Meltdown

Had a meltdown yesterday.

My mom came over and talked with me. I told her I needed her.
I unloaded everything I wanted to unload to my therapist:

• I want to quit my Master's program
• My house is in disarray 
• I do not want to celebrate Halloween - I feel empty
• I don't know if I want to live anymore.

She held me. I cried. She made me do yard work. I cried. She gave me advice. I cried. But somehow, after all of it was out in the open. I felt a huge relief. She encouraged me to keep going with my Master's degree, to find things to keep my mind occupied, and to keep living. 

So, the big news is that I am continuing my Master's degree. Although I feel like I have ADHD with my anxiety and cognitive issues, I am still powering through these VERY hard classes. I just need to find things to keep my mind occupied. If my mind is occupied, my thoughts will not wonder to any negative areas.

Appointment today

Talking points:

I need to see  her more frequently or longer than these 30 minute sessions. It feel myself regressing with her schedule change.

I might have to quit my Master's program. I can't handle the stress. Too much stress. I am a failure.

I am actively avoiding almost everything causing stress. Avoidance is the number one thing I should NOT be doing, and yet... I cannot even look at Halloween decorations or watch things that are violent.

A sub-point of avoidance: I am avoiding my family.

Depression/suicidal thoughts are coming back. I get triggered by thinking I am dying, by feeling the pressure of a gun because someone is behind me, but now instead of fear, I just don't care.

I don't care about any of it.

UPDATE: She cancelled my appointment... Again... And I really needed her this time.

New job anxiety and a healthy environment!

This is what I posted to Facebook on July 7th:

During lunch I asked my immediate supervisor if I could have a short chat with her. She sat me down with her supervisor/my head supervisor as well (which is fine because they all acted concerned and was already sympathetic to what I was about to disclose).
I told them the condensed version of things. It was hard. I teared up, but I got through it. They were completely understanding. Not only that, but my supervisor also has experience with anxiety and panic attacks! So she told me to let her know if I needed anything at all.

Later on today, she came walking into my office area and startled me and apologized. I said it's okay, it wasn't a big deal and she insisted that she would be more aware of things! She also volunteered for us to do breathing exercises and meditations together if I got too anxious! I was working an intense spot at an orientation tomorrow, and she moved me to a position that would have less traffic and would feel safer (which I didn't ask for, but she insisted and I feel very relieved)!
So overall it went very well. My new office knows about my PTSD and panic disorder and everyone is being accommodating and understanding. 

Let me just say, since I've been working at my job EVERYONE has been loving and understanding. I have let my other secrets trickle out. "I am a vegetarian." My work has been super accommodating about that as well! "I am mixed race!" And they gush about how much they love my hair! Since I've been working here my anxiety has been way down! Nothing really triggers me at work. Here are the few things I have noticed about my work location:

1) Most of the rooms only have one exit. I keep going over emergency/escape plans in my head (fight, flight, or hide) and my brain cannot seem to feel really safe in many of these rooms. My office is also in the very back of the building. I literally either have to hide under my desk or break out through a window (a few stories high) and hope that the fall will be better than the enemy... Yeah, my brain is still trying to find a better solution but cannot.

2) I get scared out of my mind when someone sneaks up behind me, but I guess because they are new people to me, I try to contain the crazy as much as I can. So I jump in my skin and feel my heart rate pulse (and turn red!!) but I try my best not to scream at them. So... crazy is officially containable.

3) I've only cried once since I got to my new office (since July 15th) from something triggering. I've only had one mild panic attack (at work) since being here as well! Outside of work is still a different story...

I honestly believe this job is good for me. Slight pay and benefits cut, but the environment is healthy for me. If I can learn to control my symptoms, then I can survive almost any situation. This is a good training wheels for me to get over some of my anxiety. I just have to learn to feel safe in some of these no real exit rooms!!

Prolonged exposure at SDF

Thursday, June 29th, 2017. Almost 6 months since the incident. I was back at the airport.

It was on our calendar for a full week. I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to do or not, but I didn't feel scared or nervous waiting for the day to come. It was an eerie calm. I felt ready to tackle it and see how far I could push myself.

