Fuck, who knew????????
I see a single mum outside school today who tells me she's going to resign from her job at the NHS. I tell her I'm going to a school reunion.
"That'll be good," she says.
"Oh I dunno, the place was a prison. I'm only just admitting it to myself now that it was traumatic."
We chat, and the long and the short and the tall and the small of it, she tells me that I'm going through post traumatic stress disorder. She went through it years ago with an experience relating to her teens.
The initial experience is so big our brains can't compartmentalise it. Here is a page I just found from Mind. You might find it useful.
I'm a bit blown away to be honest (forgive the pun on this day of all days). 2002 years after the event a light shines.
My breakdowns in Japan, when the Church evicted me, when I was evicted from Papier Mache Towers (which is documented here on the blog)
It's November 11th today. 11.11.11.Rememberance Day. NotSupermum has written a beautiful post containing a beautiful poem:
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
There are a million thoughts in a moment's silence.
I'd just like to say thank you.