Storm-Chased Clarity

Jul 3

Hey warriors,
Thunderheads rolled in like dark freight trains tonight. I parked under an awning, heart pounding like the old days in Milwaukee. Harley pressed his head into my chest—that living, breathing weighted blanket. The storm passed. So did the panic.

Road takeaway: Triggers are real, but so is triumph. When the flashbacks hit, find your anchor—dog, prayer, grounding exercise—and ride it out. Storms end. Your story keeps going.