Hi all - time to bottom line some things, and to "spill it" about a few things I've been cryptic about because I didn't want to be too "real world" identifiable in the unlikely event someone in "real life" somehow found my connection to this and other mental health support forums.
Sorry, but this will be very long ...
I have felt very "different" lately from how I have felt for the past 3 years after my "traumatic event". 3 years ago, I felt like a "dead man walking" I was sure that I would lose everything in life - home, family, career, assets, social standing ... And that I was destined to die on the streets homeless and alone. I honestly believed that to be literally true. I can see know there was a tremendous amount of distorted thought in that - catastrophizing to the n-th degree.
Those of you on this site and the other MH site who remember me know what I am referring to - I spent a few weeks in a PHP, and I thought if anyone found out (and I went to extremes to cover it up) it would ruin my reputation, career, etc.
I was completely off the deep end about that - I obsessed about it and in my mind made it into this "thing" where I saw scenarios like family ordering me out of the house and off the property forever, employer firing me on the spot, cops beating me up or worse etc - VERY out there paranoid thinking.
That point-in-time incident piggybacked on a lifetime of issues stemming from growing up in an ultra-abusive, extremely unstable home environment where everything 24/6/365 revolved around trying to appease and survive my extremely mentally ill father who was incredibly abustle to the family, but especially to my mother, who was the object of his rage, jealousy, and controlling nastier, and to me because as the only boy I somehow was in his mind the biggest threat to his domination of the family.
So I have to say - I was pretty messed up my entire life, and very messed up in a different way after 2012. Looking back, I feel I exhibited classic "battered child" symptoms such as no self esteem, self destructive behaviors, no sense of a future, always living under a dark cloud of fear and anxiety that made me more or less just "drift" in life.
Post 2012, I lived a "cover up" and simultaneously tried to change literally everything about myself in a radical way. And that became the sole focus of my life for almost 3 years. And I took that to extremes. I convinced myself that my only chance for survival was to "erase" my mental health diagnosis and my time in a PHP from existence. I became so focused - and paranoid - that I did a lot of things that I look back now on and say "WTF"? And in trying to "fix it" by making it all go away and cover it up, I basically came close to being in some ways as mentally unbalanced and out of control as I felt "wrongfully accused" of being in 2012.
I will spare all of the gory details of the past 3 years of my obsessive and excessive behavior - just a brief highlights reel - things like ... Blowing through somewhere in the neighborhood of $300K and coming close to bankruptcy ... Becoming so obsessed with making myself into a "tough guy" physically string that I was spending 8-10 hours a week working with personal trainers and coaches in everything from running to weight lifting, swimming, to boxing ... Going to all kinds of doctors and therapists "diagnosis shopping" trying to get them to say and commit to paper what I wanted to hear ... Buying enough "stuff" to start my own department store.
Life changes on a dime ... And at breakneck speed at times. My tormentor father died years ago - that left me taking care of my mother ... And she taking care of me. For almost 2 decades. Through the good and bad. She overcompensated for her regret - not being brave enough to get away from him for the sake of her children - by overindulging me. And I was her protector - first against him, later against life - heart attacks, pulmonary fibrosis, CHF, severe anemia, all kinds of things.
The 2012 thing and its aftermath was hard on her - she knew the full truth because she caught me in lies and dragged it out of me - and she never stopped loving me or supporting me even so.
Everything changed in an instant 7 months ago. She fell and broke her back ... At age 90, with a history of serious health issues. In the hospital then to "rehab" which didn't go well - 2 weeks into it, they recommended hospice - and I told them to go f*ck themselves and raised an enormous stink, changed doctors, changed facilities ... Found a better place and more aggressive, caring doctors who gave us hope ... And brought her home after 4 more weeks - healing but still with many issues.
And I quit my job to stay home and care for her - hard because I had no clue where that left me in my own life... I felt utterly lost again, almost like 2012. Except for one thing - I work for a man old enough to be my father biologically - and who emotionally has become more of a father to me than mine ever was - and he wouldn't "let me" quit - he set up "work from home" computer access, got an intern and a temp to cover and with that I stayed home cared for my mom and still have a job.
So I stayed home all summer caring for my frail elderly mom, pills and shots, bathing, changed more than a few adult diapers when she had accidents etc, took her out n a wheelchair to a lot of doctors appointments, got her set up with visiting nurses, PT, OT.
I actually was caring for two "seniors" - simultaneously my elderly, blind, diabetic dog who was just as much part of the family as is he were human... And I was glad I could care for both of them.
