The worst part of PTSD is that the memories don't leave me alone, especially when I want them to. I was cooking this evening, and it's always triggering to me because of how many memories include me being yelled at and put down and criticized while "helping" people cook. Spilling things, making a mess, not reacting fast enough or not reading a parent's mind on what they want and where it is, would all cause a tirade of yelling. And it's all playing through my head tonight. I hate it. I want it to go away. But it doesn't, ever.

Ugh.