Sufferer I'm Really Lost. PTSD, Depression, GAD, struggling with work and return to school

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So... it wasn't until the end of August this year that I finally caved and decided I needed help. That something was very wrong. That I had only been getting worse as years went by. I don't know how long I've struggled with what pieces-- but the psyche evaluation ended in a diagnosis that was more thorough than just... "bad depression." Where I thought there had only been one thing throwing off my clock, there had actually been three.
Surprise. I'm here. Guess what one of those three was. I knew I struggled with Major Depression as it's haunted me for most of my life. Really for as long as I can remember. What I didn't know I was fighting had been the PTSD and the Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I booked another set of appointments because I don't even know where to begin trying to fix myself and I know I need guidance. Here's October-- and I'm going to be able to see them again on the 14th, Monday-- with that other appointment booked on the 25th.

Here's where I vent.
I went to college for about two and a half years after graduating high school. High school was rough on its own but I lucked out in some areas and met the right people who helped me get help for that Depression I mentioned. I'm from a town that just barely does a decent job with its health providers. Barely. One of the doctors I saw within the past year insisted I come off or lessen the dosage of the Sertraline prescribed to me by an outside therapist whose office was well over an hour outside of my town. I went to him to check up on a soar throat/migraines. He didn't really look me over and told me that I'd be fine after taking bloodwork that I never got the results for. I trusted him (like a dummy), two weeks passed, things only got worse. Ended up going to another doctor. She tells me it was strep but it had developed into a worse bacterial infection that had climbed its way to my ears. Had I waited any longer, she told me, I would have had permanent hearing damage. All this time, I had pressed through work as a contractor in a medical warehouse. There wasn't a lot of compassion when I needed to take off for about a week or so. Whatever. I mentioned this because it's relevant. There aren't a lot of places around here that believe in mental illnesses or treatments, so that's fun. For years, my depression and lack of interest was my own fault-- it was "seasonal" even in summer. It was because I was young. It was because I didn't bake myself in the sun long enough. Even now, I had to go to an entire city over for that evaluation I mentioned. Places around there stay busy. No doubt on the count of surrounding areas, not doing as well, flooding into wherever people can be seen and heard. And I think the mindset of my town has kind of aided to instill this... unwillingness to ask for help until I absolutely need it or it's too late. I can't blame what surrounds me, though. It's just hard.

I took a break from school because I felt overwhelmed and confused. Scared all of the time for seemingly no reason. I worried about everything I could possibly worry about. My body ached for days on end when it was bad. I wanted to sleep entire days. One day, I woke up and I couldn't get my tears to stop. I think it was frustration with myself. I stay pretty frustrated with myself. I remembered that I dragged myself out of my bed and dorm to go buy a coffee or tea or something. When I was standing in line, I tried to be unnoticeable by staring at the floor. These weren't wracking sobs. Just. Tears. I didn't make eye-contact as I ordered. Sometimes I'd glance up and see someone looking. Only would make it worse. I sat down outside by myself and slowly drank my tea/whatever it was. I put my head down. This unlucky older man comes and taps on my shoulder to ask me for directions to a building and he looks so shocked, apologizes, tells me he'll ask someone else.
But I insist I'm okay even as I'm crying, haha. And I tell him how to get there. After that, I got up and moved around. I was waiting on a friend who was much older than I was. She eventually got there and we drove around in her car and talked. I can't remember which year it was in college. I think it was perhaps the end of the first year. Maybe the second.

I've had a lot of jobs during my (much longer than I had anticipated and wanted) break from school. I managed to save up and this year, I tried going back. This was before the diagnosis, mind you. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what. I don't do well around people. I still don't do well around people with ones that I know or I'm close with.
It's gotten a lot worse since what I consider was the beginning. In the past few months, it feels like my life is falling apart. I don't know my place in the world. I don't know where to begin. I don't know how to keep going. I've thought a lot about suicide (pretty much a daily thing, now) and lately I've not been able to get a lot of rest. I wake up in sweat. I know I'm having dreams or nightmares. I usually remember, but most of these I haven't been able to. It's getting harder to convince myself to do things I know will be good for me or that I know I must do to be able to continue living. I'm afraid to leave my house. I'm afraid to go shopping. Afraid to go anywhere. So my brain does this bastard thing and convinces me that it will be okay to go back to sleep or that people will understand. I need time that I don't have-- and I don't have it probably because I kept convincing myself I was fine up until this point.
I've considered checking myself into a facility or something-- but that's not a good decision for many reasons. I don't have insurance or the finances to be able to stay for treatment. My usual forms of escapism haven't been great at distracting me because I can't stop thinking. I mean I guess the things I like to do in my spare time require a lot of it. Writing and drawing and painting. I sing, but I don't think very much when I do. Maybe I should sing more.

Monday is soon and I keep telling myself that. The last time I was there, I asked them if a service animal might help. I don't know if it would. I love animals, but a service dog/animal isn't so much a pet as it is a partner or guardian. I also worry that I'll have even more trouble trying to find work with one. But is that worth it if it means I can feel at least a little reassured? I'm so tired of being tired.
I want to finish school so that I can at least have a degree to my name. Not that it will guarantee me success in life. I guess that's not happening just yet.


I need advice or. Pointers. Something. Anything at all, actually. Just please talk to me.
I've had this tab open on my computer all day but I kept putting it off because I was worried that I'd just come off as whiny or ungrateful or. Just. Stupid? Lazy.
Yeah I don't have a good image of myself at this point in time.
 
Hello @ForgetfulKnight - welcome :hug:

I hope you get to that appointment. Whatever happens just please make it your mission to get there.

I've read your whole post and you are not whining or ungrateful. Nor stupid or lazy. So forget those words and move on.

This place has a lot of different areas to explore and a wealth of information about depression, anxiety and ptsd. As well, there is a forum on other disorders. So you are not alone. Many, many of us have similar or different stories. Many different paths lead to the circumstances you find yourself in right now. Have a good look around and start threads or add your perspective.

You will be listened to and respected here.

Your post is full of self-recrimination about the 'shoulds' and the word should is very blamey and guilty by nature. So write that word out of your vocabulary too.

The really good thing happening for you now is that you are seeking treatment even in very difficult circumstances. That's great.

Keep singing - you do have a voice!

Start writing *there is a diary section here if you want to write here and,

paint up a storm. :)
 

Fahrenheit451

Confident
Hi Forgetfulknight.
It sounds like you’ve already taken that first step by going to see someone. Make sure it’s someone that’s fully qualified to help you (ask questions) and someone you can be comfortable around. That way you’re more likely to express what’s really bothering you. I’ve sat in many a group session and never stated the real problems I was having, but one on one really helped.
The next thing to do is find out the local help lines in your area. Many of them are 1-800 numbers so it’s no cost to you. Daily thoughts of suicide are not a trivial matter and having someone to talk to, even if it’s on the phone can really help.
The dog thing is a good idea but remember it’s a huge commitment, your therapist should be able to help you in that matter. I read a good article that said “All dog are therapy dogs, they just don’t know it”?
I have a Border Collie that I got after my PTSD diagnosis. She’s not formally trained but she’s such a sweetheart and demands so much of my attention that you’re be surprised how much it helps.
Anyways, welcome to the forum. I’m just new myself so hopefully site this will help us both.
 
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