June 7, 2020

Mental Health & COVID-19: An NHS Doctor’s Experience of PTSD.

I’m wandering in the landscape of my mind,


All the landmarks now unrecognisable
Unable to grasp my location
In this ever-changing terrain.

All the thoughts I had once known

No place to seek old comforts
No place seemed like mine
Like me.

I’m searching for a signpost
A pointer
But I’ve lost the ability to read.

Where am I?

Who am I?

I realise I’m searching for familiarity
I’m searching for my soul.

I’m sludging through sinking bogs
Dragged down and depressed
Carrying sacks upon sacks
Of God knows what
Weighing me down even further
As I trudge

I’m running through shadowy forests
Haunted by my nightmares
Chasing me
As I fumble in the dark
Terrified and alone.

I find myself screaming from the hilltops
Screaming from the pit of my lungs
Screaming from rage.

I’d roar if I could.
I’d roar like a wild caged lion.
I’d howl like a cornered she-wolf.

And I would cry to the moon
Until every planet heard my call
Every planet could feel my pain
And every star would shine their light
To guide me out of this nightmare.

But if only it was a terrible dream
From which I could wake
From which I could flee.

But no.

Here I am navigating a landscape
Only I can apparently fathom.

I’m stuck in the inner workings of my mind
Navigating my PTSD
Searching for my soul.

Little do you see when you look at me
Little do you notice what hides behind my eyes
The storms in my chest
The tides of my heart ripping out my throat.

Who bears this bad dream?

Who dares venture?

I do,
But only because I must.


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