Today is hard.
I don't know what else to say. Soul crushing comes to mind. My eyes are watery because tears keep rising to the surface. I feel heartache.
I just don't feel like being here anymore. I just don't feel anything positive today.
Friday, April 28, 2017
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Pills. Pills. Pills.
This entry is all about pills. I am on 3 different types of pills: Sertraline, Prazosin, BusPirone. I take the BusPirone up to 3 times a day. Some times less. I take everything else once a day, Sertraline in the morning and Prazosin at night.
Here is a breakdown on what each pill does for me. (Although I have posted something similar before)
Sertraline, aka Zoloft, is for PTSD symptoms including reexperiencing (intrusive thoughts, nightmares, flashbacks, images, or memories); emotional numbing and avoidance (flattened affect or detachment, loss of interest and motivation, and avoidance of any activity, place, person, or topic associated with the trauma); and increased arousal (startle reactions, poor concentration, irritability and jumpiness, and insomnia or hypervigilance). So... it's helping a little I suppose. I am less on edge, my flashbacks are nearly gone, It's not a miracle drug though so I have to take these other pills to help keep me balanced. I have posted before about what it's like to miss this pill. It's something I don't want to reexperience. This is my most important pill!
The BusPirone helps me stay calm. It stops my panic attacks, as much as it can. It makes me stay levelheaded when a loud noise triggers me. It's almost instantaneous. If I take it before a stressful event, at least 30 minutes before, I should be fine. No panic attacks, no crying, just me being calm cool and collective.
Prazosin is the new one. It was supposed to help me sleep better, by taking away my nightmares. I think I can officially say that the nightmares are just about gone. I cannot remember the last time I had a dream about a shooting. It has to have been at least a week since a shooting nightmare. Maybe a little less than a week from a regular nightmare. So it took about a month to see any benefit from this one. I am not sure if that's average or not.
Video Jessica pretty much says it all. I have to take all of these pills to have the illusion of being normal, when my thoughts are anything but normal. When my instincts tell me to do something completely different like scream or run away or quit my job... It keeps me grounded. These medications are my new normal. This life is my new normal. That incident that happened in January will forever be apart of me. I just have to accept that pills will also be apart of me until I am ready to live life without them.
Now that you have my take on it things, here is a video by The Mighty about Medication for Mental illness.
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Brown Shoes
I couldn't stop thinking about them yesterday. Terry and Ann. I literally just found his Facebook page. What's that old saying about curiosity? I hate that I can't stop myself from googling his name. I am conflicted that I found his page. On on the day of this entry. I knew I was going to write about him today.
I had a thought, but more like a prayer, yesterday.
I thought about his brown shoes and remembered begging him to move them. Then something strange happened... I saw movement. I saw his feet move. Then he slowly got up from the ground as his wife came over to him. They hug and kiss and stand up together. I fantasized about their vacation and the cruise. Taking pictures on the deck, swimming in the ocean, drinking out of pineapples. Face-timing with their children and grand children. Later, I imagined them walking through a door, with fresh tans, albeit slightly burned cheeks. As they put down their stuff, their grandchildren run to them and hug them. Their children kiss them both on the cheek. Then they sit around the dinner table telling fun stories and showing pictures of their cruise and all the fun they had. I imagine them going to bed feeling love, happiness, and peace.
"That's my husband," she wailed.
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
I die every day
I guess I only have myself to blame. I put myself in these stressful situations. I started my day with espresso, I went to a big, loud event with lots of people in a neighborhood that recently had some shootings, I tried to be a mediator when my family was arguing, and I picked up that book again. I can only blame myself for ending my already intense day with a book on an intense subject. I can only blame myself for dying again.
As you can see from the entry that proceeds this, I had a PTSD episode. I can only blame myself. I was the trigger. I was reading the story and thinking about my weekend. How many times I freaked out because of how dark it was outside or in a room I was occupying - remember, I am scared of the dark - and then like magic, a panic attack comes over me. I've been getting better at handling my attacks. Learning to breathe is the biggest thing - but that's a whole other thing.
After I put the book down, I turned on my side. I started thinking about why I was scared of the dark. What is the connection bridging the attack that happened in daylight inside a lit airport, to make darkness so triggering for me. I figured it out - as I laid on stomach, with my head tilted to the side facing my ghost. It was because that's all I could think about when I was waiting to die. I was thinking about the blackness that comes after your heart stops beating - the nothingness. I started to cry. I just wanted to go to bed.
As I crawled into bed, with freshly washed sheets, I couldn't stop lying like that. On the stomach, head to the side, facing my ghost. I thought of his shoes. I thought of Terry's shoes. I started going back there. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop remembering Terry. Everything around me seemed hyper-realistic. It felt like a reality beyond our own, that wasn't meant to be seen. Like looking through a telescope, pointed at a camera lens, that is pointed at a magnifying class. I could see into something that we ignore everyday, a reality that is just out of sight to the untrained eye.
