I haven’t been posting much lately. I’m ok, but I still have problems.

One day over a week ago, I thought my mind felt like a bombed house in the middle of a bombed city. It was hard to think clearly. It was hard to figure out what I need to do each day to put my life back together. As I get a few things accomplished, I feel a little better, but my mind is still not “normal”. I thought a bombed out house or building was a good analogy for what trauma does to a person. The outside might look almost like it was before, but the inside features may not work like they used to do.

When a building is this badly damaged, it will usually be torn down. We can’t do this with people though. We have to rebuild ourselves, perhaps with some help from others, brick by brick, beam by beam, pane by pane. It’s sometimes hard to find the old pieces in the rubble, but little by little we can put the pieces back so a usable house is reconstructed. It won’t be the same as it was before, but nothing in life is perfect anyway, so that’s ok.

I’m ok today. I’ve been taking care of my sometimes psychotic ex-roommate’s 2 dogs while he was looking for a room to rent that would allow him to have dogs. He found a place that didn’t at first, but the manager now says he can have his dogs. I know he needs the bigger dog and the bigger dog needs him, but I wonder if the small one will be ok. I told the other ex-roommate not to worry about his dogs, but I can’t help doing so myself now.

I can’t be responsible for 3 dogs though. It’s enough being responsible for my own old dog. She was happy to have her old friends with us this last week, but I’ll probably be glad not to have to share my life with 2 extra dogs too.