I made one for DW and one for LJ, almost thesame name on both (LJ's is 12colors12month as it ran out of room.):

12colors12months and 12colors12month

For now, join (and pimp) both. Once there's four or so members, we'll decide if we use one, the other, or both with crossposting for people who don't use both systems and really prefer the one they do. If we decide on LJ, we can change the name to something else if people prefer, like 12colors1year

I have PTSD, Post-Traumatic Distress Disorder. Sometimes you get it from events that involve people. Sometimes people aren't involved at all.

I'm not telling you how I got it; it's not yours to know.

I was diagnosed, though, in 2007. Events later that year, and in the following, worsened it, though I don't blame anyone involved in the worsening. Some knew I had it, some didn't; I wish I had had more support, but what was, was.

In the end, you have to deal with it on your own. There is no point in being angry at people, be they those who worsened it, accidentally or unknowningly (which I think is often the case) or at people who I had hoped would give support, or at people involved in causing it, if there were any.

I realized that I need to define what I mean, as I go through this. When I talk about a hardened heart, I can mean three different things; what I meant as the most painful one is a theological term I apply to four people only.

Forgiveness is the most important one to define. As a person, I have to forgive for my health and the health of the other, whether I see the results for them or not. As a follower of Christ (and I use that, now, not Christian, as I think I have been too hurt by Christians and Christianity, seen the rules changes when convenient too many times), I have to say that forgiveness is more than a neutral feeling. I found a quote, in looking up things on forgiveness--not a religious one--and this is what I mean.

"Many people hold onto a grudge because it offers the illusion of power and a perverse feeling of security. But in fact, we are held hostage by our anger. It is never too late to forgive. But you can forgive too soon. I am especially wary of what I call saintly forgiveness. Premature forgiveness is common among people who avoid conflict. They're afraid of their own anger and the anger of others. But their forgiveness is false. Their anger goes underground. I define forgiving as letting someone back into your heart. This returns us to a loving state -- and not merely within the relationship -- we feel good about ourselves and the world. True forgiveness isn't easy, but it transforms us significantly. To forgive is to love and to feel worthy of love. In that sense, it is always worthwhile."
-Robert Karen, Phd Bottom Line Personal, November 1, 2001

I was raised Catholic, and I think in Catholic terms, and so I think of the sacrament of Reconciliation. And that is exactly what is described here, by this doctor, with nothing to do with religion at all.

I have learned to let myself be angry. And I have worked through the anger, and that is why this is such a painful process for me; each person, each event, I have to go through and relive emotionally and experience the anger I repressed, because I was afraid of it.

But I can't be afraid of it anymore, or I'll never do what I need to do.

I was reading the first volume of the Temple of the Twelve last night, Novice of Colors, and I found myself weeping without realizing it, as it touched something that I'd bandaged up but had never healed, something related to my PTSD.

And then I was sobbing. And it was okay. And I'm writing this, personal as it is, and making it public, because I know there are others like me, in one way or another, who need to know one or more parts of this.

I don't name names--which may mean some people assume I'm talking about them. I can't help that, though I can say that those who do are often wrong. But privacy is my gift to everyone who needs it.

I just want to say this: I love you. I forgive you. And I welcome you. I am careful, yes, and some of you I don't have the strength to seek out. But I'd welcome you--sometimes with caution--if you approached me.

I'm imperfect. But I've had my pain, and I've had my anger, and now I've forgiven and let go. I am capable of reconciliation with man, like (though mine is such a lesser extent) the reconciliation I am so grateful God grants me, knowing I'll never earn it.

I could see much more clearly after I cried what damage I could have done, i fI hadn't decided to do this to and take these steps to grant me peace, both now and for whenever I die. Before, my anger and fear and pain was like a shield around me; nothing could get in to hurt me.

But none of the pain could get out, either. And if I had kept it up, I would have cute myself off from so many things.

Hard hearts are strong in their own way, after all--but not all kinds of strength are good. Not if it keeps the good things out and the bad things in as well as other bad things out.

I had such a moment of peace and clarity in reading that section of the book last night; to me, the Colors are all aspects of the one God, which is the One Black spoke of. And I just happened to read the right thing from the right color at the right time.

And so I can honestly say, I forgive you. With all that means, as I've defined it. I love you.

I can't apologize for things never done. But for anything I have done, I do repent and ask forgiveness from you and God both, and would perform penance if asked.

But whether you forgive me or not, I forgive you, all of you--I'm in different stages for some people than others, but I'm working on every one that needs the work.

And to all of you, I love you. Deeply, personally, closely, and truely. And it's not just words.

It may not mean anything to you at all. I know that.

But it's still true.