I was there again. I could see him in front of me. I was still on the edge of the bed but his shoes were right in front of me. The ghost's shoes are pacing back and forth from our area. Terry is already dead, I can sense it. I know what I am seeing is not real, but yet it is real to me every single day. Erich helps me snap out of it. I didn't realize tears were streaming from my face. He was asking me questions, but I couldn't communicate with him. Even a simple head nod seemed impossible. That's when the paranoia kicked in.
So what was a PTSD episode like this time? It was a massive panic attack. I mentioned earlier that I am getting better at handling my panic attacks. I can keep them under control to an extent. This, however, I am a slave to. It's like my brain and body forget how to breathe. My breathing is short, fast, and erratic. No amount of preparation can keep me in control. I then think I am going to die.
When I say I think I am going to die, it's as close to literal as I believe you can get. I truly, honestly, believe that I am about to die. I can vividly imagine the gun going off at my head. I know I can never fully put into words how it feels, because it's a feeling most people never experience. Having your brain work so hard against you to make you believe that each moment, a gun will go off and then the blackness will set in... It's something I don't think anyone should have to experience.
I am crying as I type this out because I know how I felt yesterday. How terrifying it is to feel that way. To feel that way almost every day right before a panic attack. To feel that way almost every minute during an PTSD episode. I am not me during an episode. Looking back on what happened last night, it feels like it was a completely different person it was happening to. The me I am now wants to go and hug that girl. To tell her she isn't going to die. To tell her that everything will be okay. To lie to her until she feels better. I am in tears now because my heart breaks for that girl, and I know next time I see that girl, I still will not be able to help her.
I feel like I have more to say, but I just can't right now. I am too emotional and I have to put on a fake smile for work. Please, everyone who is reading this, go hug someone you love right now. Please do that for me. Let everyone in your life know that you love them. Pray for those who cannot find love in their life. Pray for me, because I feel like I will not feel love today.
As you can see from the entry that proceeds this, I had a PTSD episode. I can only blame myself. I was the trigger. I was reading the story and thinking about my weekend. How many times I freaked out because of how dark it was outside or in a room I was occupying - remember, I am scared of the dark - and then like magic, a panic attack comes over me. I've been getting better at handling my attacks. Learning to breathe is the biggest thing - but that's a whole other thing.
After I put the book down, I turned on my side. I started thinking about why I was scared of the dark. What is the connection bridging the attack that happened in daylight inside a lit airport, to make darkness so triggering for me. I figured it out - as I laid on stomach, with my head tilted to the side facing my ghost. It was because that's all I could think about when I was waiting to die. I was thinking about the blackness that comes after your heart stops beating - the nothingness. I started to cry. I just wanted to go to bed.
As I crawled into bed, with freshly washed sheets, I couldn't stop lying like that. On the stomach, head to the side, facing my ghost. I thought of his shoes. I thought of Terry's shoes. I started going back there. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop remembering Terry. Everything around me seemed hyper-realistic. It felt like a reality beyond our own, that wasn't meant to be seen. Like looking through a telescope, pointed at a camera lens, that is pointed at a magnifying class. I could see into something that we ignore everyday, a reality that is just out of sight to the untrained eye.
I was there again. I could see him in front of me. I was still on the edge of the bed but his shoes were right in front of me. The ghost's shoes are pacing back and forth from our area. Terry is already dead, I can sense it. I know what I am seeing is not real, but yet it is real to me every single day. Erich helps me snap out of it. I didn't realize tears were streaming from my face. He was asking me questions, but I couldn't communicate with him. Even a simple head nod seemed impossible. That's when the paranoia kicked in.
So what was a PTSD episode like this time? It was a massive panic attack. I mentioned earlier that I am getting better at handling my panic attacks. I can keep them under control to an extent. This, however, I am a slave to. It's like my brain and body forget how to breathe. My breathing is short, fast, and erratic. No amount of preparation can keep me in control. I then think I am going to die.
When I say I think I am going to die, it's as close to literal as I believe you can get. I truly, honestly, believe that I am about to die. I can vividly imagine the gun going off at my head. I know I can never fully put into words how it feels, because it's a feeling most people never experience. Having your brain work so hard against you to make you believe that each moment, a gun will go off and then the blackness will set in... It's something I don't think anyone should have to experience.
I am crying as I type this out because I know how I felt yesterday. How terrifying it is to feel that way. To feel that way almost every day right before a panic attack. To feel that way almost every minute during an PTSD episode. I am not me during an episode. Looking back on what happened last night, it feels like it was a completely different person it was happening to. The me I am now wants to go and hug that girl. To tell her she isn't going to die. To tell her that everything will be okay. To lie to her until she feels better. I am in tears now because my heart breaks for that girl, and I know next time I see that girl, I still will not be able to help her.
I feel like I have more to say, but I just can't right now. I am too emotional and I have to put on a fake smile for work. Please, everyone who is reading this, go hug someone you love right now. Please do that for me. Let everyone in your life know that you love them. Pray for those who cannot find love in their life. Pray for me, because I feel like I will not feel love today.
