A Night Out With the Captain

Tonight I finally achieved a "mommy goal" of mine. I finally took my superhero loving boys to see "Captain America: Winter Soldier". I have to admit that I have been equally excited about keeping this date as my boys were. Why?

1. I get an excuse to enjoy a fun night out with the boys
2. I get to find some reason to make that fun night extra fun-- Captain America shirts and homemade hats.
3. I absolutely adore Captain America! It's a close tie between him and Superman. Why can't this man really exist?

I loved the movie. I mean it was a little crazy. The boys got a little antsy. I got some stares from fellow movie goers. And I did miss some scenes because of bathroom breaks, etc. But I really enjoyed it. My little conspiracy theory heart squealed a little at the plot line ;). And all around I loved it. I loved watching my boys get SO into it at the end. I loved watching one of them throw around lids like shields. All while wearing his totally awkward homemade hat. It was a good night.

But there was one thing I didn't expect: to have: a PTSD episode. It came out of no where. One little part of the movie. It lasted only a second. I saw it and felt the trigger. My brain tried to reason, "Come on Tricia, what you experienced wasn't on that level. You don't need to have PTSD over this." But slowly the trigger crept in. It almost felt like ice crawling up my arms and legs working it's way towards my heart. I had to get on top of it before it reached. I took deep breaths and whispered to myself, "Don't let it take over. This doesn't have to define you." It's been so long since I've had an episode. I haven't been in practice with staying on top. But I felt like I got it under control. And I felt like everything would be OK.

But the ride home proved me wrong. Hero movies usually amp up my "fight or flight" response. I walk out of the theater ready to take on the challenge. I'm ready to be a warrior. Come on, lets go kick some butt! Well this state of being, linked with a PTSD episode, left me a little fried. As I started to drive home I felt like I was fighting for my life. I was taking deep shaky breaths. I was on the verge of tears. I began to wonder if I needed to pull over and call someone. I tried to imagine stories in my head. I tried to imagine myself fighting. I tried to imagine someone who loved me enough to fight for me. But I know this isn't the answer. I need to love myself. I need to believe in myself. I then remembered what I needed to do. There is someone who loves me enough to help me fight. I prayed, held out my hand and turned it over to Christ. It was a great experience! It was a great reminder! Even when I don't want to give someone my burden, including him, I need to remember, that's how it's supposed to work. I felt so much warmth in my hand. I felt so strong and restored. I'm still a little shaken, but I'm going to be OK. This doesn't have to define me. It doesn't have to consume me.

As I watched the kids run all over the store, acting out their little superhero battles, there was a part of me that wanted to join them. I sometimes wish my demons were something I could just fight off physically. I know that's not easier, by far, but sometimes it feels that way. The emotional and mental battle is a war all it's own. And sometimes it's hard to not throw in the towel.

But I fought off my emotional demons. I managed to stay on top. And I managed to have a fun night out with my boys. The only true disappointment is that I don't have my own Captain America shirt ;). That's definitely one for the wish list.