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I wish I had a way to measure my hormone levels. I don’t feel myself. I’ve sobbed twice today. My mind is in a fog. My sight narrows in on what’s in front of me, and everything else is a blur. I didn’t eat much. But I did work on my new scooter. It’s the only thing that I’m motivated with right now, except going home to Brooklyn. I haven’t worked on my book in almost two weeks. I probably should.

I feel like my support network has thinned or has a gaping hole. The truth is, there are many people I can call for support, but I don’t know what to say or how to say it. I can’t verbalize what I’m feeling except down. The thought of people, like bad drivers, gets my arrogance to rise. Otherwise, my feelings change from moment to moment.

When my heart skips, it’s often a sign that my anxiety level is high, and presumably high catecholamines. But I want to know for real. Are my catecholamine levels high? And isn’t there a way medicinally to get them to go down?

In a heartbeat, I cave in and sob. And in the next moment, I’m vigilant and want to make something change.

My dog must be used to this, since she naps on a chair. At first she came to me and licked me. But then she went away and gave herself a rest.

I want a rest. My PTSD is like a cancer that goes into remission but comes back in full force.

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