Putting the Safety On

Good Morning, Lovelies! Winter has finally come, well into the calendar season, and disrespectfully. There is a major storm brewing in the region for the entire weekend, to the point where I've cancelled everything for today, planning to hermit until any percieved danger is past:) This is good news for readers! And writers too; we can just stay in, silence phones and other technology, and focus on words on a page. Digesting or producing said words, it's much nicer than struggling through wind and weather. I didn't even read the windchill temperatures in online forecasts; I want to avoid despair. FOCUSING: I found the following while scrolling and it spoke to me. I won't go into exactly which things are triggered from my past or why, but there WAS an incident just this weekend that made this meme resonate like a Cathedral bell. Like a cave echo. Like a tuning fork. And it really made me think. If such can be true for me, it must also be extremely true for others. Which is why it's such a challenge to make real connections in this world, particularly as an adult. We all have so much we buried in our hearts, so many memories and so much SAD in our bones--anyone getting too close is more than likely to say or do something that will unearth a skeleton or two. Then the other person's trauma breaks their heart and a rift is unintentionally created, which then must be addressed and resolved IF it can be. In a romantic or even platonic relationship, both parties must be willing to work out the wrinkle, or else someone will likely just ghost the other. Disappear. Flake. Vanish to protect their peace. In a professional situation, if something triggers an employee, unless he/she is extraordinarily dedicated to her position or desperately needs to keep the job, it's always possible they'll quit. Enter another ghost, invited by the ghosts that were invited through the trigger:( I could absolutely see this being a problem for me in the workforce. I would indeed be very difficult to keep on staff with all my hang-ups. And it wouldn't be anybody's fault. Just the things I carry. Speaking of, let me now recommend a book I read as a teenager. It addresses the issue of PTSD soldiers in Vietnam carried after their service. Until recently I thought their kind of PTSD, created by one singular traumatic event, was the ONLY kind of trauma there was, and counted myself freakish for claiming there were a million things constantly surfacing in my memory that caused a crippling pain. That book is "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien, available here: https://www.amazon.com/Things-They-Carried-Tim-OBrien/dp/0618706410/ref=sr_1_1?crid=11NLW5JTBXAQC&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.SlsXxrawAbEGNpHnbiBYdG7JLDyeXu3ajpxil-DNnwEnBhLyXBBOpGbOrhl2Z8S1yUInPP0iLe9uF-i3SEySVg.Y67N-4avHggpUyfqoBj0ZgWwg9U8GLxgOtbk_L8sk20&dib_tag=se&keywords=the+things+they+carried+by+tim+o%27brien+paperback&qid=1704986867&sprefix=The+Things+They+Carried%2Caps%2C140&sr=8-1 I think in this day and age where women are finally being allowed to servve and largely considered equals among the men, this is a very nice tie-in to a meme about trauma. Love you all!