You live in a black and white world except for four colors: red, green, yellow, and blue. As you look around in your periphery you see patches of green, yellow, and blue if you don’t have trauma. If you do have trauma, you may sometimes see a spot of red that engulfs your vision. When that happens, you collapse backwards.
Every day of your life you wake up a new person. For every past day of your life you have been a different person tainted with the different colors of that day. Each time you wake, you are a grey, blank slate ready for the day. Your past selves wake too and follow you in a line in chronological order.
Let’s say you and your past selves get on a yellow bus with mostly blue passengers, but you pass a red building. Suddenly, you collapse backward to the person who saw red in that building on one particular day. Your present day self is gone, and you begin to shake.
This can happen for other memories too – perhaps autumn leaves make you see green, and you acquire green for that day and all your past selves with green autumn leaves collapse backwards and you collectively enjoy the leaves together.
See, I always thought people were always more than just who they are when you meet them or greet them for the day. They are moments upon moments of themselves. This is how I’ve tried explaining PTSD to my husband. I think it’s working.
Do you have any PTSD metaphors?