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A bit exhausted

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Rivers

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I am in my late 40s with a wonderful, full, interesting life and rich relationships and quite a few children ranging in age from 5-17. I also have a confusing family of origin background and a few too many ACEs.

Once I left for college life started looking up and I was able to find ways to reorient myself. It worked for the most part, but part of that was tightly compartmentalizing parts of myself that are typically only triggered by my mother or anything any experience related to her. I've spent my life helping her manage her own internal life at the expense of mine, or at least part of mine.

In the last year and a half that approach started to unravel bit by bit after my step father died. This past summer there was a dramatic shift and my defens a and compartments shattered. I was left with every PTSD symptom possible but thankfully still able to manage the basics and still write reports, show up to court, take classes, look after children, etc.

Sleep wasn't part of the deal, unfortunately. Nightmares were horrendous, panic and everything that went with it. Floods of memories and flashbacks to where it felt like decades were happening all at once. Nothing felt real, everything felt distant. I could shake it off if I was deeply involved in complicated, very present situations and the life puzzles of other people. I tried SNRI, SSRI, Seratonin modulators. They all made things worse and made me sick even at low doses. Spravato was out of reach because there's a requirement of a simultaneous antidepressant and I was too scared to try another one.

Finally ended up jumping into Ketamine infusions and the nightmares stopped immediately. The derealization largely stopped, I can eat without forcing myself, I enjoy my kids, day to I have little to no anxiety, I've been excited to host family friends again, spend time with friends. It's AMAZING.

However, I'm heartbroken about part of my life history, completely triggered by some rather bizarre experiences, involuntarily shut down related to certain topics. I feel like I have two operating systems. For a while the wrong one completely took over. Now both are more balanced but the heartbroken one is still refusing to recede and I don't know how to heal that part of me. I'm grateful for a good therapist, but it's exhausting. I'm exhausted.
 
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However, I'm heartbroken about part of my life history, completely triggered by some rather bizarre experiences, involuntarily shut down related to certain topics. I feel like I have two operating systems. For a while the wrong one completely took over. Now both are more balanced but the heartbroken one is still refusing to recede and I don't know how to heal that part of me. I'm grateful for a good therapist, but it's exhausting. I'm exhausted.
Trying to live 2 lives at the same time IS exhausting. Full stop.

I tend to call it “worlds collide” when my past starts overlaying itself on top of my present.

Both past & present registering AS present, means I have to be doing anything/everything “manually”, instead of able to rely on & trust my own situational awareness/thoughts/feelings/actions & judgment/instincts, happening effortlessly in the background, adapting gracefully to whatever situation is at hand.

it is a mentally/emotionally/physically EXHAUSTING slog. From hypervig meaning I have to manually assess & dismiss every person/place/thing/situation in my sight/hearing; to anxiety screaming at me that one does NOT fold laundry whilst the house is on fire! (The house is not on fire, it’s just all my instincts reacting AS IF the house in on fire, so the easy thing would be to grab my loved ones and run, every second staying & acting normal is like climbing Everest); to, to, to, to.
 
hello rivers. welcome to the forum. sorry for what brings you here, but glad you are here. decades after a similar house of cards collapsed over my own head, i find myself grateful for that discomfort. it forced me to drop the pretenses and get to know and develop a more open and honest version of myself. i love life and myself with far more gusto these days. pain always seems less in the past tense, but i honestly don't believe the me i was pretending to be could have enjoyed 70 as much as the me i came to be.
I'm heartbroken about part of my life history
part of my own recovery is plying grief therapy to this unfortunate fact of my life. actively grieving the me i will never be, the betrayals from the people genetically engineered to protect me, the basic civil rights that were unavailable to me, etc., etc., made considerable room for the therapy measures i needed to deal with the psychic fallout of a traumatic childhood. grief is a mysterious process and i still find myself feeling this particular grief from time to time. sigh. . . always something, huh? with gentle care, each round seems to pass more quickly than the last.

but that is me and every case is unique. . .

steadying support while you sort your own case. welcome aboard.
 
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