Monday, April 24, 2017
That small line
I've been sitting on this thought for almost a week. I haven't really been able to put into words all that is going on in my head lately. I've been pulled towards stories of mental illness. It's a new magnetism I have picked up. I seek out stories of disaster, heartbreak, and tragedy at the cause of untreated mental illness. As a sufferer from mental illness myself, I wonder what makes me different than the people I read about?
This weekend I picked up A Mother's Reckoning. I mentioned doing so in my last entry. What made me actually do it is all profits go to mental health charities, including Mental Health America (MHA), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), American Association of Suicidology (AAS) and Brain & Behavior Research Foundation. I have to admit, I am not very far into the book. I will definitely dive into it soon, but I after making the purchase I've been questioning my own brain health and what keeps me from crossing the same line others have crossed; the line that stops me from becoming one of these tragedies.
I imagine myself sitting at the edge of the line. I am there alone on my side, but look out and see so many others on the opposite side: Columbine Shooters, Virginia Tech Shooter, DC Snipers, Sandy Hook shooter, The Facebook Killer, Aurora Theater Shooter... It's massive on the other side of the line. The person staring directly at me is, of course, my personal demon, The Fort Lauderdale Airport shooter. They have all been accused of mental illness and shooting their victims, or participating in a mass shooting. Most of them went into it knowing they would kill themselves after. Shootings, suicide, and mental illness. It's been a slight obsession with me lately. I can't help it, it's apart of my magnetic pull.
I've read their stories many times trying to understand them. Trying to figure out why each and every one of them stepped over the line. Why are they on the other side, and I am over here? I have been wondering if it is inevitable that I will end up on the other side. Not that I would ever kill anyone else. Let me say that again: I will never kill. Not an animal, not a human, not even annoying flies buzzing around my head. It's why I chose to go vegetarian; it's why I am a humanitarian. But I have to admit that the thought of killing myself has been coming up often. But why?
I think it's just apart of my journey. Just a phase where I ponder the meaning of life, of living with mental illness, and living with survivor's guilt. It's something that I know will pass and even now, the thoughts are more passive than anything. Typing this all out scares me. I am scared of the stigma that will come about me even talking about the line existing. Talking about the thoughts that come into my brain. But that's just it. We all need to talk about it. We cannot allow mental illness, and all that comes with it, to be swept under the rug. We have to bring awareness to it. The more we stigmatize it, the less likely we are to seek help, the more likely we are to cross over.
With that said, I am going to do something extremely scary. I am going to post this blog's link for everyone. I am going to open up my thoughts, my suffering, for all in my life to read. With this act, it will be my first step on the road to helping others out there. I will talk about it openly, and if they choose, they can talk to me about it openly. Then we can help and support each other. I am also signing up for peer support specialist training, if I can find a date that I can attend! If I can save one person, that would give my life meaning...
Until then, I will sit on my side of the line, and look out to those who were so unlucky to be sitting opposite of me.
This weekend I picked up A Mother's Reckoning. I mentioned doing so in my last entry. What made me actually do it is all profits go to mental health charities, including Mental Health America (MHA), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP), American Association of Suicidology (AAS) and Brain & Behavior Research Foundation. I have to admit, I am not very far into the book. I will definitely dive into it soon, but I after making the purchase I've been questioning my own brain health and what keeps me from crossing the same line others have crossed; the line that stops me from becoming one of these tragedies.
I imagine myself sitting at the edge of the line. I am there alone on my side, but look out and see so many others on the opposite side: Columbine Shooters, Virginia Tech Shooter, DC Snipers, Sandy Hook shooter, The Facebook Killer, Aurora Theater Shooter... It's massive on the other side of the line. The person staring directly at me is, of course, my personal demon, The Fort Lauderdale Airport shooter. They have all been accused of mental illness and shooting their victims, or participating in a mass shooting. Most of them went into it knowing they would kill themselves after. Shootings, suicide, and mental illness. It's been a slight obsession with me lately. I can't help it, it's apart of my magnetic pull.
I've read their stories many times trying to understand them. Trying to figure out why each and every one of them stepped over the line. Why are they on the other side, and I am over here? I have been wondering if it is inevitable that I will end up on the other side. Not that I would ever kill anyone else. Let me say that again: I will never kill. Not an animal, not a human, not even annoying flies buzzing around my head. It's why I chose to go vegetarian; it's why I am a humanitarian. But I have to admit that the thought of killing myself has been coming up often. But why?
I think it's just apart of my journey. Just a phase where I ponder the meaning of life, of living with mental illness, and living with survivor's guilt. It's something that I know will pass and even now, the thoughts are more passive than anything. Typing this all out scares me. I am scared of the stigma that will come about me even talking about the line existing. Talking about the thoughts that come into my brain. But that's just it. We all need to talk about it. We cannot allow mental illness, and all that comes with it, to be swept under the rug. We have to bring awareness to it. The more we stigmatize it, the less likely we are to seek help, the more likely we are to cross over.
