If Mother Nature had PTSD

Having a brain that is forever scarred by experiences is like dead wood carved into by the world around it with no roots to nourish it as it regenerates it’s bark.

A mind covered in little ditches that pick up every drop of water, every reminder, every little vapor in the air around it all of the time becomes a bountiful tributary because water always finds it’s way to places it’s already been. Once a place floods it floods every time there’s a hard rain, but what if the rivers were physically sucking the water from the air and coursing it downstream constantly? Flash floods would be happening whether it actually rains or not. That’s how this works. It’s not driven by thirst or draught or gravity. It’s not driven by anything other than the inability to stop soaking up the world around it so it never misses a drop, just in case it’s THE drop. We can not protect ourselves if we aren’t always in battle mode. But hoarding stimuli, like never letting a drop of water soak into the earth, causes flash floods and suddenly we know nothing of dry land and can only see and feel the water in which we are now drowning all over again.

Even in the places where the Earth has changed due to natural disaster, the waters still recede and the bark still grows back.

We don’t know how to navigate PTSD because it is so insanely unnatural, not because we are weak.