Tackabery Chronicle

I’ve been avoiding my blog.

Avoidance is a common coping mechanism for people with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); you want to stay away from the things you know will upset you. But like just about everything else I can think of, avoidance has a dark side. Avoidance can be the crutch that keeps you away from people, just as it has kept me away from this blog.

After my post-surgical recovery ended and I went back to work, I struggled with depression. Our cat Ripley was ill and we didn’t know what was wrong; she rapidly lost weight and I avoided thinking about her impending death. She had lived almost sixteen years, a long, happy, life, but I couldn’t face that goodbye. Eventually we had to let her go. I was also struggling with a stack of letters from my father that I have avoided dealing with since he died that have been sitting in a brown paper bag in a closet. I had told myself I would deal with them during my time off, but I managed not to touch the bag the entire time I was home. Every weekend I would think about that bag, which represented the book I have to write about my father and myself. I can’t explain why I have to write it, I just do. Not for fame, money, or relief; I just have to do it. And I’ve avoided doing it for almost eight years.

Then bopping around on Facebook one day, I found the Aunt who had helped me get in touch with my father. Memories came back, but not in a flood. I didn’t fall down on the floor gasping for breath. I just knew it was time to stop … avoiding. So I contacted my Aunt. I don’t know what she is going to think about the book when it is done. I don’t think my book is going to help anyone. But it will be the truth, and the truth doesn’t have to make anyone happy.

So I’m writing it, but it takes me away from the blog. And it’s going slow, because avoidance is not something you just stop doing overnight. I think I should call this book The Procrastinator’s Tale, at the pace it’s going. But it’s going.

Yet, I’m going to try to come back here and write a bit more. I don’t know what I’m going to write about; I suppose I’ll keep writing about Complex PTSD and the struggle that goes on, and on, and on.