Two weeks ago roughly my dog got sick ... And went downhill in a matter of hours ... and I had to have him put to sleep - diagnostic imaging found he had a large mass with numerous satellite masses - apparently had cancer unknown to me or the vets (he had almost as many appointments as my mom, was seen by a vet at least 10-12 times June-Oct for various things).
The next morning my mom had a cardiologist appt, we had breakfast out albeit at a drive through since it was so hard to get her in and out - and she seemed to be doing well overall.
3 days later in the morning said she didn't feel good, was tired. By noon I was concerned - and the visiting nurse came and said her vitals were ok, and the nurse made arrangements to come back the next morning for a recheck. By early evening my mom started to slur her words and I called 9/11. They discovered she had bacteria in her blood, put her in ICU hooked up to a ton of stuff, put her on a respirator ... And it was all too late ... She passed away about 24 hours after I called 9/11.
I lost both of then in 5 days.
I "should be" a suicidal basket case ... Except I'm not.
It's hard - I feel a great sadness and an empty house is really hard at times.
But I'm ok. When my dog was ultimately dying they told me to go somewhere for 3-4 hours while they tried to stabilize him and do diagnostics. He was pretty sick when I took him in and worse when I came back. After the decision was made and paperwork done and it was time I went to be with him ... In his side on a gurney with on O2 tube down his throat and too weak to raise his head but he recognized me and kissed me and held him while he died.
I wasn't there when mom died - other family was, I went home a few hours to get the house ready for overnight company - the ICU nurse said she thought I had 6-8 hours - turns out only about 2 - but she was unconscious since morning - I told her then I loved her and she was a great mom - and she was to the best of her ability under harsh circumstances.
I should be a basket case - the "me" of my childhood and the "me" of 2012 would be suicidal now.
But I am neither of those ... I grew up a lot over the past 3 years despite everything - and especially over the summer. I am sad ... But I'm ok.
Guess what? I win. All of the demons of my past, all of those paranoid fears that lived in a deep black cave in my psyche can go f*ck themselves too.
At the funeral, last week, someone read a poem that Queen Elizabeth read at her mother's funeral ... About how she woukd want her children to move forward and be happy.
That's my plan. I have been given every opportunity to do that and I have no intention of ever again being the weak helpless pathetic victim I was raised to be by my father and told I was in 2012.
I win ... I survive.
Sorry, but this will be very long ...
I have felt very "different" lately from how I have felt for the past 3 years after my "traumatic event". 3 years ago, I felt like a "dead man walking" I was sure that I would lose everything in life - home, family, career, assets, social standing ... And that I was destined to die on the streets homeless and alone. I honestly believed that to be literally true. I can see know there was a tremendous amount of distorted thought in that - catastrophizing to the n-th degree.
Those of you on this site and the other MH site who remember me know what I am referring to - I spent a few weeks in a PHP, and I thought if anyone found out (and I went to extremes to cover it up) it would ruin my reputation, career, etc.
I was completely off the deep end about that - I obsessed about it and in my mind made it into this "thing" where I saw scenarios like family ordering me out of the house and off the property forever, employer firing me on the spot, cops beating me up or worse etc - VERY out there paranoid thinking.
That point-in-time incident piggybacked on a lifetime of issues stemming from growing up in an ultra-abusive, extremely unstable home environment where everything 24/6/365 revolved around trying to appease and survive my extremely mentally ill father who was incredibly abustle to the family, but especially to my mother, who was the object of his rage, jealousy, and controlling nastier, and to me because as the only boy I somehow was in his mind the biggest threat to his domination of the family.
So I have to say - I was pretty messed up my entire life, and very messed up in a different way after 2012. Looking back, I feel I exhibited classic "battered child" symptoms such as no self esteem, self destructive behaviors, no sense of a future, always living under a dark cloud of fear and anxiety that made me more or less just "drift" in life.
Post 2012, I lived a "cover up" and simultaneously tried to change literally everything about myself in a radical way. And that became the sole focus of my life for almost 3 years. And I took that to extremes. I convinced myself that my only chance for survival was to "erase" my mental health diagnosis and my time in a PHP from existence. I became so focused - and paranoid - that I did a lot of things that I look back now on and say "WTF"? And in trying to "fix it" by making it all go away and cover it up, I basically came close to being in some ways as mentally unbalanced and out of control as I felt "wrongfully accused" of being in 2012.
