S
Smallhold
CPTSD is a nasty one. As many here can confirm.
Been in treatment and through a misunderstanding of the PTSD center, I was written out as a client. Therapist wanted to write me back in but couldn't be done. Procedures must be followed as does the waiting list.
Things have piled up. To the point where I had to admit to my son I was ready to go. He took me to the regular mental health crisis point last friday night (not specific PTSD experienced) and they send me away with Seroquel. Which was not a good idea because it knocked me out and enforced suicidal thoughts.
All week I've been trying to get help. The regular mental healthcare here knows not enough about CPTSD. The center I used to go offered me initially a new intake or inpatient. The inpatient only to adjust meds, no treatment. Sadly I'm one of many who react paradoxal to meds. We tried every group of meds available.
My former therapist called today she couldn't get hold of a psychiatrist over the week. She'll try again monday but told me they are very busy. So probably wouldn't have an answer by then either. It may take a while she said and we both know I am actively planning.
Possibilities from their side are:
Inpatient to adjust to meds from which is in my file I do not tolerate them. Take it that's a no.
In January a course for sexually abused women while my CPTSD is that plus neglect plus abusive ex plus war trauma. Therapist told me honestly those two options might not apply to me.
Which leaves nothing in the form of help for a person who has been honest about being planning the darkest. I try to hang on for my son but for two year already, it has been the thing in front of my mind. It has been in mind but at the back all my life.
Much happened and I understand getting help in a small country is not likely if the expertise center already gave up on me. In their defence, they are good and tried. Just too bureaucratic and spend more time in meetings than treating clients. So now I am without help, only friend left can't talk about it as it reminds her of her brother who left life early.
At an age where over half a century of fighting has left me worn out. When is enough really enough if there is no help?
Been in treatment and through a misunderstanding of the PTSD center, I was written out as a client. Therapist wanted to write me back in but couldn't be done. Procedures must be followed as does the waiting list.
Things have piled up. To the point where I had to admit to my son I was ready to go. He took me to the regular mental health crisis point last friday night (not specific PTSD experienced) and they send me away with Seroquel. Which was not a good idea because it knocked me out and enforced suicidal thoughts.
All week I've been trying to get help. The regular mental healthcare here knows not enough about CPTSD. The center I used to go offered me initially a new intake or inpatient. The inpatient only to adjust meds, no treatment. Sadly I'm one of many who react paradoxal to meds. We tried every group of meds available.
My former therapist called today she couldn't get hold of a psychiatrist over the week. She'll try again monday but told me they are very busy. So probably wouldn't have an answer by then either. It may take a while she said and we both know I am actively planning.
Possibilities from their side are:
Inpatient to adjust to meds from which is in my file I do not tolerate them. Take it that's a no.
In January a course for sexually abused women while my CPTSD is that plus neglect plus abusive ex plus war trauma. Therapist told me honestly those two options might not apply to me.
Which leaves nothing in the form of help for a person who has been honest about being planning the darkest. I try to hang on for my son but for two year already, it has been the thing in front of my mind. It has been in mind but at the back all my life.
Much happened and I understand getting help in a small country is not likely if the expertise center already gave up on me. In their defence, they are good and tried. Just too bureaucratic and spend more time in meetings than treating clients. So now I am without help, only friend left can't talk about it as it reminds her of her brother who left life early.
At an age where over half a century of fighting has left me worn out. When is enough really enough if there is no help?
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