I Am Scared Of What Will Happen

[Wounded Scribe]

Thursday, I start I guess it's called trauma therapy. I have a team, working me over at this time. The trauma therapist, is the newest member of my team.

To be frank, I am terrified. I have no idea what's different about sitting down with a trauma therapist who's specialty is PTSD compared to a therapist who works with a variety of hurts. Yesterday, during my med check the Nurse Practitioner in anticipation to Thursday's appointment said, "It get's worse, before it get's better..." Say what? I remember some gnarly stuff already, it's the stuff I can't remember I worry about. Every now and then, I catch a whiff of the stuff I've censored. I think some of the issues I have censored and protect with my life: I worry they are going to unlock the memory of invasive, violent surgical stuff required to save my life. I don't remember for example, how long I laid still before crawling for help. I don't remember how long I laid before anyone found me, or the 30 minutes after someone found me and the ambulance came. I remember the 25 minute trip to the hospital was agonizing 60 minutes leading up to the fateful moment. I also, for whatever reason, seem to have made a very strong effort to block out the hours leading up to the end moment that afternoon. I know, the day's smells, colors, and sounds were different, more vibrant but I know it was emotionally disturbing to wake up on the day; I knew I was going to be dead within 8 hours.

I put this stuff away, for a reason. I know in order to live and be sane, living beyond something, I wasn't supposed to survive, I found coping mechanisims and life has removed those from under my feet leaving me the raw emotion. We are hard wired, to protect our life with a savage will to fight, once it's pressed into a corner. We'd be surprised how hard we can fight when our life is threatened. There's no conscious thought, it just takes over. Yet, in therapy, if I am understanding correctly, exposure, is to expose myself to something, I'd fight a 100 people to protect my life? To a threat, that's no longer there? That emotional drain, is wrecking my life...

 

[Ghostybear73]

Unfortunately, it is true. It does get worse before it gets better and considering how tight you seem to have screwed the lid on your trauma, it will get quite a bit worse. Not trying to scare you, just want you to be prepared.

You have to process the past to get on with the future without the PTSD treating you apart. Up until now it looks like they have been using a bandaid, which won't help to the the major wound of your trauma.

It has to be opened up so it can heal inside out.

Hopefully you have some grounding techniques to help and of course this forum and the people on it have always been a great form of support for me.

Take care

 

[Sandstone]

No words of wisdom here, but support and empathy. I understand the need to put stuff away in order to stay alive and sane. I know how much energy that takes , and I believe you can apply that same energy to your therapy and to processing.

 

[KwanYingirl]

PTSD is at the least an anxiety disorder. Like the limbic system is on overdrive getting us primed for a repeat performance. For me it was trauma over a long period of my childhood then a break from it then life threatening single events in my 20s then a break then a massive chemical exposure at work in my 40s. That's when I finally and completely had a nervous breakdown. As if reality wasnt bad enough, I was reliving every memory while knowing it was really only the tip of the iceberg.

It has taken years of therapy to stay alive. It did get worse but I was down, the only way to go was up. Keep your appointments even if you're talking yourself out of it. The worry and anticipation of flashbacks takes enormous resources to cope. I'm glad to hear that you have a team of healers helping you. This site has helped me challenge my isolation, I really thought it was the only way to stay alive-hiding from the world.

It does get better. When you work on it in a healthy way it heals. When you employ maladaptive coping mechanisms it gets worse. And it takes time, time, time.

 

[Deleted member 28403]

"When the Pandora's Box was opened, only hope was left, laying in the corner."

 

[Wounded Scribe]

I am afraid, of dying again, and I don't mean that metaphorically. Quit literally. I was trying to wash dishes and trying to get the pharmacy to work with my insurance on a new medication, and I saw my coat sleeve wiping my eyes and nose, though I am wearing a sweat shirt. I have, categorized, memorized every nuance of what I can remember, the coat sleeve, wiping my eyes and nose, it's a new one. I feel winter blowing inside of me.

I appreciate the feedback, and heads up on what to expect with this, it's very much appreciated. I am not ashamed to say, I am afraid. I don't want to pretend I am strong. That coat sleeve I saw while trying to wash dishes and manage the pharmacy belonged to a terrified child, prepared to do something he wasn't prepared to unleash on his life, to escape people who were hurting him, people, he loved and were supposed to protect, and love in kind.

 

[Deleted member 1860]

I honestly don't think you'd be able to find anyone here who started therapy and everything got better without getting worse. (And if you did, I'd call that person a liar and a fraud because processing is incredibly hard.) But, you can get through this. Right now I'm guessing that you're holding it all together with scotch tape that's peeling back at the edges. Once you go through therapy those memories won't be able to hurt you anymore. (I speak from experience being on the other side of processing, yes it can happen!)