I think I need people to tell me to stop pushing myself too far too fast.

I grabbed Erich from work at 4PM. We were supposed to meet at SDF at 4:30. Naturally, on the drive, we started talking about if either of us were nervous, and our feelings about the whole thing. He started describing some things: "I am glad the baggage claim doesn't have carpet. I remember the carpet vividly and hope to never see it again!"

That's when I remembered. Vividly. That's when it all tried to come back to me, and I tried to stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop the intense pain in my chest and the blurriness of the road in front of me. Where did my breath go?

I proceeded to have one of the most intense and powerful panic attacks I've had in months. Luckily we made it to the parking lot in time for it.

Our FBI Victim's Specialist meet us there in the parking lot. She was right on time. I composed myself and we went in. I did warn her of the earlier panic. She is very professional and handled it perfectly. I was able to stop shaking within 10 minutes of our initial meeting. We went inside. Unfortunately, from the parking garage to the inside of the airport, you go up the stairs from underground. Up the stairs, to the baggage claim... Yeah, that happened. We immediately continued on up to the main lobby of the airport and was only in that area briefly. My heart started to pound but nothing more than I could handle. We were there, literally, only seconds.

So we walked around the main lobby. We found the meditation room; which I had no idea existed. We sat there. We calmed ourselves. We felt good. I checked in with Erich. He was ready to go. The VS checked with both of us, we were ready- to explore other parts of the airport!

We walked to the ticketing area. Sat there by the stairs leading down to baggage claim. I eyed everyone who walked by. I know that sounds rude but I did. I had to look at their bags, look at their pockets, look at their faces to reassure myself that nothing was off about that person. A few kids ran by, and the announcements made us jump, but our anxiety levels were around a 3/4 the entire time.

We walked to the Comfy Cow - a local ice cream chain that happens to be in the airport - and decided to distract ourselves with a cool treat. That brought us back down to a 1. We then made our way down the stairs to the Tourist Kiosk, knowing that the claim area was feet from us. We looked at our shoes. No carpet. Believe it or not, knowing I didn't have to see carpet there was a huge relief. I tricked myself into believing I could do it. 

With the encouragement of each other and our VS, we inched into the area. A loud bag slammed behind us and we inched a little faster, then found a good pace. My feet looked fine on the ground. I could see a loose thread hanging off my clothing. But where were Erich's feet? I looked over. I saw the chairs next to the baggage carousals. Our VS was asking what my level was. My vision blurred again. My voice left me. Was I a 5? Was I a 9? I tried to stutter out the words. She asked 3 times. "Fi-five? M-m-maybe 6?" I looked up to Erich, and then to the carousals. 10. I was at a 10.

I lost it.

It all came back. The gun. The shooter. The man in the brown shoes. The red on the carpet. The feeling I was going to die. 

We were in the area for 3 minutes, but who knows how long it really was. When you are faced with these things, time has no relevance or meaning. You are in the past, present, and future all at the same time. I collapsed outside near the passenger pickup lane. My body was shaking. I couldn't breathe. I have no idea what my thoughts were. I was dying. All over again. 

I was down, on the ground, not knowing what would come next, and not knowing how long it had been. Eventually I started gaining more control. Our VS and Erich had been talking to me. Reminding me that I was safe. I started focusing on their voices and I came back.

Unfortunately, the way back to the garage was the way we came. I knew I couldn't step foot in the airport again. Not that day. A security officer guided us around to a street area (which had NO WALKING signs all around). She gave us permission, plus being with the FBI helped too, so we were able to get by without stepping back inside.

We got home. My mom came over to fix my hair up for the first day at my new job (That Friday)! Then the fireworks started. From Thursday until... I believe they are still going on tonight, I'm sure. Cue panic attacks for the following nights. How I made it through the first day of work, I have no idea.

Its like a dance! One step at a time

Proof that when you take a step back, you find a new path to go forward on.

