Motion.

Yesterday, my new T said trauma is "a disorder of time." Which it is. He meant that the threat response switch is stuck in the on position after the threat is removed, so it always seems that we are living in a time of threat.


I've got soldiers on my payroll
Standing guard on my front drive
Snipers on the roof poised at those
Who don't want me alive
Cause they audited my taxes
My family under threat
Cause I've got a message and a megaphone
And I'll scream it to the death

Gasoline, Sheryl Crow

Motion. It is also a disorder of motion, at least in my mind. Because it results in a state of perpetual motion. In trying to explain that I couldn't stop moving, it was interpreted as evidence of mania. But mania is based in positive emotion, the high, the "feeling great" of hypomania transitions to the brain running so fast it overloads and the product comes out jumbled, disjointed. My motion was never based on anything but fear. I moved because I was terrified not to. I moved because a moving target is harder to catch. I still move out of fear.

Teacake, I utterly understand what you meant when you said you have no middle speed. Neither do I. I have go and stop. Stop only happens now when I hit the wall. Last night was such a night. No bike rides at 3am, no in bed at 12 and up at 2:30 with 2 1/2 hours watching Netflix in between. Just collapse into sleep. All night. I felt more rested this morning than in a long time. It isn't a new pattern or choice, I just hit the wall. In cycling, we say "I bonked" - out of energy, a hypoglycemic crisis on the muscular level. I ran out of energy. I bonked, and no amount of caffeine could stop it. So I slept. Finally.

Back to motion today. Work all day like a dog, work out tonight like a demon. I have no choice, I am running for my life, away from some very determined, very frightening enemies, those who don't want me alive, or want me shamed, broken, degraded, and crazy in a psych ward. Too bad they are only in my mind, a perceived threat that never should have been.