 

[Seagreen]

It gets worse before it gets better but its worth it. Working with someone specially trained in Ptsd makes a world of difference. Youll need to have a plan in place to fall on. Being prepaired with a list of self care activities and a small project so you have something else to focus on, as treatment can be very dominating on the mind sometimes. Something self paced and enjoyable. If you like to build things make a garden bench or work on improving your photography etc. Whatever suits you. Make a list of comforting things that you can do if you become overwhelmed. I lay in bed and cover my head with blankets until i feel calm. You might prefer exercise or watching tv ect.. write a letter to yourself now and include some goals for your recovery. Reread it in 6 months to see how far youve come. There is a website that sends out an email of your pre-recorded letter after a set period of time. its great! Come to this forum for support and encouragement whenever you want. Forgive yourself for having a bad day or making a poor decision. Sometimes its ok to just get through the day. What is important is that you are working on improvement over the long term. You are strong because you survived your trauma. You are doing the right thing seeking help for yourself. Your life is important and you deserve to heal so you can fill it with happiness and love. We cant control everything that happens to us but we have a lot of say in what we do with the time we have on this earth. Wishing you peace and healing for your journey.

 

[joeylittle]

I put this stuff away, for a reason. I know in order to live and be sane, living beyond something, I wasn't supposed to survive, I found coping mechanisims and life has removed those from under my feet leaving me the raw emotion.

This rings so true for me. I put away my trauma, by myself, for over 20 years. And then it wouldn't stay down anymore. The process of doing therapy on it actually incited my PTSD, and life went from a darkness I was used to into a whole new hell, to be honest. I had no idea it would be this hard. Immediately lots of intrusive memories, flashbacks, crazy hypervigilance, anxiety issues I never had before...now, being about 1/2 way through processing the actual trauma in therapy, things are more manageable - I got better at handling things, but also, the memories are losing their power.

But like you - I didn't know exactly how much I knew, if that makes sense. And I discovered I knew a lot. I remembered a lot. And it was horrible at first. But the gains are worth it.

 

[Wounded Scribe]

@joeylittle spot on, about not knowing, how much we know/not know. I know, I have body memories, with no memory of how I earned this sensation or understanding. I have a very vague recollection of a moment when conscious thought said to me, "You don't need to see anymore, and the curtains are going to close over this moment because...you don't need to know."

So I get discharged from the hospital. And I make every attempt to assimilate into the village. I want to hide this. The curtains are still closed. The symptoms of PTSD appear about a month later. The nightmares, avoidance, phantom sensory, numbing, detached etc...But I know, that curtain dropped for a reason.

In 2011 I'm sitting in therapy. Marriage counseling, garden variety therapist...she worked with folks who attended our church and had a practice. Lots of teen issues, marriage counseling. I sit down with her and we start chatting. She says, "You're screaming PTSD." I was like, "No. I'm fine. Really. It happened, a long time ago." <That curtain is closed> Well, she wants to start having a peek under that curtain, my anxiety shoots through the roof. I start bailing on therapy. I get angry, I mean, I went for Marriage Counseling. I want this lady to get my spouse to stop nagging me at every turn in the road, kind of stuff. We don't need to dive into that bloody, violent night. Or the animal that raised me and beat me until I bled. Or the adults that looked the other way and watched my life go down the drain and left me to die.

I didn't understand why, we needed to go and tinkering around with that monster. Let it sleep behind the curtain, don't bring it out. No, I am terrified of that monster, doesn't she understand? It ripped me to pieces before I could learn to drive a car or kiss a girl?

I felt it slipping. I felt that curtain starting to rise. She explained to me, "Wounded Scribe, PTSD manages your life. It sets the tempo for your life. Not you, it does. So, you are going, and will continue to make choices that aren't in your families best interest, but what serves to protect the PTSD. Never mind those rage filled outburst. Wild swings in depression, intrusive thoughts, hyper vigilance"

So, here I am. Contemplating this therapy beginning: My mouth is dry. Body aches from the wounds. Different flashbacks. I've been short with my wife and kids. I start on a new medication this evening, my insurance decided to play nice and approved it. Yesterday they said, "No." My Nurse Practitioner and her wonderful office stepped up and got the authorization for me.

@Seagreen @Solara thank you so much for your input, I've read everything, and I will re-read them again in the coming days.

 

[Wounded Scribe]

God. I don't know how I'm going to do this. Can they appreciate, what happened? I mean, really appreciate it and not just gloss over it. My little brother, found my near lifeless body, and was exposed by my near corpse like state for a brief moment, and he continues to have nightmares, over 25 years later from seeing something for no more than 60 seconds.

Looking at my memories, I always felt, here over the last 2 years, the seal of approval, would be the weather. As I examine the snapshot of the memory photo, and consider the background imagery, the sky appears overcast, and above all, it appears to be on the warm side. The shooting, happened near the end of January.

There are times I see the moment with a clear sky backdrop. Blue, to orange as the sun sets low in the western horizon.

Preparing for this, I thought, why not go on line, and find a historic almanac and look up what the weather was like 28 years ago, on that day.

Sure enough, the day was dreary and on the warm side (55F) the moment I fired that rifle into me, the sky was overcast.

...when I saw that data entry, my scar tissue knotted up and it hurt really bad. I saw the grey sky looking down at me through the clearing in the trees, just as I always have and this time, I know it's valid. The small details, are there, and those small details may lead to larger images that may border on insanity because the things I see, are the things people see as they die and rarely live to speak about.

I tucked my kids in tonight. I told them an extra half dozen times how blessed I am they allow me to be their daddy. I appreciate they don't know what it's like to have a monster for a father. And with that, I swallow the handful of pills prescribed for this, caused by my childhood, and head to bed to relive this in my nightmares.