Over 10 years of therapy and relatively nothing has changed. Treatment resistant, medication resistant, unable to assist. All of those have been written on my paperwork.
I told my therapist the other day that I want to die, yet no way of dying is 100%. It has been suggested that I get out and join a club. I tried a book club. The book had to many triggers and the discussion was even worse. Child abuse, spousal abuse, and substance abuse were all a part of the book.
Then I am told to go out and do normal activities. I have panic attacks at the store that leave me frozen and feeling like the store is closing in around me. I always feel like I will be attacked at places that do not have many people around like gas stations. My vocal cords seem to freeze up when I want to ask for something.
I have resorted to buying things online. Even then, I do not answer the door when the doorbell rings because I am scared of who may be on the other side. I feel like people can tell I am damaged by the way that I shake and avoid eye contact.
Then there is the anger that can be activated at any time. This is not normal anger. I am afraid I will actually hurt someone else. Anything can set off the anger and once it begins I have trouble stopping.
Where is my place in society? What do I do if I cannot leave the house and am scared to hurt people? How do I perform everyday tasks while the space is closing in on me and I am shaking to the point of just wanting to sit and scream for help?
How do I begin to work through this? When are my thoughts not automatically going to go to not existing? Who am I ? All of these are questions that I need to answer, yet do not seem to know how.
Am I screwing everything and everyone around me up? Am I just a burden? How am I going to get through the next five minutes? Can I handle the rest of the day? Do I really need that appointment, I really would like to cancel.
That has been my thought process for over a week now. I have always been anxious yet it seems to be getting worse and prevent what little life I have to begin to dwindle down to nothing.
It is like every self loathing comment has surfaced. Every negative comment said to me is being repeated over and over in my mind. It is like my mind is ready to deal with these things, yet part of it is saying that it is still to much to go through.
Anxiety is not fun and invades life at the worst moments sometimes causing me to freeze where I am and forget everything that I was doing before that moment happened. There is more than just feeling on edge and my heart pounding. Everything seems to close in until I do not even fit in the scene.
I am seeing the doctor today and hope that he can help. I do not want to keep feeling like everything is dropping out from under me.
When did the days just seem to melt from one to the next? The only concrete times that I have are when the cats get fed. At other times, I am not sure of what time or day it is. I just seem to be lost. Lost in nightmares of the past that cause me to wake up ungrounded. Yes, I moved away from the place where I was abused, yet the memories are with me.
I think that I hear my abusers voice and want to find a place to hide or to prepare for the inevitable. I begin to sweat and all i want to do is run. Then I begin to realize that I am in a different house at a different point in time. I am an adult that in many ways still feels the terror of a child.
Some days I can be on auto pilot. Feed the cats, fold laundry, and maybe vacuum. Other days I can barely make it off the chair and am in and out of reality. Time just seems to pass without any real meaning. The clock is only a number. Inside I just want to crawl into bed and stay there. Maybe somewhere in those thoughts and dreams there will be the answers to the questions that I am to scared to face. There is to much shame. To much self blame and sympathy for those who hurt me.
How can I feel bad for them, yet berate myself for not telling someone or making it known? Why did I continue to live in that home long after I was 18? Why did I believe them when they said that they were the only ones who would ever live or care about me? Why did I believe the tales that they spun about people so that I would lose them from my life as well?
One fact is for certain. I cannot go back in time, I cannot bring people back that I wished I would have spent more time with. I cannot go back and try to leave the nightmare that was wrapped up on the outside as a pretty package.
It is easier to just be and not think. Thinking brings up to much and the I feel overwhelmed and like I am coming apart at the seems.
I just want this to be over. This being the flashbacks, nightmares, alienation, and physical illnesses. I thought that therapy would help. All it seems to be doing is going around in circles with no clear purpose.
Words like treatment resistant have been used. Apparently, that just means it will be harder to get better. I go into therapy every week and try to talk, yet I am blocked by all of the old messages of silence.
My emotions are buried. No matter how much I want them to come up, they stay down often leaving impulses to self harm. Why can’t I just communicate feelings like everyone else.
Today, I will try again to talk about ???? What do I talk about when everything seems to be imploding. Even my doctors I believe are sick of me. How much longer can I go on this way?
So much has happened this year. I have moved away from my abusers, I have a new cat, I have stayed out of the hospital, and I have found ways to relax or at least have tried.
I should feel better. I should be moving on with my life. Instead I still am scared to leave the house. I am not even sure why. It just causes a panic attack to get near the door.
True, I was able to get away from the proximity of my abusers and where the abuse happened. The dates and events still live in a corner of my mind and in some ways have gotten louder.