My step back? I started the new season of Twin Peaks this weekend. Halfway through episode one, there was bang/pow music through a creepy woods. My anxiety spiked and I tried to push through it even though I felt the panic rising. It ended at a small cabin when a man steps out with a shotgun. I. Lost. It. I screamed, cried, panicked. It was awful. We stopped watching the episode.

So, still dealing with the triggers. No matter how minor.

But! The step forward! I did the dishes! Remember last time I did the dishes? That didn't happen this time. This is the first day in months that I've been able to do the dishes. I didn't cry. I didn't panic. It was like normal! I am so happy with myself I feel like I can do anything!

So sometimes there are set backs, but you got to recognize the step forwards too!

Treat Yo Self

I used to deny myself many things. A specialty coffee in the morning, a new pair of shoes, new clothes, two desserts. I always told myself, there is something better to spend my money on. By better, I meant more practical. Like gas, bills, groceries, car repairs, etc. I had buyers remorse every time I bought something for myself.

After having a sudden, and violent, life or death experience (and seeing terrorist attacks all over the news this month) it really puts life in perspective, and just how instantly it can end at any moment.

Life is short. There is no guarantee that you will make it to age 90, and even if you did 90 years is still a short time. I still can't believe I made it this far. I am shocked that Erich and I were both alive to see him turn 30. It almost didn't happen!

Lately, I've been treating myself. I've been treating myself to new shoes, coffee, chai, or tea several days a week. I've been on edge of quitting my crappy job since I got back. Life is too short to have to worry about bad bosses. Life is too short to continue to wear shoes that are tattered and falling apart. Life is too short not to treat yo self to even the smallest things that make you happy.

For a few months, that's what I keep telling myself.
I should go get that thing I want because, I could die tomorrow.
I should get Erich a very expensive birthday gift because I want his moments here to be as happy as they can be.
I should treat my neighbor to dinner every once in a while.
I shouldn't turn down that invite to a small reunion party.
I should help my friends pay for groceries.
I should give that homeless guy money.

I should do everything I can to make the world a better place for friends, family, future generations, strangers and myself. This is a positive that has come from a negative. I am just getting there, but I will continue to live life to the fullest as best as I can. Now, I am sipping on a delicious Beekeeper Iceberg from Heine Brothers at 9:00 AM because I deserve it!

And you deserve it too.

My letter

It was one of the first steps to my therapy: writing this letter. I've written it so many times, and many early drafts were incoherent and consumed by survivor's guilt.

After meeting with our FBI Victim's specialist on Thursday, she informed me the family is not ready to receive letters... Probably never will be. I have accepted that. I am posting the last and final draft of my letter here.

I hope it doesn't seem cold. I truly felt this was the best way to get my feelings out, give her condolences, and not remind her too much of that day. This took me 3 months and 5 drafts to write.

Prolonged Exposure

Lately I've been practicing Prolonged Exposure Therapy. It's exactly what it sounds like: Exposing yourself to re-experience the traumatic event over and over until it's effect gets lesser and lesser. It's what veterans practice to cope with their PTSD and my psychiatrist believes it will help me.

It started with me writing about it. After I wrote about it, it took me weeks, maybe even a full month, before I could go back and read what I wrote. I then wrote about it again in more detail. I still have trouble reading it, but reading it helps me remember, and to never forget. 

Then I had to read it aloud. It caused a major emotional reaction from me reading it to my psychiatrist. It then caused me a very stressful, emotional week after reading it aloud. Then slowly I started talking about it. Answering questions people had, telling my friends in person or via Skype about my experience. Just slowly exposing myself, and accepting, what had happened. 

It worked for a bit, but I was still suffering from the most traumatic experience of the whole ordeal. The hardest part for me to write about, to think about, to say aloud... was the man next to me who died. Who took the last bullet, which was the only reason I am still here typing. Even now, I've slowed my typing and keep pausing after every word because that's the most traumatic experience for me. Not that my life was in danger, which was traumatic, but more traumatizing than that was how I feel and experience what happened to the man next to me. I have to move on or I will not make it through this entry.

After doing those assignments, we started the visualization process. Thinking about the airport and going into the baggage claim area. Thinking about the sounds, what I might see, what it might smell. Just immersing myself, mentally, into the event. And then what it would be like knowing that was an isolated incident: an ordinary average baggage claim area.

