How's it?

Well, I don’t really know at the moment… can that be my answer? I’m still suicidal, self harm helps with this, but I’m trying to not do that, I got close tonight but managed to abstain; I’m still psychotic, just not as bad; I’m still having flashbacks and body memories galore, every day, at least once a day; sleep is a crapshoot, it may happen, it may not, tonight it did not.

The PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) are really messing with me right now. I have been having a really hard time with memories of something that happened in September of 2000. These memories are causing a lot of problems, including crying spells, isolation, withdrawal, dissociation, self injury, and increasing suicidal thoughts. Basically, all of the signs of a severe episode of clinical depression. One that a psychiatrist would encourage possibly going back into the hospital to treat. Which is NOT going to happen.

I have school that I need to take care of. I cannot fall behind. Not this semester. I really have to make it through the semester this time. I cannot do the in-out crap again… I have got to stay out of the hospital.

It’s been almost 2 months now since I got out. The suicide attempt was on the 11th of December. I got out of the hospital on the 19th of December. Now, if I can just stay out… that is all I have to do.

The particular incident that is bothering me the most, that I am working on in IOP, is extremely traumatic. Even writing that sentence brought up enough thought of the event that I’m on the verge of tears already… The IOP that I am in is trauma focused, so everyone in the room is there because they have experienced something traumatic and are wanting to work on it and be able to better handle the memories when they come up.

When I was finally able to tell the group about the trauma that I am there for, the group was just quiet. I was fighting tears, I didn’t want to cry in front of people, not because it was IOP or them or anything, just because it was people. At some point in the course of the conversation, the group therapist started saying “it wasn’t your fault” repeatedly. Over and over and over. The first time she said it, I could feel the tears move higher up in my throat. The second time, I could feel them welling in my eyes. The third, I couldn’t fight it anymore. I started shaking with every breath, and I was balling my eyes out. I could hear that one of the other group members came over by me, and she put a tissue next to my hand. Then she asked if she could touch me… I nodded. She rubbed the back of my shoulder while I cried. I was glad she asked before touching me, that helped a lot. That was the main reason I said yes in the first place… because she asked permission, I felt like I could trust her. Honestly, at the time that I was crying, I couldn’t even tell which group member she was. All I had to go on was her voice, and I just couldn’t tell… it was only the end of my first week.

And now, at this very moment, my eyes are welling up, and I can feel the tears in my throat. I am trying to fight them, I don’t want to cry before I even get to IOP. I don’t want it to be that kind of day. I don’t want the day to start with crying. I don’t want to show up to IOP with puffy eyes, looking like I have been crying, before we have even started.

I haven’t slept. At all. I had a sleep study night before last, at the doctor’s office, and had to be there for part of the day so they could test me during several naps, a couple hours apart each. I was able to leave a little after 2 pm. They woke me up at about 6:30 am yesterday morning, and had me try to nap 3 times, but I don’t think I ever fell asleep during the naps, although I may have. So I have been awake since 6:30 am yesterday, with the possibility of a 30 minute nap. It is currently 7:42 am, so I have been awake over 24 hours already. Which means I am in an extra vulnerable state. I have class tonight as well, but I should be able to sleep a little between IOP and class. IOP is over at 1 pm and class starts at 6 pm, so sleep is a possibility. I was hoping to work on my speech class but then had insomnia. Oh, well…

But, really, I was going somewhere… where was I going with that train of thought?

I’ve just gotten to the point that the flashbacks and body memories are becoming too much. I can’t handle them anymore. I want them to stop, but the only way to really make them stop right away is to make me stop right away. Making them end means making me end. That is honestly where my head is at right now. My head is telling me suicide is the logical answer to getting away from reliving the event multiple times a day. (Don’t worry, I am being honest with the therapist at IOP. She knows that I am having suicidal thoughts and we check in about safety at the end of the day, every day.)

