fighting analogies

I am a Warrior Woman. I fight for a cure. I'm doing battle against breast cancer.

All words of war.

It struck me just now that I am not a two year and four month survivor; it's that I have been FIGHTING the war for two years and four months.

2y4m of never knowing when I'd get bombed again.

2y4m of being humiliated (let me just look at your breast; wear this horrible gown; etc.), battered, bruised, poked. I've filled enough blood vials to fill gallon jugs, I'm sure.

2y4m without much of a break. Of constant assaults. Of having to be sharp. Of being ever vigilant. Of holding my gun, my back against a tree, trying to discern shapes in the darkness.

And now, it is announced, I am being sent away from the battlefield. I have been released.

And as I reenter civilian life, I have no idea how to manage myself. No idea how to strip from my mind what I know. No idea how to be polite and civil about everyday things.

Sounds pretty extreme, doesn't it? But it's how I'm feeling.

The PTSD thing makes too much sense to me. I'm not self diagnosing, but I am looking at the idea.

I need to learn how to be less vigilant; to think about it less.

Off to take my first Lexapro. I'll call the new shrink in the morning.