PTSD and a night in a mental ward.. maybe it'll improve my art

I wake up feeling nervous, I just do. Can't put my finger on it... May have to do with not knowing what comes next. But isn't that true at all times? You can never know. 
Brain scan and MRI this week....
I had a blackout episode last week... Lost 6 hrs of time... I'm a very coherent, rational person so this was a cage rattler and an embarrassment to say the least. Last thing I remember? Ringing the bell at my local police station... Asking for help because although I knew I drove there, I had no recollection or memory of how this came to be. I did not call my husband, did not even think or couldnt think more to the point.. and told the officer that I was unsure of self... So I ended up in a mental facility overnight (huh!? Me??) Felt more like a jail.. But coed. Me; Grad school: 4.0, public speaker, expert in my field, successful... well that night I learned all about panhandling, how to store crack and meth internally, lots of tips for being strung out and homeless.... fascinating but not required reading....  I instinctively stood by the office window most of the night so I was seen by attendants at all times and I was given a pad to lay on in the hallway since all beds were taken.... Wow... New experience.   Wasn't scared exactly, just knew I stood out a bit much... Not to mention all your clothes are removed and you are all there naked, save for a gown... Lets just say, I saw some parts of anatomy of people I'd rather not remember. Bad enough the obese guys on the beach wearing Speedos? Take the Speedo away... That was my evening....
I cannot explain this episode completely, and its possible there's something neurological and/or psychological of course.
But I've been through so much in my life and powered through. I've been thrown out of a moving vehicle by my ex husband , rolled into a ditch. Hitchiked in a bloody painful stupor to get help and get home.  Still persevered, stayed in school, got fantastic grades... No one ever knew... 
So why now the weirdness? I keep thinking... Is it because I am now labeled as someone with unmistakable PTSD?  Does the label create the trigger that says... Ok, now you can let go of handling and sustaining... Now you can just 'lose it'.  This is not me.. I'm tough, I endure and keep moving... I have a shot at a terrific new life... Ok, I'm not used to being loved and cared for... But is this what happens? You get a shot at a great life and only THEN the symptoms and vulnerabilities start to appear? Where is my thick skin that can look fear and abuse in the face and say.. Go ahead... Just do it... You won't break me.
I started painting this really intense work Ill post it soon.. It's in progress but its a telling, haunting work... But quite colorful and I believe I am going to like it when it finishes.  
Ok, I'll just keep trucking... I'll put my weirdness to the side for now and have my day. We all do this in one way or another I suppose

A small emergency aid when someone grates on your self-esteem

Knowing you are a good person can get you through anything. I've been terrorized and brutalized more times than I can count - but for today; I was thinking of the smaller moments that catch you off guard and can wound if not careful.  I was thinking of a young pretty waitress I met yesterday. She was being reprimanded and condescended to for no reason save for the sick satisfaction it gave the current patron in question to be domineering and a bit sadistic.

The waitress stood there and took it with grace, but I could see the slight lilt in her posture, the change in her expression. 

So, I had a little talk when she came around to serve me my drink at the pool. 

Here is what we chatted about: 

Me: 7 years of cocktail waitressing - the usual need to pay for college etc...

Burned my waitressing shoes after getting my Masters; my testament to leaving that part of life behind for good.

2 months later I found myself in need of work and it was back to cocktailing at a posh hotel nightclub. Of course the patrons there;  and yes I'm talking the women... on dates with their considerably older, wealthy men, would look me up and down and sneer at me. The favorite would be the condescending way in which they would order and look at me with a smirk as though I was so beneath their stature.

Now of course having a thick skin is what gets most hospitality/service people through their days. Sometimes though a few bad days happen - or a rough home life is about all you can take and strangers battering against your your self-esteem fortress (plenty of that in future posts) well, sometimes they get through.

So here is what I've internalized and shared for over 15 years now with others I see being dealt with poorly by those they are attending to.  'Think to yourself... "I have to deal with you for maybe 20 minutes -  You, have to be 'that person' for the rest of your life". This is where the inner smile takes over and blooms into a warm generous service with a smile persona, regardless of what daggers may be thrown your way.  

Being a good person... If you know you are, you can get through anything
thought id end with a table i painted... its a big cable spool... fun to do it... love working in blue.