Now I am on the third step: Going to the airport. I've recently started my drive-by sessions. Eventually, I will have to park there and sit at the airport. Maybe stand outside or around it. Maybe go into a different part of the airport... But the goal is to make it to the baggage claim area. And do it again. And again. Until I can do it without it triggering me into a panic. Into a crying fit. Into a flashback... Until I can stand there and feel mostly normal.

Yesterday was my second attempt at a drive by. My first attempt, I was alone, went on my lunch break, and drove past the arrival area once and the departure area one. It took less than 10 minutes to do so. It made me slightly panicked (about a 3/10 on the anxiety scale). Yesterday, however, a friend drove me. And it was worse!!

This is my experience from yesterday:

My friend picked me up and we took off to the airport together. I felt my anxiety rise to about a 3/10 again on the anxiety scale, so the first time around I was about what I expected. She was good at distracting me and engaging me in conversations about ANYTHING else. But then we went around again... and my chest began to tighten. I saw so many people, vulnerable people, just standing there with their bags. The baggage claim area right in the window, the carousel bring bags around. My anxiety level raised to about a 4 or 5. 

I thought that was it. We could leave now. I wanted to leave so badly. But then we I saw the sign directing us back to arriving flights. I started clutching my chest. The pain was extreme. I started to tear up, I started to breathe more heavily. I wasn't in control of the car. I couldn't stop from going to that area again. I had no control. I felt trapped in a never ending loop. That we were going to keep going back over and over again, and then I would wake up and realize I am still on the floor at the airport. It was nerve wrecking.

What we did was almost a blur for me now. I know we also drove past departing flights, but I just can't remember if we alternated or what we did. I just know I had the biggest effect going to the arrival flights area.

Eventually, she dropped me back off at my car. I felt okay. She gave me a big long hug. I started to drive home, trying to make myself see my accomplishment for the day. I saw the carousal. I saw the bags. I remembered the event. I cried on the drive home. I cried at home. Erich held me until it was over.

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.

Erich at the lake 

Patoka Lake in Indiana

My niece Lilly

Enjoying the hot tub on a cool morning

It's Working!

Now for a positive entry!

The medicine has to be working! First thing I started to notice... My sense of humor has returned! I've been cracking jokes on people left and right. Also, could I be any more sarcastic? Seriously. My sarcasm is at an all time high. I am laughing again!! It feels great :)

Second thing I am noticing, noise are not bothering me as much as they should. I still recognize loud noises but unless it's very loud (a scream, a clap in my ear, fireworks) I don't really jump. Maybe still flinch and the occasional audible gasp, but I am not triggered into a panic attack (Yay)!

Another thing... My vocabulary and spelling is improving. THANK GOD. It was elementary!! I was confusing hear and here and her a little too much for my liking. Like the basic spelling of things so basic... It just wasn't working out for me. So some signs of brain function!

I haven't had a panic attack in a few days (minus the occasional early morning ones). But like, it's not disrupting my day or activity or anything. It's literally just in the wee hours of the morning (right now).

I am trying to get focused and start doing activities. For example, I would come home from work and then go straight to bed and lay there the rest of the night until I had to get up for work. Now I challenge myself to stay up. I started baking and making dinner again. Chores too! Just gotta keep pushing myself into a better routine, no matter if I don't feel like doing it or not.

I wont' talk about the negatives right now. I need to stay focused on the positives. My life isn't doom and gloom all the time. I need to remind myself of that. 

SHORT TERM GOALS:

I want to continue to bake.

I need to get out of the house at least 3 days a week, and go from there.

I need to start exorcising and watching what I eat again

Continue to write often and improve my vocabulary.

Find a new job!

Make it into the movie theater again.

LONG TERM GOALS:

Make it into the movie theater again. (Kendra told me to put this on the short term goals, but just in case...)

Challenge myself with something thrilling (roller-coaster? scary movie? something...)

Start reading books again! I have to get back into reading books! I miss them! This might be a short term goal... oh well, we'll see :)

VERY LONG TERM GOALS:
View an airport baggage claim.
Look at a gun.
Listen to gun shots or fireworks. 

