Living with PTSD is no walk in the park. Lately I’ve been struggling and that calls for digging deep. In the midst of my emotional self torture and feelings of doom something arose - a different perspective on an already existent piece of consciousness. A glimmer of the girl I used to be. Her desire to come forward. The sense of fear that followed. Vulnerability. Abandonment. Longing. So, I listened. I took note. I emailed my psychologist. I watched as this new imprint was laid atop an old one… like sketches of architecture layered one on the other, blueprints of a masterpiece. Read on to learn how this girl slipped away and what I’m doing to rekindle the fire.