Sometimes, even twenty years on, I feel like crying when I think of the father of my eldest Grandson, lying dead in his bed.
Maybe I have PTSD – very dis-ease must have a name tagged to it, validifying it, making it a bona fide mental disease, which – since they came into fashion – deletes the shame.
I have a list of such fun conditions, but they didn’t think to offer me PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).
Maybe I’ll apply to my psychiatrist to have those initials added. The great thing about having all those letters assigned to your case, is that you don’t have to pay to put them after your name.
You can’t say I’m a pathetic worry-guts – I have GAD (Generalised Anxiety Disorder).
You can’t say I’m crazy – I have ISIP (Intermittent Stress-Induced Psychosis).
You can’t say I’m cold towards my son – I have BO (Bullying Overload). OK, so I made that one up…
This post gives the impression that I’m feeling low – I’m not. I’m having a great day, while I wait for the phone to ring, and this time, it won’t be bad news.
Time to sign off…
Jane Basil G.A.D. I.S.I.P. B.O.
PS I left out the RDD (Recurrent Depressive Disorder), as there’s nothing humorous about those initials. I wish it was ODD (Ordinary Depressive Disorder), so I could have put “Gad, I sip odd BO” after my name, but it’s not a recognised condition…
©Jane Paterson Basil