DH and I have really not agreed on a few of my posts that are pending in the cue and while I love writing how I feel and while I love publishing on this blog, I love the peace between DH and myself more. It isn't worth posting a post that might cause marital strife.
I've taken a break from writing and publishing and expressing my feelings. I'm not sure this was the right thing to do or not, but it is what it is.
Over the last six weeks, my PTSD has been triggered weekly if not daily from past experiences. I have hidden behind my desk at work, hidden behind my school books, hidden in my room and hidden from my emotions. I have also hidden from my own blog, afraid of what my writings might elicit out of me in such a vulnerable state.I have what therapists call "Compound Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)". With all the trauma I have been through in my life, each old post traumatic stress event becomes compounded with the next new traumatic event that takes place in my life. Yes, civilians can get PTSD outside of a war ravaged environment. No, I have never been in the military. No, PTSD is not exclusive to military personnel. No, I am not in any way undermining the PTSD our service men and women of our country undoubtedly fight for a lifetime after they have fought for our freedom.
My PTSD began as a child and continues today. Without going into a novel of my life story, lets just say November is an extremely hard month for me. Multiple traumatic events have happened in the month of November to me over the years. I remember dates vividly and clearly. When the sun rises on those calendar dates, it is as if I travel back in time. True to the definition of PTSD, I re-live the experience. Sometimes all that is needed to trigger me is the calendar date, nothing more.*I should note here* not all the traumatic events in my life occurred in November. They have occurred throughout many different months. This time of year, the month of November, tends to be a time in which I am much more susceptible to crumbling under triggers.
As I have reflected, the months of April or May are the other time frames in which I tend to get triggered more often. I can be triggered by a phrase stated by someone else, a sight, a sound, a smell, even a commercial. It does not take much to jog this deep memory of mine. Before I can stop it, I travel back to that moment of trauma. I become engulfed in the depths of what happened before and for moments, sometimes hours, I am convinced that I am back at the traumatic scene. I re-live it. I re-hear voices. I re-see the things I saw in my mind's eye. I re-feel the emotional pain deep in my chest. I fear for everything I hold dear. My fight or flight sensors and reactors kick into high gear and I often become immobilized at the darkness and loss of control gripping hold of me.
Coming back to the Now and leaving that traumatic experience is agonizing, painful and exhausting. Often I need others to remind me that I am no longer in that place. Things have changed. It is not as it was. Sometimes I can convince myself that I am not there in the past. Other times I cannot. In every PTSD experience I know before, I know during and I know after that I am in the throws of a PTSD episode. It is really hard to explain, but there is a piece of me that is outside of myself. A piece of me clearly sees what is going on, clearly understands that I am trapped and I just need to get back out. During the entire experience it is like I am looking at my world with two sets of eyes. The first set sees, thinks, hears and re-lives all the trauma all over again. The second set of eyes tells me that what I *think* is happening, is not REALLY happening again. The second set of eyes tries to convince my first set of eyes that I have to pull through because the trauma is not happening again now. That was then. This is now. It is a frightening experience. It is confusing and it is not easy to explain.
A PTSD attack is different from an anxiety attack. Anxiety attacks focus on an unknown possible future event that bring a person to their knees. There is not a clear, tangible connection in anxiety attacks. Anxiety attacks are more like being in a dark fog with nothing to grab on to, no specific experience to concretely fear during the attack. More or less, an anxiety attack is a fear of EVERYTHING all at once. A PTSD attack is an intense belief that what happened before will happen again and is probably happening right now and if I don't recognize that it is happening and will happen again over and over and over, I am a pitiful fool. A PTSD attack brings about fine details right down to the song that was playing on the radio or the commercial on the television in the background when the trauma first occurred. A panic attack doesn't hone in on those kinds of details, but, none-the-less, panic attacks are just as frightening.
Throughout the month of November, DH has tried extremely hard to be conscious and aware of all of his actions and behaviors. If November were to be a predictor of this entire bipolar season for him, it would predict an extremely mild if not non-existent bipolar season. He has become mindful of his actions. His bipolar medication has stabilized him. He is doing exactly what I have asked of him. I need his consistency desperately. Right now he is giving me consistency.
This Thanksgiving season, we had more holiday drama among extended family members, along with the rest of the nation, I'm sure. One family member has hurt me so severely that I feel that I have been pushed down and cannot get back up. After a month of getting triggered several times a week if not every day that week, I am losing my stamina and my strength.
Last night I asked DH if I could just lay on him, to just have him hold me on the sofa. I placed my head on his lap and his fingers instinctively began tracing my arm and back. Together we talked. Together we decided that I am going to get back onto an antidepressant again to get through the deep places of my mind that are dark and frightening. I've been on antidepressants before. They have been low doses and are just enough to help pull me through and see clearly enough to get through the difficulties at hand. I know the antidepressants work. I know I don't need the medication long term necessarily, but I do know that there are times during the year that I do need them. Times like November and quite possibly May of next year.
Through this blog, I tell others to get the help they need. Get the medications that they need. Get the help and support that they need. It is time I take my own advice. I can't do this alone. I need support. I need love. I need medication to help me through this depressing time that I am experiencing. With time, perhaps I will master PTSD. My PTSD is not mastered now. Perhaps it will never be mastered but I do have the tools to help me. I have people who love me. I have access to therapists. I have access to physicians who can oversee the use of helpful medication. I am not ashamed that I need to take medication to help me. No one should be ashamed of seeking and treating the mental illnesses they face. If you are not getting what you need because you are ashamed, take me as an example and use my example as a strength to you. I don't have bipolar. DH has bipolar. I don't have to have bipolar to need treatment for my own mental issues. We all have them. Some people can manage their issues perfectly fine on their own because they are mild enough to be managed with basic exercises and activities. Usually, I fall into this category. Right now, I do not. Do not be ashamed of being human. Do not be ashamed of having faults. Do not be ashamed of the strength you are gaining through your weakest moments.
Right now, I can't tell you when my next blog post will occur. It will happen. I will continue to post. I am unsure of the frequency but I still have plenty more to say.
~Elizabeth~
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