It's hard to explain, but I'll try:
Whenever I try to share my story with others, or at least the piece...
Today was the first time someone listened or believed me, while the trauma? I have only happened in the past seven months it was such a relief. See introductory post. I knew I was having what I call a meltdown (living by TMI appropriate) fueled by the prescription and the loss of one of the few people who I thought would help me thru this maze of bullshit. I talked to friends, family, family doctors, shrinks and lawyers, no one would believe me.
Called my shrink begging him to do something about med he put me on. he said what med? (he was half asleep when I told him my problems) and today after being up since 2:30am EDT after a horrendous nightmare woke me I reached out to a therapist who I had an appointment with three weeks in the future. and they took me in today.
I spilled my guts every heart wrenching detail just spilled too them, everything. Every f---ing detail the trauma(s), the drugs given, the reactions the nightmares, the flashbacks, thoughts of suicide, just spilled my guts to them, every fact that no one would believe or listen too. And went overtime and was finally diagnosed. PTSD when everyone said stress and anxiety you can get over it with a benzo. Thanks Anne! You are more worried about the person than the money.
Tomorrow the sleepy shrink who would only give me a vague GAD or PTSD diagnoses, I have to look it up and push buckets of gabapentin at me. Well guess what Doc you have to wean me off the med you have been giving me, and I am going to ??????&????? and dump you like a bad penny.
I guess I am lucky that someone with empathy for their patients was found so quickly in my case, but I will not tell or talk to anyone else about this hell.