With that said, I am going to do something extremely scary. I am going to post this blog's link for everyone. I am going to open up my thoughts, my suffering, for all in my life to read. With this act, it will be my first step on the road to helping others out there. I will talk about it openly, and if they choose, they can talk to me about it openly. Then we can help and support each other. I am also signing up for peer support specialist training, if I can find a date that I can attend! If I can save one person, that would give my life meaning...
Until then, I will sit on my side of the line, and look out to those who were so unlucky to be sitting opposite of me.
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
"My son was a Columbine shooter. This is my story"
I found this link today. Through a series of reading about all the horrible things in the world, and all the people causing those horrible things to happen... I found this. This might sound strange or silly, but this lady is an inspiration. She is out there fighting for mental health issues. I just want to be able to do the same as her. I want to be as brave as her. I think I might order her book now.
...I've had a sucky day. I just want to cry and be alone. I've already cried a lot today. I am just done with the day...
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
Not doing well posting
Lately I haven't had a desire to post updates. What can I say? The world has seriously gone so downhill. It's not like I've been really focusing on trying to stay safe. There is just so much horribleness in the world. Like so much gun violence and senseless killing. I cry every day thinking about it. Any time I am alone, I just cry or panic now...
I haven't been taking my BusPar. I know, I probably should start taking it again. I am having panic attacks and crying fits again. I guess I will start taking it tomorrow. I just wish I didn't have to take it all. I had 5 panic attacks last Sunday. They were back to back to back. I had one this morning and had to sit in my parked car for a few minutes before composing myself to move along.
Even when I feel good and confident I am still scared in public. I am scared that someone will shoot me in the face for no reason. Someone will come up and just senselessly murder me. That at any moment gun violence will break out.
I am crying right now... I guess I really need to start taking those pills again.
I am just not ready for the world. The world terrifies me.
I haven't been taking my BusPar. I know, I probably should start taking it again. I am having panic attacks and crying fits again. I guess I will start taking it tomorrow. I just wish I didn't have to take it all. I had 5 panic attacks last Sunday. They were back to back to back. I had one this morning and had to sit in my parked car for a few minutes before composing myself to move along.
Even when I feel good and confident I am still scared in public. I am scared that someone will shoot me in the face for no reason. Someone will come up and just senselessly murder me. That at any moment gun violence will break out.
I am crying right now... I guess I really need to start taking those pills again.
I am just not ready for the world. The world terrifies me.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Thursday, April 13, 2017
Safety
I am obsessed with the idea of feeling safe. I need to get my hands on a tally counter or something similar to see how often these thoughts come up a day.
Lately, I suppose I haven't been feeling too safe in my home. I keep imagining (to the point where I make myself audibly gasp), that someone will break into my house and kill me. Then what would my reaction be if confronted by that person.
For example, sometimes when I am showering, after Erich leaves for work, I just imagine the door slowly creeping open. A man walking stealthily through the house, and opening the bathroom door. He points a gun at me and I turn around and face him. I imagine not begging for my life, but for him to please at minimum to call my mother and let her know what happened, so Erich isn't the one to find me. I wonder if there is any reasoning with a person like that, but I cannot help but try and imagine it. Then I imagine what it will feel like after the gun goes off. How do I fall to the floor/shower? How does the blood splatter? Would he shoot me in my head or chest? Will he turn off the water after?
When I am in my basement, I imagine something similar, but my urge to hide overrides my urge to reason with him. I try to figure out what is the best place to hide if an intrude forces his way in, upstairs. Should I grab my animals and take them to another room and lock the door? Should I try to escape out the window? Should I lay flat and play dead? In this scenario I always imagine the choice I make being the wrong one and him finding me and shooting me.
Obsessive thoughts.
I just cannot shake them. I still constantly have the thoughts that I have posted about previously, but I never realized how often I have them in my own home. My home is supposed to be safe, but I guess I never fully feel safe there either. Will I always have these thoughts? Will they keep me safe, or are they just taking up useless space in my mind? Will I ever feel safe?
There is too much ugliness in the world. Too many attacks, shootings, and evil doings. I don't think I will feel safe anywhere in the world.
Lately, I suppose I haven't been feeling too safe in my home. I keep imagining (to the point where I make myself audibly gasp), that someone will break into my house and kill me. Then what would my reaction be if confronted by that person.
For example, sometimes when I am showering, after Erich leaves for work, I just imagine the door slowly creeping open. A man walking stealthily through the house, and opening the bathroom door. He points a gun at me and I turn around and face him. I imagine not begging for my life, but for him to please at minimum to call my mother and let her know what happened, so Erich isn't the one to find me. I wonder if there is any reasoning with a person like that, but I cannot help but try and imagine it. Then I imagine what it will feel like after the gun goes off. How do I fall to the floor/shower? How does the blood splatter? Would he shoot me in my head or chest? Will he turn off the water after?
