Blog, Stranger than Fiction.

 

A lake view from a Parisian Bathroom.

   Life is stranger than fiction now, or maybe it always has been. Doing it sober and waking up to the cold harsh reality of CPTSD is an ever stranger show. You don't need drugs where we're going, it would only make things dark and messy. A bit like the world we live in, but I know there is light out there too, big flood lit Colosseum's where the good fight is being fought. It's too much and never enough, the death scrolls, so I'll attempt and carry on the alternative journalism torch as far as it will go. This has always been the way.  

    As a child you look up to pretty much everything. Buildings, trees, people and technology. It's always a new age for each generation, but never before has it had such a shiny faceless one. It's almost like the things that make up a human are being lost; smiles, tears, dreams? I wish I had kept more books (paper), instead of striving for more shiny things. Breath ----- Meditation has become my ally in sobriety, when things get weird, or not weird enough - meditate. Expression of healthy anger has also been a tool. Fear of standing out as being uncool, is heightened but also dissolved, by spontaneous screams at the beach to a roaring sea. What the fuck is that about anyway? I seem to have been given a code (inner critic) that seems to think it knows what I need to score high in life, haha. Like being chained to a fool that's trying to destroy me and you. I'm willing to give it all back (slowly) to reclaim the wonder. To look up again with fresh young eyes.     

     I was diagnosed with CPTSD last year after a long battle with mental health and addiction. I say battle because of the mad and often unexplainable suffering I seem to be doing to myself. It got bad; delirium filled nights on an old sinking boat in shark infested waters,   listening to the water come in at night in tropical storms. But let's not get bogged down in the scary details, it's just to acknowledge I've never known true loneliness until then (or maybe when I discovered Instagram in my 30s). I also write to acknowledge where I have to claw my way back from.

       

             The sea has been a recurring theme for me. I feel like each time I go to a beach, where ever it might be, it brings a familiar sense to me. Surfing has been a therapeutic tool too and each time I go it's like a different personality greets me. Sometimes a moody violent brother, sometimes a pretty queen. The rapid changing moods of the sea reminds me that there is nothing wrong with the same in me.  

  

For more information about CPTSD visit:https://www.pete-walker.com/