I’m not talking about the op rehab nor Covid
I quick search of my blog I found I’ve only mentioned the word “Iraq” three times so it’s clear I’ve never really mentioned it and maybe that’s fine - this blog originated as a means to diarise my journey in triathlon after all…. But you know I may not have even started doing anything to do with triathlon as it was being holed up in a German Garrison on the way back from Iraq that I discovered this sport and decided I’d give it a bash and commenced my original 4 year journey towards my first IM
And now here I am some 16 years after my call up, and 15 years since I got back talking about day 1
Yes day fucking 1 .. AGAIN
When I first got home from the conflict I’d say every day for the first 3-4 months was a day 1.. the first day of counting when I didn’t feel under threat, ready to run, planning escape routes, ready… just ready to act. Every day, every single day for the first few months my brain couldn’t compute that I was safe. I was certainly primed for fight or flight. Over time the days did start joining together and they eventually became months.. often with a reset to day 1 after bonfire night, fireworks became my nemesis
As years have gone I’ve got fine with them. As long as I’m inside. Or if outside, as long as I expect them and I’m in the dark. I have no issues.
My last day 1 was probably 2.5 years ago when I was on a bus coming home from work (trains had problems so my last let home was a hour on the bus!), and someone threw some sort of banger firework at the bus. I was in the light, I was not expecting it (even though it was firework season). It was a mere moment but I got home and simply cried. It really shook me up - I don’t know how I stayed on the bus and can only remember the light of the bus when the bang when and the darkness of the street when i got off near home and ran like my life depended on it.. the bit in between must have taken at least 20mins but I’ve literally no idea.
The thing is I can’t explain to you anything really. It makes no sense … like none at all. Every single bit of me goes into hyperdrive and I want to act but my conscious brain knows I’m safe, knows this isn’t a problem (I mean it certainly shouldn’t be), but every single instinct in my body gets wired and wants to act, i guess adrenaline is involved somewhere.. I can’t describe the inner conflict - the will it takes just to sit still and convince yourself it’s ok - whilst literally you want to run for cover.
I don’t know where the tears come from after these things … I’m not sad, at least I don’t think I am!! I am not frightened, I know I have no need to be… . I shouldn’t feel ashamed but part of me does.. it kind of feels how I’d feel i think if i suddenly pissed my pants without having control (and I can assure you i don’t do that!! LOL)….
Fortunately, and I am fortunate… I have such a brilliant partner in life. She is just amazing. I would feel so lonely if I weren’t able to talk to her - she knows this reaction is so irrational, which confuses my brain so much given I seek logic in everything …and this whole shitshow is so illogical it infuriates me…. Importantly she doesn’t try and rationalise (even when I do), she just listens and helps as she is a presence of calmness.
For the first time today I actually went on line to the combatstress website. It turns out (like no shit Sherlock) that it has some really useful self help resources around anxiety and ptsd. By coincidence I have a lot of their suggestions in my armaments so I’m doing ok today (I’ve meditated, done some light exercise and here’s some reflective thinking)…. Honestly there self help pages are spot on and having a framework to process what happened has really helped. I often feel like I shouldn’t go on these resources, because I wasn’t really in intense danger, i don’t think it should apply, my conflict wasn’t so bad. .. but at the end of the day I went from a civvy pencil pusher one moment to donning body armour and helmet in a conflict zone the next. We all came under indirect fire (hence fireworks are shitty), no one I knew personally died, there was one close call with one of the guys I hung out with but that was it. Road moves and helicopter rides were tense. Sometimes I feel like a fraud that I react in the way I do - I don’t know how folks who had far far more difficult tours then I did every get over it.
So last night I was in the light, surrounded by a derelict Abby on a warm and steamy night… first it was some boy racers with backfiring exhausts, i was vaguely ok kind of in control but then the fireworks started. It was exhausting for what felt like an age but was probably a couple of mins where i held on to reality.
I’m not writing this blog for any other reason to say then to just get it out.. and say hey ho.. here we are back on day 1… I see you .. I know you and whilst I feel you Mr Flight or Fight, you are not required. Please do one.
