When you can’t do anything else, work. Having PTSD is no fun. Being triggered into a full blown event? Not fun. The person who triggered you making sure they keep the trigger down? I don’t have words. Shaking too much to control a paint brush for two days now. Can’t sleep. Fighting off panic attacks. Fuck, I’d love a soundproof dark corner, somewhere. Anywhere. Someplace I felt safe. Not liking life much right now. So, work.