When I am in my basement, I imagine something similar, but my urge to hide overrides my urge to reason with him. I try to figure out what is the best place to hide if an intrude forces his way in, upstairs. Should I grab my animals and take them to another room and lock the door? Should I try to escape out the window? Should I lay flat and play dead? In this scenario I always imagine the choice I make being the wrong one and him finding me and shooting me.
Obsessive thoughts.
I just cannot shake them. I still constantly have the thoughts that I have posted about previously, but I never realized how often I have them in my own home. My home is supposed to be safe, but I guess I never fully feel safe there either. Will I always have these thoughts? Will they keep me safe, or are they just taking up useless space in my mind? Will I ever feel safe?
There is too much ugliness in the world. Too many attacks, shootings, and evil doings. I don't think I will feel safe anywhere in the world.
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Everyone around me is falling apart
Just because I'm dealing with all of this, doesn't mean other people are not struggling as well. Every body is struggling with their own issues, and those issues are the most important to the individual.
Something horrible recently happened to a close friend. I will not say what happened, but it was one of the most awful things that can happen to a person. I was told at a time where I was already feeling low. I perked myself up and tried my best to be there for that person...
...But they wouldn't stop coming to me for advice. I felt the weight of my own issues I carry, and now this new issue with a friend pounding down on me. I had to shut off my phone for piece of mind, and let them take care of themselves. I just couldn't give them any more at that moment.
Then, when I turn my phone back on, I am sucked into another whirlwind. In a group message, other people I am close to are bickering. They are telling each other how to live their live's, pulling out mistakes from the past, telling them mistakes they will make in the future are not smart. Personal attacks... Every time I tried to jump in and cut them off, I got either ignored or accused of sweeping it under the rug.
It eventually caused me to have a vicious panic attack. I was at least a week free of panic attacks until yesterday. Everyone's issues seem to be coming to the surface and I want to be there to help, but I am not strong enough... Mentally, I am not there.
I cried last night. I had asthma problems all night. That panic attack messed me up.
I am trying to keep positive and pursue my goals of being a peer support specialist. I want to be there to help others... But I recognize I am not strong enough for it now.
Something horrible recently happened to a close friend. I will not say what happened, but it was one of the most awful things that can happen to a person. I was told at a time where I was already feeling low. I perked myself up and tried my best to be there for that person...
...But they wouldn't stop coming to me for advice. I felt the weight of my own issues I carry, and now this new issue with a friend pounding down on me. I had to shut off my phone for piece of mind, and let them take care of themselves. I just couldn't give them any more at that moment.
Then, when I turn my phone back on, I am sucked into another whirlwind. In a group message, other people I am close to are bickering. They are telling each other how to live their live's, pulling out mistakes from the past, telling them mistakes they will make in the future are not smart. Personal attacks... Every time I tried to jump in and cut them off, I got either ignored or accused of sweeping it under the rug.
It eventually caused me to have a vicious panic attack. I was at least a week free of panic attacks until yesterday. Everyone's issues seem to be coming to the surface and I want to be there to help, but I am not strong enough... Mentally, I am not there.
I cried last night. I had asthma problems all night. That panic attack messed me up.
I am trying to keep positive and pursue my goals of being a peer support specialist. I want to be there to help others... But I recognize I am not strong enough for it now.
Tuesday, April 11, 2017
There are others like me, but where?
So I officially reached out to Facebook about finding people who need a support community. I am hoping someone takes me up my offer. I am also officially looking into becoming a Certified Peer Support Specialist. I think this is my calling. I think this is what I am meant to do. I hope I can help someone.
I don't have much to report today. My Prazosin is working. I feel like my bad dreams are going away. I either cannot remember my dreams, or they do not have a lasting effect. So let's praise prazosin! lol
I keep forgetting my Sertraline though. I need to get better at that. But at least I am catching it before I head to work.
I saw two Mallard ducks in my front yard on the way to work. Mallards are Erich's favorite type of duck. I am taking it as a hopeful sign :)
That's all my entry will be about today. I know I have readers now, so please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. Let me know if there is anything you want me to go more into detail about. Don't let me stop blogging. I hope I can help someone out there with my experience eventually. But for now, this blog is all I have to offer.
With Love,
Me <3
I don't have much to report today. My Prazosin is working. I feel like my bad dreams are going away. I either cannot remember my dreams, or they do not have a lasting effect. So let's praise prazosin! lol
I keep forgetting my Sertraline though. I need to get better at that. But at least I am catching it before I head to work.
I saw two Mallard ducks in my front yard on the way to work. Mallards are Erich's favorite type of duck. I am taking it as a hopeful sign :)
That's all my entry will be about today. I know I have readers now, so please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. Let me know if there is anything you want me to go more into detail about. Don't let me stop blogging. I hope I can help someone out there with my experience eventually. But for now, this blog is all I have to offer.
