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My Depression & PTSD

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nonabug5

Learning
This week has been particularly bad one for me. Why? Who knows. It really doesn't matter anyway, it just is. I am so bluntly aware of what I had envisioned for myself so many years ago compared to the reality of my life now. I constantly remind myself that the sudden movement out of the corner of my eye is benign, but yet I react just the same. I can understand the theory of reminding myself that " it is not happening" and it is a good practice I'm sure, but it does little to resolve my constant hyper vigilance. It comes at a heavy price. I try to remember that I did some good things in my life, I am sure I have in some way touched another person's heart. I hope I have. I am so terribly unsure of anything anymore. I do not know who that image is I see in the mirror, but I don't like it. I look in those eyes & I try to invision a survivor who has earned her stripes & the right to be here. There are so very many triggers for me to simply overlook or ignore. I find myself sucking it up and playing the happy go lucky sod, when inside I am screaming out so loud that I know someone must hear me. But no, all is acceptably normal. I find myself fighting sleep simply to avoid that inevitable dream once again. Maybe if I stay up all night, I won't wake up in a cold sweat trying to push someone away, or maybe I will be so tired that I won't feel the mice scurrying around my legs or the roaches and other bugs casually walking on me until I can tolerate the sensation no more and flinch, knowing the rope is going to tighten around my neck. It is not happening now, or is it? I'm never sure. I constantly hear, "It's okay." It's not okay. It may be okay for you, but it is moist definitely not okay for me. Maybe it would have been different if I could have rose above it in spite of myself and accompolished a few of those many dreams I had at one time. Instead I have tried to bury the smells, the sounds, the touch, the simple panic of trying to survive at one moment and then cursing God for not letting me just die the next. I try to be positive around others, no point in singing a sad song. But what do you do when It plain and simple hurts just to sit with yourself. When you feel so raw inside that you can't even find the strength to pray for peace and sanity because it seems so very obscure that it is surely an impossibility. How do you stop hearing the screams? Was that me or was it someone else? Weird, but I honestly don't know. I remember screaming at one point, but I can't remember when I decided to stop screaming. Strange isn't it that those screams I did not verbalize are always the loudest in my head. But, "it's okay, it's not happening right now." For me it is a constant. I tried to open up and let it out, but it doesn't seem to come past my gut before I am disassociating. It's okay, it is only a memory, it can't hurt me anymore. It can only make me bitter that I can not simply get over it and move forward with my life. Then I get to deal with that reality, - what have I done with my life? Why could I have not been stronger in my resolve to let the past go? What does it mean for me? More importantly, to me? I had a nurse ask me what I did to survive, what did I tell myself? I responded I don't know. Ironically at that moment, I thought that maybe I could one day share my story on a much broader scale. There had to be others like me out there. It is funny to me how people want to hear all the gory details and some actually ask point blank what it felt like to be tied down for days. You stupidly find yourself wanting to share some little part of what happened,... you know to test the waters and see for yourself the reaction in others. Are they sincerely concerned as I thought that nurse was? No, just curious, nosey at best. You hear the false compassion, that you at the time thinks is sincere, until you become a burden even to them and then they are eager to avoid dealing with you and your bizarre behavior. Curiosity turns to ambivalence when you do not follow protocol and resolve your issues on queue, thus you become a thorn in the paw of those who did not cure you symptoms and make you all better so you can go away and leave them alone. Then there you are, shuffled from one hand to the other as you fall from grace because you still are hard headed to the point of still being symptomatic with your disassociation and depression. The shame of it all. So in the end, you are stuck with yourself, hopelessly believing there is a chance for peace of mind, but your reality is not expecting that panacea to happen for you. It is written that it is not unusual for those with PTSD to have unresolved issues with themselves and their religious convictions, or higher power if you prefer. I agree totally. On a good day, I have hope and on a bad day I have profound pain and bitterness, - probably more with myself and my inability to maintain a good resolve and "get over it". It would be so much easier if I did not oscillate between extreme emotions a hundred times a day and a thousand times a night. At some point, I am most at ease when I am totally numb, which is not too very often at all. Where do I go from here? Which way is up when you feel like you are drowning? Yet with myself, I have a hunger to survive at some level. Some days it is stronger than others and a good day will comfort me. That must be what it is that keeps me coming back for more. The good day. One that is not totally consumed in an inner ache deep in your gut that goes straight through to your backbone and keeps you restless and agitated even when you are alone. I honestly don't know at times if I am trying to remember or trying to forget. It does not matter really because the truth is I will never forget, I just want another good day.
 
