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It's absolutely this, I'm out here failing to explain why I keep track of the exits, why I can't been seen in my own house, why the way some people /walk/ sets off fight or flight. Why turning out the pockets on every outfit I own reveals that I am a living go bag waiting for it all to happen again

having cptsd is so fucking stupid you can't talk about it with anyone cause people want to know how they can avoid triggering you Bitch if I told you every little asinine thing that triggers me your head would explode.

cptsd is absurd, sticky little fears living in every possible crevice inside my skull, 30 years of danger and now I'm polite and well mannered normal member of domestic society and people get real confused when a loud noise or sudden shouting turns me Fuckin' Evil.

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