I would start this at the beginning of my day , but my days have no beginning. I’ll start at my shower.
Get in the shower. Become flooded with flashbacks. Succumb to flashbacks. Inevitably hear, “WIIIPE! Wipe me! Mommy, WIIIPE me!” Half dry off to wipe a hiney. Finish shower. Do about 15-20 minutes of learning time with child. Clean a room. Fall asleep in the hallway, half listening for the baby to wake up, half trying to play trains and cars. Succumb to flashbacks in my dreams. Wake up to a crying baby and a child tripping over me. Ask baby where this lengthy nap was during the night! Nurse baby. Feed child lunch. Nurse baby. Put baby down for lengthy nap (again, where was this last night?). Play with child. Get ready for work. Nurse baby. Put on professional and outgoing mask. At work, feel the confidence I ought to feel everywhere. Teach people coping skills that I refuse to implement in my own life. Go home. Succumb to flashbacks. Nurse baby. Make feeble dinner for the family. Nurse baby. Put baby down for nap. Attempt to converse with husband. Get child a bath or shower, and start stories. Nurse baby. Finish stories. Put baby to bed. Attempt to converse with husband. Go to bed. Succumb to flashbacks. Nurse baby. Baby gulps three times, unlatches, and passes out. Spray baby (my body doesn’t respond to only three gulps very well). Go to bed. Nurse baby. Go to bed. Succumb to flashbacks. Hear *thunk. thump thump thump thump*. Roll out of bed in time for a child to dive onto my pillow, legs flailing on husband’s face. Watch husband sleep through it. Give husband a dirty look for sleeping through it. Take child back to his own bed/go to the twin bed in the nursery. Nurse baby. Wonder why she’s not sleeping. Nurse baby. Watch baby smile and then poop. She’s awake now (it’s 3am)! Watch baby as she works on her rolling over skills (glad one of us is rested enough to work on milestones). Nurse baby. Co-sleep from exhaustion. Wake up to see if I rolled on baby. Nurse baby. Finally coherent enough to think to de-booger her nose. She can finally breathe but is fully awake now (it’s 6am)! Watch baby work on her rolling over skills. Baby starts to yawn at 7am. Child wakes up. Wake husband up. Family breakfast. Put baby down for nap. Take a shower.
Life and PTSD 
wow. I hear you on this. So exhausting. My kids are 3 and 6 now and finally sleep through the night, but I remember those days clearly. Flashbacks make going through the motions and caring for the little ones so much more challenging. Some days I wonder if I’ll survive it. I also can relate to work being the one place you have confidence. You amazing strength to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. take care, my dear.
Thanks 🙂 I wish my 3 year old would sleep through the night! You WILL survive it because I see a great strength in you! It is clear how much you love those kiddos and they see it too.
I really like how you described going out into the real world – “Put on professional and outgoing mask.” To a certain extent, most, if not all, people do the same thing. Keep inner self hidden, from the judgment and criticism from outside. Put on brave mask and pretend everything is OK.
I hate it but you’re right. I hate that we can’t be more honest with people.