I didn’t want to admit that I had PTSD. It was in a long list of things that I denied to myself. Much like the abuse I endured, I pushed the thoughts away. Acknowledging that I have PTSD would have meant acknowledging childhood trauma. Now, I no longer deny myself my truth.
The interesting thing about childhood trauma and memories is that those memories will come back during a moment that you think has nothing to do with a traumatic experience. I had one of those recently. I have had more and more of those lately.
As I walked, I thought about what had just happened. What the heck was that? And what caused it? Recalling, it was the scent of lilac that had jarringly transported me back in time. Even though I walked on from the initial spot that had caused my memory to jump to the past, I could still smell lilac, ever so slightly.