Keep writing, let it all out. I suggest if you haven't started a diary to do so in the members section. Getting it out will help, and no one will judge you.

We all strive for the good days. Facing your trauma, and emotions, working through them will allow you to have more good days.
 
Hi nonabug, I think it's great that you wrote your feelings out like that. Like She Cat said, you should start a trauma diary and keep writing what you feel.

Tammy
 
Nonabug, WOW!!! so well written and so exactly what I feel that I'm stunned. I will watch for anything you write with great interest and thank you for sharing! The lost empty ache of our suffering. The tortured grief of the unrealized potential. Each moment heavily laden with too many thoughts, too much pain. For what it's worth--------I know.
 
Nonabug, thank you, I can identify especially with "it is written that those with PTSD have unresolved issues with themselves and their religious convictions...higher power ..."
I too, feel ashamed that I still am symptomatic with dissociation and depression.. Some days I do not know where the time has gone and what I have done.... I have experienced derealisation/depersonalisation but I think the loss of time, while living in my headspace is dissociation. Antidepressants seem to have made me into a zombie. I live a reclusive life these days.
I am 62 years of age, and only started to investigate causes and effects of childhood trauma(s), plus the PTSD of my former husband (Vietnam Veteran-Infantry Soldier - two tours of duty). We did not know about PTSD then, nor domestic violence.

Had a spectacular public meltdown two years ago, causing me to lose my good job, feel pretty worthless most of the time. How to get out of the hole and get back into doing more than just surviving?

My doctor told me the more I talk about the abuse issues the less I will experience dissociation. However, I unwisely told too many people, and they obviously could not deal with my conversation. I was shunned and now wish I had just gone away quietly and stayed silent.

It looks like this forum is a safe and accepting place to have conversations that will lead to permanent healing.

Thanks for sharing your story Nonabug.

Trish
 
About those flashbacks......

Trish,
Sounds like we have walked a similar path. I, too, was shunned when I started having flashbacks & dissassociating. I worked in the ER and lost my job as well. Along with it, went my self-esteem and self-worth. I immediately became "Typhoid Mary" to my peers and so called friends. Like you, I was ostracized and humiliated. I truly believe if you want to find out who your real friends are, go crazy or go broke. In my case one led to the other. It has been a long and difficult journey. It is hard to accept what you cannot understand, especially if that means you have to look hard in the mirror each day only to see the undeniable pain looking back from the eyes in the mirror. I remember those years of self confidence and assertiveness. Wow, was that really me? What happened? How did I let this happen? I am finally realizing that it happened because I tried so hard to do & be what was expected of me, most of the time by me.....

I am 47 years old. We are both of an era that was seen and not heard. If there was abuse in the home, it was not discussed. It was a time when physical chastisement was purfectly normal in the home., or so I thought anyway. So we learned to shut up & suck it up. Seemed to work for a while for me. I thought I was being strong and resilient. Little did I realize that I was paving a path to hell. I sucked my feelings up so well that I forgot I had them at all. When I was abducted, I thought since I survived I was okay. Right. I plowed back into everyday life as fast as I could, and it worked very well for me,..... until it quit working all together. I did not even realize I was dissassociating for quite some time. Then came the flashbacks. That gets your attention in a hurry, doesn't it?

So what is to become of us? How do we focus on our pain if we are not certain of exactly what that pain is, or was then and has evolved into now.
I have been on autopilot for so long I don't remember flipping the switch.
That in itself is painful to me. I thought I was in control, - a strong person who could handle any crisis with quick wit and resolve. It is tremendously
painful and humiliating to look in the mirror now. I have broken society's rule and become "mentally ill". I keep vigil at night and sleep in the day so I can be assured to see every corner of the room when I wake.

But, and there IS a but, this does not define ME. I may get up later in the day than others, but I still get up,... as you do. So are we weakings? No, we are not. We are survivors who call upon the strength of many like ourselves to face each new day and to expect it to be better than the one before. We have that right of expectation and it IS what lends us hope. If we do not believe that tomorrow will be better that today, then we will not have hope at all. That is why we are here, in this forum. We can meet others like ourselves and know we are not lepers or throw aways. We simply are beginning to realize we did not ask for what we got, but we have the right to hurt and to seek resolution. We certainly have much to offer, -- to ourselves and to each other, because HERE,...we are not alone and never will be.
 
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