He was a product of a flawed system

Today I am going to talk about him, and this will be the only mention of his name since it's hard to write: Esteban Santiago.

I've read up all that I could about him. The FBI is supposed to release more information to us as it comes but here is what I know and recall from what I read (it's so hard to reread this stuff).

He was a mentally ill veteran. He tried to get help one day. He turned himself in and he turned the gun over. He told them everything that was on his mind. He thought the government was controlling his thoughts and was trying to recruit him for Isis. He turned himself in and turned over his gun. He told them that he was going to hurt people, and he tried to prevent that. So he sought out help and gave them his gun! A few weeks later they said he was fine and gave him back his gun. He went on to board a plane to Fort Lauderdale with that gun.

So here is the thing. After all I'm going through, after all the other victims are going through, and after all the people he has hurt... I feel nothing but sadness and pity for him. Here is where I might get some flack for my thoughts but they are mine to have. He is a victim of a flawed system. A system that doesn't take care of the mentally ill. A system that doesn't take care of our veterans. A system that doesn't listen to those who need someone to listen to them. So many sick people in the world, so many wanting help but not being able to receive it. It's a shame.

I understand it better as now I am a part of the cycle. I have issues (obviously) and I am seeking help to overcome the issues I have. If these issues were to be untreated, who knows how that would affect me and those around me. Who knows what the human body is capable of when the human mind has gone untreated.

I couldn't sleep again last night. In my search to occupy my thoughts I stumbled upon a website called Goodbye Warden. It's the last words of death row inmates at a prison. The point of the project isn't to take a political stance but rather show the last thoughts of someone who is about to die. I stayed up and read at least 200 of the 540 entries. It really got me thinking about Him and all the other people on death row.

I won't get too political but there were several people who proclaimed their innocents until the end. There is an estimated 5% of the inmates are innocent. Innocent people who have been appealing the system for years trying to prove it and then having to die. I related heavily to them. I felt I was innocent and I was waiting to die, although I didn't have time to prepare a speech or find the peace that many of the inmates received, I still felt an odd sense of connection with each entry I read. Some were angry until the end, some were poetic, some were apologetic, some blame shifted, and many found religion and peace. I felt I had to read every entry but I had to stop eventually after a few intense ones.

Okay, on to the point...

I am looking to find purpose in the world. So many people have shoved "you survived for a reason" down my throat that I am actively trying to find that reason. As of now there are few things I am wanting to do to help fill that purpose. I want to help other victims like me: Survivors of trauma. Survivors of terrorist attacks. PTSD sufferers... I want to reach out and offer them any help and guidance I can. That, I think, is probably a given if you know me already. The thing that I didn't see coming is I want to reach out to death row inmates. It's weird, I know. Trust me, it caught me off guard when I thought it the first time as well.

I was a fence sitter on the death penalty. I saw both sides of the argument, and I still continue to see new emerging pros and cons of each side of the issue as well. The system is broken, and that is an absolute fact. From preventing crime to the punishment thereof. Fort Lauderdale could have been prevented. The shooter himself tried to prevent it. That's bad enough, but to think of the innocent people who are knowingly going to their deaths? That's a tough pill to swallow.

I feel like this urge to reach out to them is weird. Should have the opposite desire? I am not sure if I will feel the same tomorrow or the next day, but I feel it strongly now. To help people on both sides. To help them all feel at peace. This is where I am at currently. That site sparked something in me. However, many of them are also not innocent. They have done horrid things and have caused suffering. Do they deserve someone reaching out to them? I honestly don't know.

The shooter is not innocent. He committed the crime and that is a fact. His trial isn't until much later this year, but he is looking at the death penalty. If I am honest, I don't want to reach out to him. I have a curiosity of what he might say, but it would harm me more than I am willing to allow. I feel nothing but sadness for his life up to that point and nothing but pity for him now. I am not angry at him, although I feel I should be. His story is a tragedy. But the others that didn't personally impact my life... maybe they can find solace with me, and I with them.