Forced words

*For crying out loud Grainne, this is a blog, not a massive online journal of draft posts that never see the little publish button clicked.*

I have written (counting…) 7 posts in the last three days and they all sit in draft.  I think I have a problem feeling entitled to express my feelings on some things so, although they are impacting me greatly and I’m desperate to get them on the screen and out of my head, I can’t bring myself to make them real.  How stupid.  It’s a blog and it’s not like there are thousands of folks hanging on my every word.  Plus, the entire point of this thing I’ve been writing for years now was exposure.  Sharing.  Connection (sort of, somewhat, maybe).  Bah.  I should just copy and past it all into one long ramble and be done with it (but I won’t, for whatever reason).  *sigh* Exasperated with myself.  

So I’m all trigger-y and weird these days, as well indicated by my starting today’s post by talking to myself.  I can smell things all over the place and it’s driving me a bit nuts.  Most of you know I have heightened sensory issues that are said to come from the ptsd and the carefully cultivated need to be absolutely aware of any danger that might even be thinking of sneaking up on me at all moments of the day and night.  In my sleep I am spring loaded to react to the slightest touch…lol…Dayne has learned this lesson well in the past with a few unintentional bruises delivered by elbows, feet, hands and body as I flailed dramatically and viciously out of what looked like a peaceful sleep when he tried to cuddle with me in the night.  In the day, this hyper-awareness manifests as an assault of most of my senses.  I feel physical pain when bright lights glare down on me, can hear things all over the building in a constant chatter….it’s distracting as all get out.  I not only hear snippets of conversation through the walls but can also isolate all the electrical noises, phones ringing, office equipment, nurse calls….it’s nearly deafening when I focus on it.  At home I hear people driving by and other people’s televisions constantly and I live on 34 acres of trees in the midst of five other properties with a single house on each.  The smells though, they are what bother me the most.  I shower daily because I don’t even like smelling my own smells when I do not….I have raised Colt to do so as well and, luckily, Dayne is a bit of a personal hygiene freak.  (Can I just say that I am so damn thankful that he is a hairless guy?  He has thick, gorgeous hair on his head and can grow a beard in three days flat but from the neck down he’s only got a few sparse, soft hairs in all the right, manly places.  Chest – buttery smooth; Back – not even the hint of a hair; Butt – same again.  Also, it might be prudent to mention that my ex-husband was part bear and had thick, curly, black hair from head to toe.  I’m a woman of contrasts, it seems).   

*I just laughed out loud with an unattractive snort at the end when a patient had the following conversation with another, just outside my office door:  “So, where do I go?”  “Oh, go on down to the gym, through those doors and to your left.”  “I don’t know what you mean.  Do I go to where it says GYM on the sign?”  “Yep!  You’ve got it!”  “Wait – what if that sign isn’t on my left?”* 

Anyway.  Back to the nose issue.  I can smell food on people all the time, and I don’t mean just after someone’s had a caesar salad for lunch, I mean the next day after at least two tooth brushings and a probable shower.  Not just strong smells like garlic or onion either, but softer, sweeter smells as well.  I can tell from fifty paces if you’ve forgotten to brush your teeth that day.  I can smell the plaque/bacteria building up on teeth (I know this because I can smell my own as well).  I can smell a persons breath on instruments like telephones for up to two days after they’ve used it.  I can’t tell you how much I love today’s society where we each have our own little phone that we keep in our pocket and no one EVER touches it unless we say it’s okay.  I haven’t even picked up my house phone in years.  I’m not even sure we still have it….that line hasn’t rung in at least two years now.  So that covers breath.  lol….then there are the rest of the normal smells I hate like body odor (I love Dayne’s though – weird how chemicals in your brain can influence your tastes like that).  I can smell when a gal is on her period and can usually smell bacterial infections brewing, even before symptoms start to show.  It’s a horror show, that one, when you stop to think that I work in an acute care hospital.  Every floor smells totally different to me and all of the smells are nauseating.  Emergency smells like blood, if you ever wondered.  The antiseptic and antiviral cleaners overpower most of it, but underneath the layers of chemical-clean, there is blood….and fear.  Adrenaline?  Not sure what that smell actually is, now that I think of it, but ‘fear’ captures it well.   

There.  Rather than write about what I feel inside, I’ll write about what I feel outside.  Fuck…how did I manage that exactly???   

It’s times like this that I start to wonder who is really in control here, me or my brain. 

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About Grainne

My name is Grainne. This blog has been with me for years now and has served as a journal, a confessional, an outlet and a place for me to create and express my love of life. Thank you for stopping by and for becoming a part of this life long journey of mine. I appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to do so. :)

7 responses to “Forced words”

  1. Birdie says :

    That is just awful. How do you manage all of that? I think I would have a constant headache or be throwing up.

    • Grainne says :

      I do have a constant headache but that’s supposedly because of my spine (arthritis). I also throw up an awful lot. Lol. Yay human!

      I’m in the peri menopause pit with you right now and my doc thinks this stuff will settle down as my hormones do. I’m not banking on it though…I’ve been like this forever. She doesn’t remember that though.

  2. Ain't No Shrinking Violet says :

    Grainne, have you ever considered having an assessment for ASD on yourself? Because this seems exactly like what autistic adults describe as “sensory processing disorder.” This does not at all sound like the kind of sensory problems related to PTSD (I was a psychiatric nurse for a long time). You might be on the *very* high functioning end of the spectrum.

    • Grainne says :

      I have been assessed twice since Colt was born, as I was desperate to find *something* that caused his struggles with the disorder. Each time I raise the issue to a psychiatrist they have steered me directly from ASD and to PTSD. They seem to think I have it backwards…that I’m seeing my own anxiety reflected in Colt and that something general in nature like “anxiety” can be common across all sorts of conditions.

      That said, yes, I do think it’s possible. That it only overwhelms me when I’m stressed only backs up that possibility.

      I have found that since a doctor diagnosed me, every single mental health and medical professional I see wants to keep me securely in that category. I try not to discount anything.

      • Ain't No Shrinking Violet says :

        Interesting. Anxiety can cause a lot of weird symptoms. I’m glad you’ve at least looked into it.

      • Grainne says :

        Thanks. I will continue to do so too. So much of medicine is guess work when there isn’t an obvious answer isn’t it?

      • Ain't No Shrinking Violet says :

        People don’t realize exactly how much guess work it is. I’m glad you do!

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