PTSD Fog?


I believe I stalled out last week. No, I didn't go upstairs, turn the electric blanket to nine and assume the prenatal position, but maybe I should have.

 Oh, I got things done. Or tried to get things done. I spent the week battling with an often very dependable person to get two cords of firewood delivered. And ultimately negotiating with another person for the needed winter supply. But in truth there is still no firewood in the woodshed. I am down to a few days of this winter necessity.

 I made yogurt, walked the dog, kept petsit appointments, paid bills. And on Monday last I dropped the pickup at the mechanic's for him to fix the brakes. I kept on keeping on after that Saturday before when the brakes failed. But I was in a fog. And in truth have missed a few things. I didn't flip the desk calendar over to the next week.

 Most mechanical issues with a vehicle result in it not continuing to move further than pulling it over out of the lane of traffic if you are lucky. Brakes are different. Especially in the mountains. When I pressed on the always dependable before brake petal and it went straight to the floor my mind immediately ran through every single movie I have seen where the hero goes careening through impossible curves and ultimately launches into space over a cliff. That was followed by every piece of advice my father ever gave me on the "if this happens" list of survival skills.

 I got the pickup home safely because I was not traveling very fast and it happened within a couple miles of my house and not the road to Taos. And it was a master cylinder and not a brake line (that is what is usually cut in those movies). I could pump the brake with both feet and slow and ultimately stop the 5216 pound truck. I checked the brake fluid and it was empty. I googled and found filling it with brake fluid would help but not address the issue of why it was empty. 

 I just don't seem to be able to get past the flashes of all those scary movies. PTSD? Highly possible. Didn't get the pickup back until late Wednesday. Have made myself drive Big Blue but cancelled on my plans to take a photo trek on Sunday. I don't fully trust it. Or me.

 As my sister advised me in one of those flashes of a barely avoided wreck I think I need to pull over and yell and scream. So this is me yelling. I was scared. Very scared.

Comments

  1. The Blog of BeeNovember 25, 2017 at 7:32 PM

    What a terrifying experience. The shock always sets in after the event. You like me, deal with what's happening at the time, methodically, rationally and with a no nonsense attitude. Going into thought mode afterwards, throws up all sorts of insecurities, panic attacks and even physically throwing up. Glad you kept your wits about you - putting basic training (from parents or wherever) has its advantages. Being scared, very scared is okay. Adrenalin working. Your quick thinking saved you. Now it's time to put it behind you. Too much on your mind so some things, no matter how important, just get overlooked!

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