With Love,
Me <3
Monday, April 10, 2017
Friday Update... But on a Monday!
Okay so here is the update from my Doctor's appointment on Friday.
We started doing prolonged exposure again. We took a few breaks from it for various reasons: I was worried about Erich, one week, and she gave me tips to deal with him. She was out sick one week. I was sleep deprived another week and she told me to rest up. So basically... It was my first time in a long time doing exposure therapy. The last time I did it, I was a wreck the rest of the week. Cried all day, nightmares all night, panic attacks everywhere in-between. So I decided I should not drive myself to my appointment because it would be too much for me to handle driving home.
I was right. We started up prolonged exposure. We started it by reading the letter I wrote to Ann. It was short and to the point, but it still brought out a lot of emotion for me. As I was reading it I could see the scene again. It was like I could read the words but in my mind I was flashing back to her, and her husband, and her cries. I feel so connected to her, and I know she must not even remember me at all. She has become a part of my day, everyday. I hope she is doing well. I hope she is surrounded by loved ones. I hope she is finding happiness again. I would love to know how she is doing and be able to help her out, in any way I could.
Anyways, we started talking more about the incident. I told her I opened up, in person, to a few people, but not many at all. Like 3 people in total. I told her I started blogging everyday about things, like what happened, how I feel day to day, what PTSD is like. She was surprised. She said that it looks like I've been doing some prolonged exposure at home as well. That this blog is a form of exposing myself and making it the new normal. New Normal. Ugh. I guess I need to get used to it, that who I am now, and what happened to me, is now my new normal. Nothing will ever be like it once was.
I was a bit shaken up from that experience, but my anxiety was controllable, until I left her office. Then the tears came and I was visibly shaken. Lucky, I had a friend take me home, so I didn't have to drive, and I just did some self care at home.
Next time, she is going to make me close my eyes and take me through an imaginary scenario. From there, we are going to work and get me to the airport... the the baggage claim area... which makes my anxiety high.
Future Goals!
Here is something I am really dying to talk about. I mentioned searching for a sense of community; finding someone out there who experienced or is going through something similar to what I am. Most online support groups are impersonal, and most local support groups are geared towards Veterans- which they experience is completely different than mine. The recovery might be the same, but it doesn't feel the same to me, and I don't want to intrude on what they might find a "safe space." Not sure if that makes sense, but it makes sense to me in my head.
Anyway, I mentioned wanting to find someone to reach out to; to find support and to support others in a similar situation. I mentioned a shooting happening a week or so ago in Louisville, and how that there had to be someone who was there having similar symptoms as I am. How these attacks are coming up frequently and there are people who were put in my position and that I just know they might want to reach out to someone as well. I just know it, and I want to be there for them and we can help each other out.
She agreed. She pointed out that being able to help others is one of the "good" things to come out of this experience. She said that if I cannot find one, make one. Reach out to the local police department and see if there is an interest. Reach out to the local colleges and see if they have anything. Or just put out some feelers and start one on my own. I don't have to lead it, it could be group led. I absolutely love that idea so...
New Goals
Short Term: Exorcise 10 mins a day, 3 times a week (Doctor's orders). Go out in public, alone, with no support nearby. Find a support group or put out some feelers for one.
Long Term: Create a group, be a mentor to others who are in my shoes.
We started doing prolonged exposure again. We took a few breaks from it for various reasons: I was worried about Erich, one week, and she gave me tips to deal with him. She was out sick one week. I was sleep deprived another week and she told me to rest up. So basically... It was my first time in a long time doing exposure therapy. The last time I did it, I was a wreck the rest of the week. Cried all day, nightmares all night, panic attacks everywhere in-between. So I decided I should not drive myself to my appointment because it would be too much for me to handle driving home.
I was right. We started up prolonged exposure. We started it by reading the letter I wrote to Ann. It was short and to the point, but it still brought out a lot of emotion for me. As I was reading it I could see the scene again. It was like I could read the words but in my mind I was flashing back to her, and her husband, and her cries. I feel so connected to her, and I know she must not even remember me at all. She has become a part of my day, everyday. I hope she is doing well. I hope she is surrounded by loved ones. I hope she is finding happiness again. I would love to know how she is doing and be able to help her out, in any way I could.
Anyways, we started talking more about the incident. I told her I opened up, in person, to a few people, but not many at all. Like 3 people in total. I told her I started blogging everyday about things, like what happened, how I feel day to day, what PTSD is like. She was surprised. She said that it looks like I've been doing some prolonged exposure at home as well. That this blog is a form of exposing myself and making it the new normal. New Normal. Ugh. I guess I need to get used to it, that who I am now, and what happened to me, is now my new normal. Nothing will ever be like it once was.
I was a bit shaken up from that experience, but my anxiety was controllable, until I left her office. Then the tears came and I was visibly shaken. Lucky, I had a friend take me home, so I didn't have to drive, and I just did some self care at home.