[Trigger][Description of Abuse]

I just cannot keep seeing the moment that *he* figures out that I’m pregnant, and the pure rage that comes over his face with the realization. He asks how far along I am. I tell him about 14 weeks, if I’m calculating right, and he gets even more furious which I didn’t think was possible. The fear I felt in that moment was absolutely daunting. I had never been that afraid of him during our entire relationship. During the flashbacks, I feel that fear, at that level, just like I am back in that moment, seeing the fury wash over his face… Next thing I know, I am on the ground and he is kicking me, aiming for my stomach. I do my best to stay in a ball and protect my child, but he keeps managing to get me out of the ball by grabbing my hair, kicking me in the back, or picking me up and throwing me onto the ground again. I didn’t know he was capable to lifting me. I mean, I wasn’t a tiny girl… at the time, I weighed around 185 lbs, maybe more. He jsut kept going and going for what felt like forever. I don’t know how long it really went on, I just know it seemed to go on for a really long time. After a couple of days, I started showing signs of a miscarriage. The symptoms kept getting worse as time went on and eventually I found myself just on my bed in the fetal position. My son eventually left my body, and the image of him is forever burned into my brain. He was so tiny, but he looked like a baby and he was a boy. I named him Michael and I cried for hours and buried him by myself. I hadn’t told anyone I was pregnant, because of the abuse and the fear of what would happen.

That is what I relive on a daily basis. The beating that caused me to lose my son, the sensations of the miscarriage itself and the images of my son once he was outside of my body. It’s torture.

[/Trigger]

Well, I need to get ready to go… I have to leave for IOP in a little bit and I’m not even dressed yet. Plus, I’m on the verge of tears again, and I need to find something to distract myself to keep me from all-out ugly-crying.

I hope y’all have a great day, and I will talk with you soon!

Typing without really thinking… hope it makes sense.

This is weird. I’m not used to this. It’s foreign.

There’s really nothing wrong… Every now and then, like once or twice a day, I’ll still have a flashback or body memory that will make me cry for a minute. But that is it. My mood isn’t horrible. The demons are there, but not awful. I have been having a few manic symptoms, but I’ve been responsible and have my mother holding on to the majority of my money for now. I’m still sober at the moment; I am having strong cravings but I have managed to not drink.

I’ve gained more insight into why I’ve been so suicidal for the last several months. And why the events of late led to me trying to take my own life, twice. I hope to eventually be able to post a blog about that, but I don’t think right now is that time. I’ve been working hard in therapy, PHP and with my individual therapist and psychiatrist. It’s draining. I often leave feeling raw and tired. I know, when I feel that way, the best thing for me is to not go home, however. I have tools that I could self harm with at home, and in that state, I am more likely to self harm, which I am actively trying to not do. I am counting the last suicide attempt as self harm, but I have not done anything to hurt myself since then, aside from some minor picking. (I have dermotillomania, which is a psychological condition that manifests as repetitive, compulsive skin picking. I also have trichotillomania, which is a mental disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other areas of your body, despite trying to stop. (Both descriptions were pulled from Google’s front page.) So I have a tendency to pick at things like scabs and such.) So, I haven’t self harmed since the 11th of December, the day that I attempted last. Well, that turned into a tangent real quick.

One, or actually two, things I wanted to talk about in this blog was a couple questions the PHP therapist brought up Thursday that really made me think.

Question 1: How will you know you are okay?