I will spare all of the gory details of the past 3 years of my obsessive and excessive behavior - just a brief highlights reel - things like ... Blowing through somewhere in the neighborhood of $300K and coming close to bankruptcy ... Becoming so obsessed with making myself into a "tough guy" physically string that I was spending 8-10 hours a week working with personal trainers and coaches in everything from running to weight lifting, swimming, to boxing ... Going to all kinds of doctors and therapists "diagnosis shopping" trying to get them to say and commit to paper what I wanted to hear ... Buying enough "stuff" to start my own department store.
Life changes on a dime ... And at breakneck speed at times. My tormentor father died years ago - that left me taking care of my mother ... And she taking care of me. For almost 2 decades. Through the good and bad. She overcompensated for her regret - not being brave enough to get away from him for the sake of her children - by overindulging me. And I was her protector - first against him, later against life - heart attacks, pulmonary fibrosis, CHF, severe anemia, all kinds of things.
The 2012 thing and its aftermath was hard on her - she knew the full truth because she caught me in lies and dragged it out of me - and she never stopped loving me or supporting me even so.
Everything changed in an instant 7 months ago. She fell and broke her back ... At age 90, with a history of serious health issues. In the hospital then to "rehab" which didn't go well - 2 weeks into it, they recommended hospice - and I told them to go f*ck themselves and raised an enormous stink, changed doctors, changed facilities ... Found a better place and more aggressive, caring doctors who gave us hope ... And brought her home after 4 more weeks - healing but still with many issues.
And I quit my job to stay home and care for her - hard because I had no clue where that left me in my own life... I felt utterly lost again, almost like 2012. Except for one thing - I work for a man old enough to be my father biologically - and who emotionally has become more of a father to me than mine ever was - and he wouldn't "let me" quit - he set up "work from home" computer access, got an intern and a temp to cover and with that I stayed home cared for my mom and still have a job.
So I stayed home all summer caring for my frail elderly mom, pills and shots, bathing, changed more than a few adult diapers when she had accidents etc, took her out n a wheelchair to a lot of doctors appointments, got her set up with visiting nurses, PT, OT.
I actually was caring for two "seniors" - simultaneously my elderly, blind, diabetic dog who was just as much part of the family as is he were human... And I was glad I could care for both of them.
Two weeks ago roughly my dog got sick ... And went downhill in a matter of hours ... and I had to have him put to sleep - diagnostic imaging found he had a large mass with numerous satellite masses - apparently had cancer unknown to me or the vets (he had almost as many appointments as my mom, was seen by a vet at least 10-12 times June-Oct for various things).
The next morning my mom had a cardiologist appt, we had breakfast out albeit at a drive through since it was so hard to get her in and out - and she seemed to be doing well overall.
3 days later in the morning said she didn't feel good, was tired. By noon I was concerned - and the visiting nurse came and said her vitals were ok, and the nurse made arrangements to come back the next morning for a recheck. By early evening my mom started to slur her words and I called 9/11. They discovered she had bacteria in her blood, put her in ICU hooked up to a ton of stuff, put her on a respirator ... And it was all too late ... She passed away about 24 hours after I called 9/11.
I lost both of then in 5 days.
I "should be" a suicidal basket case ... Except I'm not.
It's hard - I feel a great sadness and an empty house is really hard at times.
But I'm ok. When my dog was ultimately dying they told me to go somewhere for 3-4 hours while they tried to stabilize him and do diagnostics. He was pretty sick when I took him in and worse when I came back. After the decision was made and paperwork done and it was time I went to be with him ... In his side on a gurney with on O2 tube down his throat and too weak to raise his head but he recognized me and kissed me and held him while he died.
I wasn't there when mom died - other family was, I went home a few hours to get the house ready for overnight company - the ICU nurse said she thought I had 6-8 hours - turns out only about 2 - but she was unconscious since morning - I told her then I loved her and she was a great mom - and she was to the best of her ability under harsh circumstances.
I should be a basket case - the "me" of my childhood and the "me" of 2012 would be suicidal now.
But I am neither of those ... I grew up a lot over the past 3 years despite everything - and especially over the summer. I am sad ... But I'm ok.
Guess what? I win. All of the demons of my past, all of those paranoid fears that lived in a deep black cave in my psyche can go f*ck themselves too.
At the funeral, last week, someone read a poem that Queen Elizabeth read at her mother's funeral ... About how she woukd want her children to move forward and be happy.
That's my plan. I have been given every opportunity to do that and I have no intention of ever again being the weak helpless pathetic victim I was raised to be by my father and told I was in 2012.
I win ... I survive.
