By: David Gerbstadt
Blog entry number: 1
When I tell my best friend the state of affairs he tells me you have gotten this far for over 1,800 days and everyday you have enough to get through the day. Enough food, shelter, money, and love.
My journey continues.
I am told everyday by countless people all over the world I inspire and bring happiness and joy to peoples lives.
Dec. 28, 2007 at about noon is etched into my brain forever. On this day I died in route to the hospital after being run over by a tractor trailer truck while on my bicycle. Since I am writing this blog it is a story of love, coping, and never giving up.
I give you all the gory details. I left those for my book I wrote.
So, now that that qualifies me to say yes I have PTSD. How do I cope? How do I go living after dying many times? Honestly, sometimes it is much more than I can bare to go on. I give myself a brake when this happens. Tell myself I got this far. What can they do to me, kill me? I have been there and done that.
To let you into my world, best I will tell you about one day.
Sunday, March 17, 2013: I go to bed at 8 p.m. wiped out I lie down on a thick towel and go to sleep.
10 p.m.: I wake up and dry off the night sweat with the towel and go back to sleep.
Midnight: I don’t know if I am awake or sleeping. It’s strange to express this state.
1:30 a.m.: Wake up again dry off with a towel that is cold, clammy. I get another towel. I am wide awake and yes at 1:30 a.m. I start my day. I grab the pens and paper next to my bed and begin to draw.
Drawing on paper fights off the black dog of depression. I continue to draw. Headphones plugged into my tiny flip phone switched to the radio. The DJ is a familiar guy who plays rock and roll for all the ‘blood suckers’ who are up listening. I am so wide awake I continue to draw. After a few minutes I am not nearly depressed as I was after waking up. Drinking from a juice box that I keep next to the drawing materials helps as well.
At 2:30 a.m. my dog lying next to me groans and sits up in bed with me. Her name is Noel. She is a rescue pit mix. She has her own story of being hit by a car and left for dead. A man found her and took her to the animal hospital.
After staring at me I know yes she has to pee. Back inside we curl up and go to sleep again. Only to wake at 3:30 a.m. and repeat the towel dance. I get up and go down stairs and pop in a funny movie on VHS tape. Curl up on the couch and continue to draw. Noel jumps up on the couch wiggles her way to me. Lifting the blankets she burrows under flopping down and goes to sleep.
I say to my self it is still now. I am still here. It is always now. It’s still now.
4:30 a.m.: Noel wakes up and gets busy. I am hungry, Dave! Fed me! Now!
5 a.m.: I am back from my walk with Noel.
PTSD- tried hard to kick me. I kick back! Routine, drawing, dog, funny movies, and writing this blog helped as well. Art is a way out.
For more reading about David Gerbstadt:
Huffington Post: Love Triangle: A Man, His Dog, and His Art