littleoc
MyPTSD Pro
Hi, y’all
I’m struggling. My anxiety keeps bubbling up and I keep becoming suicidal and generally unwell. I’m struggling to get dressed, stay conscious, eat, go outside, or see things optimistically.
My service dog is becoming too old to help. I didn’t foresee becoming increasingly suicidal as a side effect of this. I didn’t realize how well she was keeping me okay, alive, and cared for.
I’m stuck in the house I was abused in. My mom’s behavior has not changed much. I do much better when I leave the house, unless my service dog isn’t there with me, offering security and grounding.
I have been having seizures and my service dog has only been able to help if im on the floor.
What do I do? I can’t stop believing I won’t make it past when she’s dies of old age, or imagining how much I’ll struggle to stay alive when she gets too old to help. I am blocking out the thoughts and trying to validate the fears, but I’m struggling.
Most of my mornings are starting out okay.
I feel incredibly stupid about this. I feel I should have learned by now how to live without my dog, and I have been practicing, but it ends badly. I’m not ready, and I hate that. I can’t bring in a puppy to this house. I can’t move out. Other people on this site have said that PTSD suffers with service dogs need to constantly be working to be free of needing a dog, and that psychiatrists hate people who rely on service dogs, and I really am trying. I am trying so hard but I end up... I want to say “failing.” It’s not even a distortion here, is it?
Can anyone offer words of support or something?
Sorry to be a downer. I’m struggling to be my normal optimistic self.
The last time I was this bad over and over like this was right before my service dog started accompanying me everywhere. I’m so scared of being that bad again. My quality of life was nothing. I had started starving from being unable to leave my home. And I wasn’t even living where I was constantly getting flashbacks. I went to a hospital eventually, continued to struggle until my dog was placed a with me.
I thought I had made enough progress. To the point that I could hide that I was having seizures. (I’m embarrassed about them.)
Any advice of literally any kind (including words of support) would help, I think.
Thank you
I’m struggling. My anxiety keeps bubbling up and I keep becoming suicidal and generally unwell. I’m struggling to get dressed, stay conscious, eat, go outside, or see things optimistically.
My service dog is becoming too old to help. I didn’t foresee becoming increasingly suicidal as a side effect of this. I didn’t realize how well she was keeping me okay, alive, and cared for.
I’m stuck in the house I was abused in. My mom’s behavior has not changed much. I do much better when I leave the house, unless my service dog isn’t there with me, offering security and grounding.
I have been having seizures and my service dog has only been able to help if im on the floor.
What do I do? I can’t stop believing I won’t make it past when she’s dies of old age, or imagining how much I’ll struggle to stay alive when she gets too old to help. I am blocking out the thoughts and trying to validate the fears, but I’m struggling.
Most of my mornings are starting out okay.
I feel incredibly stupid about this. I feel I should have learned by now how to live without my dog, and I have been practicing, but it ends badly. I’m not ready, and I hate that. I can’t bring in a puppy to this house. I can’t move out. Other people on this site have said that PTSD suffers with service dogs need to constantly be working to be free of needing a dog, and that psychiatrists hate people who rely on service dogs, and I really am trying. I am trying so hard but I end up... I want to say “failing.” It’s not even a distortion here, is it?
Can anyone offer words of support or something?
Sorry to be a downer. I’m struggling to be my normal optimistic self.
The last time I was this bad over and over like this was right before my service dog started accompanying me everywhere. I’m so scared of being that bad again. My quality of life was nothing. I had started starving from being unable to leave my home. And I wasn’t even living where I was constantly getting flashbacks. I went to a hospital eventually, continued to struggle until my dog was placed a with me.
I thought I had made enough progress. To the point that I could hide that I was having seizures. (I’m embarrassed about them.)
Any advice of literally any kind (including words of support) would help, I think.
Thank you