Everyone has a happy place

There's a place I go to when the world is too much for me. When the PTSD hits me so hard I have to stop and ask myself am I crazy, am I paranoid? I grab my camera and lens load it up in my bag and head to my car. The smell of seaweed and salt overwhelms me as I arrived. The massive crowds of people sends my heart in overdrive as the anxiety tightens my chest. I know farther down there's less people. I catch my breathe and force my legs to move. The panic attack of that feels like an army of knights circling me stabbing me with swords slowly fades away. I see a group of birds and prepare to assemble my camera. What I notice I haven't seen in this place before.

I wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe a mother trying to wake her drown baby chick or maybe it was just a bird eating a free meal. Whatever it was I was drawn to it. The site of nature in what may have been a dark moment took me away. No longer was I thinking about the people walking by or the crowds of families enjoying life or the sorrow of my past. I was watching God's creation at work.

As I watched the massive ocean wash away the body and clean the sandy beach it reminded of something I once heard. "Tears release pain." Maybe I needed to release some pain to go on with my day.