My acquaintance Kelli (a former coworker from circa 1988) suggested, based on her own experience, that there is possibly a component of the cancer treatment process that leads to PTSD. I've been mulling it over, and it makes sense. That explains the slightly affect-less, semi-shell-shocked feeling I've been having so much of, lately.
I hesitate to use the term, though – both because it seems broadly over-used as part of our culture, and also because I'm not sure how I feel about it as a "diagnosis" at all. I'm not much of one for the DSM, when you get down to it. It's a lot of labels.
Partly, though, my feeling is it's just being back in the grind of work. I had been intending to plunge back into a kind of self-curative workaholism after the worst was over, and so… that's where I'm going. It's taxing, though – physically because I'm not in the best shape, and emotionally, because, well… work.
What I'm listening to right now.
Peter Murphy, "Cuts You Up."
[daily log: walking, 6 km]