Next time, she is going to make me close my eyes and take me through an imaginary scenario. From there, we are going to work and get me to the airport... the the baggage claim area... which makes my anxiety high.
Future Goals!
Here is something I am really dying to talk about. I mentioned searching for a sense of community; finding someone out there who experienced or is going through something similar to what I am. Most online support groups are impersonal, and most local support groups are geared towards Veterans- which they experience is completely different than mine. The recovery might be the same, but it doesn't feel the same to me, and I don't want to intrude on what they might find a "safe space." Not sure if that makes sense, but it makes sense to me in my head.
Anyway, I mentioned wanting to find someone to reach out to; to find support and to support others in a similar situation. I mentioned a shooting happening a week or so ago in Louisville, and how that there had to be someone who was there having similar symptoms as I am. How these attacks are coming up frequently and there are people who were put in my position and that I just know they might want to reach out to someone as well. I just know it, and I want to be there for them and we can help each other out.
She agreed. She pointed out that being able to help others is one of the "good" things to come out of this experience. She said that if I cannot find one, make one. Reach out to the local police department and see if there is an interest. Reach out to the local colleges and see if they have anything. Or just put out some feelers and start one on my own. I don't have to lead it, it could be group led. I absolutely love that idea so...
New Goals
Short Term: Exorcise 10 mins a day, 3 times a week (Doctor's orders). Go out in public, alone, with no support nearby. Find a support group or put out some feelers for one.
Long Term: Create a group, be a mentor to others who are in my shoes.
Friday, April 7, 2017
Another terrorist attack in Europe
I know I didn't write yesterday. I just was exhausted from writing. I also feel like I am starting to become redundant. But today, there was yet another major terrorist attack in Europe. Sweden to be exact. And now I am terrified.
I feel like I am about to start bawling my eyes out. My medicine can only suppress so much. My PTSD shadow is here. I feel like the shooter is right behind me and will kill me. I am at work and I am alone and I am freaking out.
I just need to go some where and hide for a while
I feel like I am about to start bawling my eyes out. My medicine can only suppress so much. My PTSD shadow is here. I feel like the shooter is right behind me and will kill me. I am at work and I am alone and I am freaking out.
I just need to go some where and hide for a while
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Missing a pill
Here is a video of me. I was late taking my pill. I almost forgot my pill.
I first got on the new schedule for this pill on Friday. I used to take it at night but now I am taking it in the morning, as the Doctor suggested. So I was "late" taking my pill on Saturday. I cried all day at everything and had panic attacks throughout the day. I am terrified that will be the reaction I will have today.
I am going to try and video document as well as write updates. I searched the internet for a real PTSD episode. I couldn't find any that looked like mine. It was mostly videos of people "AFTER" an episode. I had one the other night when it stormed.. I had the camera in my hand, but self preservation kept me from doing anything but hiding within myself. So no video of that yet.
On a side note, the pill that is supposed to take away my PTSD nightmares and help me sleep better (Prazosin) didn't have an effect last night. Was up all night tossing and turning with nightmares. Maybe it will get better.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
It's hard
I am going to be frank. It's hard. It's hard living with mental illness. That's what it is, mental illness. It's hard to deal with all the things going on in my life and maintain healthy relationships with those around me. I cannot stay for parties, I cannot go out a lot of places. I cannot be there for important events or milestones. I feel bad for backing out of plans. I feel bad for crying in front of them. I feel bad for being me.
It feels like they have become my caretakers. Like I cannot be real friends with them because I cannot function properly. I don't want to take advantage of them. I feel so bad that it's not as give and take as a good friendship should be. It's more that they give and I take because I need to take and I cannot give much of myself right now.
I have a few baby showers coming up. I know I probably won't be able to stay the whole time. I haven't even seen the mommas-to-be more than, what, two times each? I feel like I cannot be there for them during this wonderful time in their life. I feel like I am neglecting them.
I hurt them. I know I must hurt them. I know they must feel guilty for feeling hurt too. I hate that I am doing this to people I love. I know that I am doing better, but I know I am not there yet. I need to step up my game. I need to be the person, the friend, I used to be. I need to find a way to make it up to them all. To show them I love them.
I just don't know how.
And it hurts.
It feels like they have become my caretakers. Like I cannot be real friends with them because I cannot function properly. I don't want to take advantage of them. I feel so bad that it's not as give and take as a good friendship should be. It's more that they give and I take because I need to take and I cannot give much of myself right now.
I have a few baby showers coming up. I know I probably won't be able to stay the whole time. I haven't even seen the mommas-to-be more than, what, two times each? I feel like I cannot be there for them during this wonderful time in their life. I feel like I am neglecting them.
I hurt them. I know I must hurt them. I know they must feel guilty for feeling hurt too. I hate that I am doing this to people I love. I know that I am doing better, but I know I am not there yet. I need to step up my game. I need to be the person, the friend, I used to be. I need to find a way to make it up to them all. To show them I love them.
I just don't know how.
And it hurts.