Today, I feel like my body and mind have created a prison for me. One that causes me to believe that the outside is dangerous. One where even when I close my eyes I have nightmares of what happened. One where I still lose time and easily get stressed out.
I am realize that all the move did was to separate me physically. Mentally, I am still that girl who was abused, teased, and unwanted.
Hopefully, the next year means that I will be able to work through some of this, yet I am reluctant to discuss what went on. Somehow I need to find a way to live with this and stop contemplating ways to end all of this discord and unrest.
Our family is looking at moving out of the area where I was abused. In some ways it is scary. In other ways I am looking forward to be able to go out of the house and maybe explore a new area.
It will be weird to not be by my abusers and to not have to come back to the neighborhood. I feel like my life is going to get a second chance and I cannot ruin it. Maybe going back to school at different college with a different viewpoint will help.
My family can make new memories at a new place that may allow me to finally get well and recover. I will be able to still see my treatment team. I will try to keep the blog updated. Especially when we find a house and have a contract.
I had to go for a mandatory test yesterday with a doctor that I did not know. The test was administered in an area where I grew up. Everything came flooding back to me as I sat in the damp waiting room with a tiny air conditioner which had seen better days.
I remembered my mother leaving me in the car as she would go shopping in businesses that were gone long ago or going to the dentist in the same buildings. Just down the street was the church where I had made all of my sacraments and was glad to get away from as soon as I could.
This was an area that I choose not to go into because it was a dark hole in my past. This was an area of living nightmares and haunting experiences. I intentionally avoid the area when at all possible. Yesterday, I did not have a choice. I was mandated to go into a little building with a dark staircase and a mildewy smell.
This caused all of my symptoms to become active. I was having flashbacks, I was hyper vigilant, I began to shake, and I had impulses to self harm to feel better. The examiner asked if I was like this all the time and I replied that I was uncomfortable and the shaking was not unusual.
The examiner actually followed me out to my car after the test to make sure I was ok. The first thing that I did was to email my therapist and then call my psychiatrist. The next thing that I remember was that I called my husband to tell him that I was not safe to drive home. My hands and feet were going numb and I was in and out of the present.
I felt violated. Someone who did not know me or my condition was asking me questions that I had a hard time answering. I did not want to discuss my abuse in detail and only gave who and the years that it occurred. She wanted to know details about my illness that I have not shared with those who have been treating me for years.
She seemed to believe I was ok because I white knuckled it to stay out of the hospital to see my children. Even though I told her I was needing to call my treatment team more than once a week to check in with my safety.
Yesterday night was hard. I have flashes of my husband asking me about my PRN’s and what I needed. I do not know what I would do without him. Today, I just want to isolate. I do not want to see or speak to anyone. I am questioning if this brought up to much and if I should go into the hospital and am trying weigh the pros and cons of inpatient vs outpatient treatment. Inpatient would at least make me feel safe and allow me to have staff there, yet I need to work on things in outpatient treatment in order to function outside of the hospital’s protective walls.
As hard as I am trying to move forward the PTSD and the past keep pulling me back. It is like I cannot get away at all anymore. My physical symptoms have become worse. It is almost impossible to go to class with all of the anxiety.
I feel like shutting myself up in the house and locking the door. Even going to the doctor feels like it is too much. All of my energy is drained. I cannot seem to focus, as much as I may try.
Trauma is its own form of hell. Reliving anniversaries or all of sudden smelling something that brings back a horrible time or memory.
It is not a good time right now. I am hoping to be able to keep going, yet I am just not sure that it is possible.
I wish that they made a medication or a treatment that would make all of the memories go away. They are always there, always a part of my past. There are the days that I can use my coping skills and diminish the effects of a memory or flashback. There are other days when even the best coping skills do not work.
Sometimes I wish that I knew more about my family history. That people were more honest about what they went through and if it still bothered them. Maybe it would help me to understand why I have PTSD and others do not.
I was once told by a treatment provider that everyone does does not get PTSD. There could be 40 people in a space when a traumatic event happens and only a small percentage would have the symptoms associated with PTSD.
I think of it like a switch. The switch can be turned off for years. Then, something happens, and that switch gets turned on. Why can’t the doctors figure out what that is and make a medication or therapy that treats that switch.
Instead, those memories take the form of flashbacks and nightmares. They are a part of me. A part that some people cannot accept and others think that they will catch.
One day, with advocacy and education, more people will understand mental illness and be open to accepting those who have it. Those in medical school will be interested in researching trauma and there will be more students who choose to go into the field. That is my hope!