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Tough Week

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desiderata310

MyPTSD Pro
Not sure if this belongs here but I'm not sure where else it would go...

It's been a bit since I last posted. Freaked out because of the potential from filing for a restraining order, the idea what S might find and link this site to me, tons of other things so I shut down.

Filing was not really hard and no one said anything nasty to me as I had expected. Took it to work and informed my boss and asked that it be kept quiet. He was kind of an idiot about it but eventually (after me freaking out about him telling EVERYONE) it worked out.

Started feeling a little hopeful, had a great start to the week, had a good appointment early in the week. Talked about non-triggering things like my anger problems and how they related to my PTSD (oh well, actually I *AM* triggered when I start yelling at people. It's still PTSD related just didn't know it.)Then Thursday happened. It was a mixed bag of sorts.

Wednesday had been hell on wheels: 3 am wake up call from my brain with a nightmare, I was finally up and moving at 4 and out the door at 5am for a run which put me in better spirits.

The load in was manic and busy as I was down rigging for the first time and the rest of the day was trashed with work and troubleshooting. By the time load out was over I was exhausted and ready for sleep.

Sleep wasn't my friend Thursday morning, however and at 6 am I was awake, with only 3 hours sleep under my belt again and found an email from S. It's not content so much as the fact that the email is there that sets me off. I went from ok and just tired to suicidal in moments.

Two hours later a slightly less suicidal me managed to make it to work, do a couple of things and head out to what turns out to be the best thing that happened all week: being ok'd for my medical marijuana card. Hooked up with a delivery service, got my medication. Yes, medication. The whole thing has a different feel from getting high for fun. There were brownies, cookies, honey, etc, that I purchased and when I tried them, they tasted medicinal. It's not fun. It's medicine. I don't know what else to say about that.

Friday I had my second appointment. I don't honestly know who was more disappointed in me: my therapist or me for going back to the suicidal ideation. Talked a bit about my 0-90 reaction to S's emails. (not the content the fact that I get them at all) No real clear way to deal with this other than my therapist made it clear: I need to call him if I think I am going to harm myself. I haven't done that yet and quite frankly, I don't think I am ever thinking that clearly to make that determination in those moments. Which scares me. He said it was still "trauma". I guess he's saying that the trauma is still happening because of the emails? I'm not sure.

Talked a bit about my reaction to the guy I was supposed to go out with. My sudden crying bout. My crying about it in therapy. I kept saying I was ok with being alone. Was I really? If so why was I crying? Yes, I think I am ok with it. I can't stand the idea of being in a relationship. Being that vulnerable to one person again. He kept saying it was my choice. Just like the suicide I was contemplating on Thursday. I know it's my choice. It doesn't soften the blow. I AM lonely but I can't even consider being close to someone. This is all new: I was intimate last year and that was ok, now? I can't shake hands with people. Never mind going on dates.

Last night…

My middle kid had gone out to an event and I was grumpily futzing on the computer trying to find a way to watch the Grizzlies for free on line when he walked back in- much earlier than expected. He had a pensive look on his face. Told me that his sister had informed him that my oldest son R had tried to kill himself. I must have had a horribly shocked look on my face. He kept asking me if I needed a drink or anything. I refused. I didn't want to start drinking. It puts me in a bad place and I can't really take my other medication if I do.

I started texting people for information: C, my daughter, was just irritable. She was clear: she didn't care and thought that her brother was being dramatic. I am furious with her- but that is another topic for another day.

My ex wasn't answering text messages.

I finally got hold of R's girlfriend who didn't know until I told her. She went to the hospital and got information for me. She stayed the night with him. R and I texted back and forth early this morning on her phone till they took him to the psychiatric hospital. The conversation sounded like me so much. Kept apologizing. He still felt hopeless and I could hear it in the tone of his texts.

"It's ok, boo. This is like your broken leg. It hurts. It will suck for a while. It will get better."
"I hope so"
*gulp*

It's hard to be on the other side when you know the desperation and pain. I want to make it better. I want to take it all away. I know that he wants to feel better but it seems impossible. I know that desire to give up and I truly empathize. And I SELFISHLY don't want him to die. and… it's all so confusing. I used to believe and still do to some extent, that you should be allowed to make that decision about your own death. For a long time in the past I was an alt.holiday.suicide member but I moved past it after a long bout with depression about a decade ago. I only recently found myself occasionally haunting those boards again. I know when I get to those places where I am looking at that again, I've shut down from the world and the likelihood of me following through and succeeding this time is magnified.

I don't want that for my son. I don't. But if it happened, I would understand. I get what that pain is like. I know that sometimes no one and nothing can take it away.

It doesn't stop me from hoping for him.
It doesn't stop me from encouraging him.
It doesn't stop my own suicidal ideation.
I know it's in direct conflict.

Texted my therapist last night to tell him. After making certain that R was ok he asked if I was ok.

"I don't know. Not really"
I don't know how I feel.

I feel selfish. I feel powerless. I feel like a terrible mother. He's 20 and I know- I'm sure that much of his problems have their roots in things that happened because of decisions I made (his step dad for instance)

I should go run today.
 
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