The answer I gave in group was when I’m not having flashbacks and body memories every day. When they are only happening once or twice a month or so… I feel like I am underestimating what “okay” can be, though. “Okay” could be no flashbacks/body memories, could be that I don’t have the trauma of my past creeping in and making me want to hurt myself in a myriad of ways, could be not feeling depression at all and feeling happiness, joy, optimism and excitement everyday. That, however, seems unreachable. It seems impossible. Even though my mood is better and I’m not really depressed like I was, I still have crying spells every day or every other day. I still think about what it would be like to not be here, on occasion. Thoughts of suicide creep in, stick around for a bit, and then leave, on a daily basis. There is no real want to die or be dead anymore. That is gone. At least for now. But my brain is not normal. My brain may never be normal. My brain may never be able to get rid of the obsession with death and dying. I may always have these thoughts. Because of the things that have happened to me… because of the things that come up from years ago that lead me to attempt suicide twice in the course of three months. For some reason, I feel like I will be okay when my depression is manageable, when the flashbacks and body memories are farther apart, when I’m able to simply stay out of the hospital and finish PHP and move into IOP (intensive outpatient), and when it’s not so hard to get out of the house and face people daily. To a mental health professional, that wouldn’t be considered okay. That would still be “having symptoms.” But to me, that is so much better than a month ago and even now. Why don’t I want something more than the bare minimum? Why must okay still be just okay instead of good or great? Is it that I think that is all I deserve, all I’m worth? This may require coming back to, later…

Question 2: Ask yourself… why are you feeling the way you are feeling?

Basically, when you are having an uncomfortable emotion, whatever it is, as why. What in you life, past or present, is causing you to feel this particular emotion at this particular time? There is always a reason we feel the way we do about certain things, and why different people feel differently about the same situation. Example… you and I are in line at the grocery store. The customer in front of us is upset about something and starts screaming, like all out screaming, at the cashier. Your reaction: look around for another employee or manager and make sure that someone is coming to help the cashier. My reaction: step back, shrink down a little, and become silent and not move. You became the protector, and I reacted like the victim. The difference between us… you never experienced any traumatic events in you life and I did. The screaming was not a trigger for you, like it was for me. That’s just an example, and a simple on at that. Usually, it’s more complex than that. Feelings are very complex. There are many reasons we feel the way we do, and often, we don’t take a step back to ask ourselves “why am I feeling this way?” “What in my past is contributing to me feeling this way?” Take the time, step back, and ask the question. Explore your feelings and emotions. Doing this will help you (and me) know and see more clearly what we need to work on with our treatment team or while we are journaling.

I hope these questions make you think, like they did me. I hope you take the time to explore some of these ideas yourself. And I hope to see you again, soon.

Best Quotes Encouragement Funny Faith 70+ Ideas

Found Here


 

I apologize for not writing sooner. The partial hospitalization program and school, together, have been kicking my butt. Those, plus other appointments getting squeezed in as best I can, I’ve barely had time to sleep, it seems. I want to write at least a couple times a week and I’ve been seriously failing at that. I need to get on the ball…

At the moment, I’m sitting on my front porch, enjoying a slight breeze, listening to rock ballads from my day.  That makes me sound old… I’m not old. I’m 36 years old. Call Me by Shinedown is currently playing. It played Skillet earlier, and Three Days Grace. So not really too old stuff, just not too current either. Back when music actually had meaning and wasn’t all about drugs and sex. Sure, some of it was, but even those songs were more than all drugs and sex. There was still a point to the lyrics.

The only bad part about sitting out here is the bugs. They are attracted to the porch light and the light from the screen of my laptop. And for some reason, tend to fly at my face… I wish there were a way to create a world without bugs. Not possible, I know… bugs serve a purpose. They all do something for the ecosystem in one way or another. Just getting rid of an entire species of insect could offset the balance in a way that we couldn’t even really understand yet.

I digress. I had a point I wanted to talk about when I started writing and music and bugs are not it.

So, let me get to my point…

The medicine seems to be working. I’m not depressed. I’m not psychotic. Well, I can kind of hear the demons talking but it’s so quiet that I can’t make out any of the words, and I’m not seeing them at all. So, I don’t count that as psychotic, compared to where I was. I’m past thinking that Satan is trying to influence me into killing myself.

My mood started getting better when the doctor added a mood stabilizer and then got even better when he changed one of my antidepressants. The only thing that worries me is that I have been itching for a week and a half, and that is about how long I have been on the new antidepressant. I’ve taken it before, a while back, and didn’t have a reaction to it then, so it’s possible I’m reacting to something else.