Monday, April 3, 2017
The storm is calming
It was thundering not too long ago. It's still fresh so I am choosing to write about it. It sent electricity through my veins. Started from my heart and spread. It made my lungs freeze and my ears ring. They are still ringing. Everytime it thunders I scream. My eyes are watery. My ears can't stop ringing. I still feel like my veins are in shock. I am scared knowing it could thunder again. I hate this. I know if I tried to stand I would fall. My knees are weak. I am weak.
It's hard to keep these posts going
Nightmares haven't stopped. I am now on a medication called Prazosin. This is in addition to the Sertraline and Buspirone.
I've started taking my Setraline in the morning instead of at night. I am actually getting more sleep because of doing that! Not a full nights, but more than 2-3 hours. I went through a crazy temporary withdraw from switching it up though. I cried at E V E R Y T H I N G and my panic attacks came back in full force. I felt like I couldn't breath all day. Everything was setting me off. All from switching from taking that pill around 10-11PM and now taking it when I wake up in the morning... around 7-8AM. Those hours made a huge difference. Also made me scared to ever give up the medication.
Prazosin is now prescribed to keep the nightmares at bay. I was told by my doctor that this is what Vets, and other PTSD sufferers, are prescribed to keep the nightmares in control. If I could stop dreaming about shootings I would be in heaven. She said it isn't going to make them stop completely, but will keep my reaction to them under control. So no early morning panic attacks. Maybe making the nightmares lessen, and in some cases no memory of them at all. Heaven.
Erich is planning on opening up to Roberto. I am excited about that. Again, he flat out told me he didn't want to open up to me, for fear of triggering me. He came to the conclusion of opening up to Roberto on his own! Thank. God. He has been officially diagnosed with depression... again. He turned down medication for it, which isn't wise. I told him at his next appointment he needs to get on something. All I can be is a good example to him, and show him how the medication is helping me. I will stop nagging him about medication, and he seems to have come to the conclusion that he needs to take his current medication as directed! Hopefully when he opens up to a friend, they will encourage him to do the same.
My session with my doctor was only 30 minutes on Friday. She didn't want to continue it since my lack of sleep was obvious. Also I forgot to bring my letters and stuff. She said we can continue prolonged exposure therapy this Friday. She also said that she is impressed at the way I handled Erich's outburst and how well I am progressing so far. She makes it seem like it's a BIG improvement, so I guess I should be proud of myself for that. She thinks we can start spacing out our appointments. So that's another good thing.
Had a relaxing weekend away from home. Went to Patoka Lake with Erich and my Family (Marcus, Kelly, Kristen, Beau, Alysha, Liam, Lilly, Becca, Anthony, and Mom). Whoa, full house! Here are the few pictures I took.
I've started taking my Setraline in the morning instead of at night. I am actually getting more sleep because of doing that! Not a full nights, but more than 2-3 hours. I went through a crazy temporary withdraw from switching it up though. I cried at E V E R Y T H I N G and my panic attacks came back in full force. I felt like I couldn't breath all day. Everything was setting me off. All from switching from taking that pill around 10-11PM and now taking it when I wake up in the morning... around 7-8AM. Those hours made a huge difference. Also made me scared to ever give up the medication.
Prazosin is now prescribed to keep the nightmares at bay. I was told by my doctor that this is what Vets, and other PTSD sufferers, are prescribed to keep the nightmares in control. If I could stop dreaming about shootings I would be in heaven. She said it isn't going to make them stop completely, but will keep my reaction to them under control. So no early morning panic attacks. Maybe making the nightmares lessen, and in some cases no memory of them at all. Heaven.
Erich is planning on opening up to Roberto. I am excited about that. Again, he flat out told me he didn't want to open up to me, for fear of triggering me. He came to the conclusion of opening up to Roberto on his own! Thank. God. He has been officially diagnosed with depression... again. He turned down medication for it, which isn't wise. I told him at his next appointment he needs to get on something. All I can be is a good example to him, and show him how the medication is helping me. I will stop nagging him about medication, and he seems to have come to the conclusion that he needs to take his current medication as directed! Hopefully when he opens up to a friend, they will encourage him to do the same.
My session with my doctor was only 30 minutes on Friday. She didn't want to continue it since my lack of sleep was obvious. Also I forgot to bring my letters and stuff. She said we can continue prolonged exposure therapy this Friday. She also said that she is impressed at the way I handled Erich's outburst and how well I am progressing so far. She makes it seem like it's a BIG improvement, so I guess I should be proud of myself for that. She thinks we can start spacing out our appointments. So that's another good thing.
Had a relaxing weekend away from home. Went to Patoka Lake with Erich and my Family (Marcus, Kelly, Kristen, Beau, Alysha, Liam, Lilly, Becca, Anthony, and Mom). Whoa, full house! Here are the few pictures I took.
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| Erich at the lake |
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| Patoka Lake in Indiana |
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| My niece Lilly |
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| Enjoying the hot tub on a cool morning |
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