My PTSD – A Poem

Like so many others who live with PTSD or other chronic illness, people often ask me, “What does it feel like?”


It doesn’t matter if it’s cold, hot, sunny, snowing  or raining

There is no telling when it’s going to strike.

Are they alive or dead?

Is that pain real or echoes from pain long ago that

Resurface with a memory?

It’s like being held hostage by your mind

Thinking that today would be the day I am free.

I look like everyone else

I know the difference between right and wrong.

Yet in my head, I sometimes can’t remember

The last ten minutes of my life, or what day, year or time it is.

Are those smells real or is that a smell from a place and time

when I was being held against my will.

Am I really hearing the sounds of helicopters, planes, cicadas or birds

Or it that the sound coming from a place that no longer exists and

Should never be talked about?

I want so much to be like everyone else.

So I will keep pulling myself up the rope,

Out of the clutches of PTSD and all the skeleton hands of the past that

Keep trying to pull me down.

I am like everyone else only my job is to live so I can live.

For now, that’s all I can ask of myself if I am going to have a future.


©Alexis Rose, photo: pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    


46 thoughts on “My PTSD – A Poem

  1. Brave you. I have BPD, oh, science and its acronyms but don’t you worry life can and will surprise us with joys manifold. I never could find words to express what I went through in my episodes of BPD but you clearly found the right words. You’ve got at least talent going for you.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thanks Ali. I was reminded again today that sharing our stories helps us heal. Its a weird vulnerability to share, but if its helpful or relatable in any way then I’ll keep sharing. I always appreciate your support Ali 💐💕

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I appreciate your courage in sharing this slice of your life. It most certainly sounds very difficult. I can’t imagine. I believe that we all have something. Something that is very hard. I also believe that by sharing we can learn to see beyond who we think people are just by the way they look on the outside. Keep going, one step at a time.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I just have to laugh……………if you go read my most recent post, you won’t be thinking that about my husband….lol lol lol He can be very wonderful when he wants to be, then the rest of the time, no comment…..:) Men!!! Have a good night. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Thank You so much for sharing your story. How scary and traumatic. I totally understand how this would be long lasting. Your husband sounds wonderfully supportive. Im so glad you have him to get up and check when you need him to. Have a good evening. Alexis

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Thank you for sharing your heartfelt poem about what PTSD is like for you. I, too, have PTSD for more than one reason, but one of the things that has greatly contributed to it is that when I was around 10 years old, our house caught on fire in the middle of the night. It’s a long story as to why I blamed myself for us almost not getting out, not with the fire starting, but anyway that was one very traumatic experience in my childhood. I remember the fireman telling my mom that it was only minutes before the entire house would have been engulfed with smoke and gone up in flames. What this has done to me is, during times of great stress (that’s when it seems to happen the most) I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and swear I smell smoke. I panic. I awaken my husband, and tell him something is burning and he needs to get up and check, and he always does. But, after the first few times, he said, “honey, there’s nothing on fire. We have 8 smoke detectors in this house and they will go off if there is a fire. You know this happens all the time. I then tell him, I smell it, it’s burning, please, please, go check, and he does…….down to the garage, down to the basement, all around the main floor, in all the bedrooms, then back to bed with the same report as always………………nothing is on fire. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep……………………………………That happens often, in times of long lasting stress, it seems. Then I may go quite awhile before it happens again…………………But, it is very real. I smell smoke, just like I did on that fateful night……………I look forward to following your blog. Peace out. XX 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  7. karanblogs

    Wow those emotions..As someone suffering from PTSD, I can totally get that..thank you for this wonderful poem 🙂
    And it would be my honor if you can check out my blog too and take a look at my poems anytime. I have just started 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Private Bad Thoughts

    Thank you so much for sharing this-I try but often cannot capture it, because my PTSD doesn’t strike often, I generally forget I can get it. and then it comes back and its like I have to face the diagnosis all over again..gah. stay strong

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Yes, absolutely it is okay to share this! I would be honored. In fact, one of the main reasons I wrote my book is because I found for some reason, I could articulate my feelings and knew that it may help others articulate them too. xx

    Liked by 1 person

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