The nurse at PHP mentioned that my seasonal allergies could be making me itch, that that happens sometimes. I’ve also recently had to change laundry detergent, and that change could just now be catching up to me. The new one is still perfume- and dye-free, but I may just not be able to use that brand. We bought some of the kind that I used to get, but they stopped making it in powder, so we had to get liquid. I’ve never used liquid detergent, so here comes a bit of a learning curve. I have to do laundry tomorrow.

I haven’t been depressed for over a week and it feels good. I’ve only self-harmed once in the last 18 days. Which for me is amazing! I self-harmed on the 8th and then the 22nd. Thirteen days in between without a trip to the emergency room. One of the goals for my treatment plan for PHP was to go 2 weeks straight without needing to go to the emergency room for self-harm. The therapist was nervous about that one because he didn’t want the goal to prevent me from going if I needed to go. I was able to reassure him that I wouldn’t let it do that. As shone by going to the ER on the 13th day. I am still proud of those 13 days!

I guess I’m just worried that the psychiatrist is going to have to take me off the new antidepressant because of the itching, even though it is working really well. I really don’t want to have to change it to something else, that may not work as well, if at all. It’s so hard to find medications that work for me, and that keep working for a while. That’s part of the reason I lose hope a lot of the time. The meds never keep working for very long. Then finding a medication combination that does work is near impossible. When we finally do, it stops working after a while, too. I’ve always been like this. Treatment-resistant.

On top of all of that on my mind, I am slightly behind in my class. I have 2 little assignments and one larger assignment that need to be done by Tuesday. It’s okay if I haven’t finished all 3, but I really need to try.

And on that note, I’m going to call this blog done… thanks for reading and I hope to see you again!

And to top it all off…

I’ve been having some sharp pain in my shoulder for a while now. I had a few shots into the joint, but they didn’t last very long at all. The last shot I got lasted all of two days. I called the doctor’s office, and the nurse practitioner that I see regularly decided to send me for an MRI of my shoulder.

I managed to get that done two days later, on Friday. First off, I hate closed-in spaces. I start to panic. Somehow, I still managed to stay still even in the middle of a panic attack. I almost squeezed the little ball they gave me that would signal them to come and get me out. I tried controlling my breathing and just counting my breaths when I would start to panic. It didn’t completely fix it, but it did make it manageable. That is all I could ask for at the time, really.

The appointment for the MRI was the last one on Friday; 4:30 pm. I was actually surprised when I got a call midday yesterday, from the doctor’s office. The nurse on the phone relayed that I have a possible tear in the glenoid labrum of my right shoulder. They are referring me to an orthopedist. Usually, when they refer out, it means you need surgery… I really hope I don’t. I really, really hope I don’t. I saw my mom go through a shoulder replacement, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I don’t know if I would even have surgery if they told me I needed it. That’s how much I don’t want to have shoulder surgery. Only having the use of one arm is not fun. I saw it with my mother. You are practically useless. Can’t get dressed, can’t prepare food or carry anything really, can’t pull up your own pants after using the restroom. It would be utterly humiliating having to have someone help me do everything. And I do mean everything.

I just have to make an appointment with the orthopedist, and see what they say. I also have a back up one, for a second opinion, if I need it.

With this, on top of everything else going on, I am so ready to just give up. I’m totally surprised I made it through the night without hurting myself. I didn’t sleep. The demons were too loud and I just couldn’t shut my brain off. Might have a little bit of mania or a mixed episode sneaking in there with the depression and psychosis. Satan wants me to kill myself and is using my demons to try to get me to do it. He is telling them what to say and do, and implanting images that are more than disturbing. I’m stronger than that, at least right now. I can withstand the onslaught that the evil forces are throwing at me. If it gets to the point that I can’t, I will go to the hospital. But I need to stay out of the hospital. I need to be able to go to and participate in class. It’s important that I be there. I’ve skipped one day because I was having a really hard day. I am tempted to skip today. I’m exhausted from not sleeping last night, and I have to go to HEB at some point today as well. Mom needs sodas, as well as a card and gift card for a friend. I just don’t know what I would tell mom for why I’m home early, or the excuse I would give the professor.

