Present Traumatic Stress Disorder

I just thought that I was stressed before.

I vented in today's poem, and borrowed
the PTSD but no way do I compare my
level of stress to what our military faces
each and every day they are serving
our country. If you or someone you love
suffers from POST Traumatic Stress
Disorder, please point them to help:
http://www.ptsd.va.gov/

Just thought that I was tired. The doctor

holds a clipboard and a pen and asks you

where you are, pain-wise, on a scale from one 

to ten, the one being none at all, the ten reserved

for nauseating, prep-her-stat-for-surgery kind of

agony. If someone did the same for stress, I see 

that what I thought was fairly high, compared to

now, was not that high at all. Fairly low, in fact.

And I wonder , with a sinking heart, how much 

higher it will get before I look back on this

moment and think, "That was nothing! 

Why was I upset? Now this...this is really something."

And yes, I know that God is in control, so if

you're feeling perky and so very tempted to remind me, don't. But if you want to pray, feel free. 

(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014