I’m just getting overwhelmed…

Thanks for reading and I hope to see you again soon!

Loud Inside my Head

_Muito alto_

Found Here


It is really loud to me right now. The demons are coming at me full force. Probably from lack of sleep. I didn’t sleep last night at all and only got a 5-hour nap in during the day. They tend to get louder when I’m really tired or really stressed. What’s the most annoying, however, is I’m not really sleepy. Tired, yes, but sleepy, no. I’m going to attempt to sleep when I’m done writing this blog. Hopefully, my medication will do its job and knock me out. Some nights, my insomnia is so bad that even Trazadone, Thorazine, and Benadryl aren’t enough to put me to sleep.

The main thing I wanted to write about before I forgot, is that I realized earlier today that Homecoming Games for high school football are coming up. That may mean nothing to most of you, but to me, it indicates the end of the summer and the end of a traumatic period in my life. I was in an abusive relationship years ago, and the guy broke up with me (I was too terrified to leave him) at the Homecoming Game. I always regret not warning the next girl, the one he left me for, about him. I don’t know if he treated her the same way, one can only assume he did… She was young and naive. We were seniors and she was a freshman. I wanted to protect her, but this guy still scared me, and does to this day, if I’m honest. He abused me in every way imaginable, which I will not go into for the sake of not triggering anyone. I really thought he was going to kill me one day. Maybe accidentally, but do it just the same. I got pregnant by him and because of the abuse, miscarried at 12 weeks. I would like to say it was for the better, but some days even I have a hard time believing that.

When I see the mums and feel the weather start to turn, it almost unconsciously cues my brain to stop being depressed. However, it does get worse before it gets better. These cues always cause some deterioration in the beginning, but then the trajectory starts to head up and out of the hole. I’ve been in this hole since April… that is when it starts. Because that is when the relationship started.

Now, I just need to manage to stay out of the hospital long enough to make it out to the other side. I am almost there. I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s dim, but it is there. I’ve gotten close, really close, to needing to go back to the hospital. A week ago, I had been to the emergency room 3 times in the past week. I haven’t self-harmed in a week, at this point. The urges are really strong right now, which is another reason I need to try to sleep. If I sleep, I can sleep through the urge and not sit with it all night. If I have to sit with this all night, I’m not going to make it through the night without self-harming. If I don’t sleep, it will happen.

The demons are loud, the self-harm urges are loud, the suicidal thoughts are loud… it’s just loud right now. And I don’t really know anything else to do than try to sleep. I’m not entirely optimistic about attempting it, but I have to at least try. If I end up seeing the psychiatrist at PHP tomorrow, and I haven’t slept again, I don’t know what he will want to do. I saw him on Monday last week, but that was my first week in PHP and the doctor has to see you on your first day usually. I’m not sure if he will be there tomorrow or not.

It’s nearly 1:30 am now, and I’m still not really sleepy. I’ve gotten 5 hours of sleep in the last 40 hours. I need to at least rest. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I hate it when my brain does this. I hate it when I can’t sleep.

All I want is to be like a normal person. With everything going on with me lately, I feel like I’m poised on the edge of a precipice. One minor breeze will send me over the edge. But I can’t turn back either. I have to find a way across the gaping canyon. And the more and more I look at the canyon and the beauty on the other side, the more I am convinced I can fly. Even though I logically know that no normal person can fly. I feel like I’ve gone past the point of no return, and the choices are fly or fall, turning back is not an option and there isn’t a bridge in sight.

The meds aren’t working, I can’t sleep, I’m depressed and suicidal, I am hearing and seeing the demons and they are louder and more active than they have been, I’m dissociating and going catatonic… the list could go on.

One of my friends mentioned earlier today that I’m maintaining and not going off the deep end. I just need to remember that maintaining is not bad, in and of itself. Sometimes, it is all we can manage.

Thanks for coming by and reading, hope to see you again!