My Diagnosis

I went to the doctor today and filled out a whole bunch of paperwork about my symptoms. Since I have never gotten help before- I had no idea what to expect. I arrived early to fill out the paperwork. My husband was by my side and so supportive, I knew I was safe, but I still couldn’t help the tightness in my throat. My hands were fidgety, my chest was tight and my eyes were shifty.

Finally, my name was called. I followed the woman to get my blood pressure taken, my weight (yay) and then followed her down a hallway. I hate hallways. It had a lot of doors too which is so stressful. I half expected someone to jump out at me. No one did though.

I sat down in her office and she began the hour long process of asking me questions. Normally I do not mind questions about my life- but these questions were the questions I always try and avoid. I immediately began to feel my air get cold in my throat, my hands wouldn’t stop moving and I kept holding my breath.

We went through all the paperwork and questions at a nice pace. It wasn’t too overwhelming. Once she was done entering all my answers into the computer- she called for the doctor to come see me.

He came in and was very friendly. He got right to the point and even printed out my medications that I will have to take from now on. I had no idea what I had been diagnosed with. I didn’t know if I would be at all. I had my guesses but I wasn’t exactly sure. I thought I would get just an occasional dose of meds for when my panic attacks were really bad.

Nope. I have 2 different medications to take daily and then another one for when my anxiety really spikes. Thankfully when we filled them, all 3 only totaled up to under $10. I really hope they work. I won’t say what they are just because I don’t want to.

The doctor said I am suffering from PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Moderate Major Depression because of the PTSD and I have General Anxiety Disorder because of the PTSD too. I wasn’t expecting Depression. I mean I know when I feel down or sad I “feel depressed” but major depression. Wow. Now I kinda know how Robin Williams felt. You can hide depression and most people are shocked to find out that you have it because you “seem happy”.

My chest and throat are still so tight and I notice I hold my breath a lot. I don’t know why but I always do. My therapist said I have PTSD but it is nice to have it on paper and Doctor diagnosed that in fact I do suffer from these 3 things.

It is really hard to open up about this face to face with someone, a friend, or a family member because I don’t look hurt. If I had a broken arm or foot, people would better understand. I really hope this works and my PTSD won’t be so bad.

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The Words that Heal

Last time I visited my therapist she said to think up of an action plan of what to do when I feel overwhelmed. I have been drawing a blank these past couple weeks and I couldn’t figure out anything. I saw this post on Yahoo the other day that talked about an Anger Box for newlyweds.

You get a box, you and your husband write love letters to each other  whenever you want and however many times you want. Fill up the box and then shut it. Then whenever you feel like giving up/calling it quits or get so mad at each other -you will open up that box and read your love letter written to you by your spouse. It helps remind you what it is truly all about.

I do have a blessings box. That is when I write about blessings God has provided for me so I do not forget about him. I have kinda slacked off/not being noticing the blessings during my “haze”. And like my last entry (speaking in quotes) sometimes I just don’t want anything to do with God because of my abusive triggers.

My task today besides cleaning the house and going to therapy will be to get these boxes together and start writing some letters. I might write on the outside what it will help for. So for example I will write a letter that will explain how life is so beautiful and all my plans if I become suicidal. Also my husband’s letters will help remind me how much I mean to him and that will help.

Another one is if I feel so overwhelmed by sharing living space with others- I will write a letter about how much of a blessing they are. Or if I can’t stand to read a scripture because of a trigger- I will read a letter I wrote to God. I struggle with seeking attention to wanting to be covered like a nun. I also struggle with extreme anxiety, nightmares, fantasies, anger, depression, self-esteem, using food as my comfort, exercise abuse triggers, anti social behavior and more.

I haven’t developed anything else for that action plan but I know this will help. I am excited to start this journey of helping myself heal. I might even put a couple letters I write to myself on here to share. I have a lot of work to do. 🙂

 

Haze

It’s been two weeks since I have last blogged. I want to avoid certain topics. I can feel myself start to zone out. It is like a haze over a pond early in the sunrise. Gradual, silent and lingering. I just want to disappear. I have not been able to go to counseling for 3 weeks now. Not because of my choice but because she has been unavailable or sick.

Of course realistically I do not blame her, but in the hazey fog- it’s all her fault and I want to quit. Why do I depend so much on other people to make me feel better when they just let me down? The past couple weeks have been huge triggers, an episode of self harm, brutal nightmares, panic and anxiety attacks so bad I have to leave certain buildings, I am not only thinking about a world without me but how to commit suicide.

My life honestly in “real eyes” is not that bad at all. I actually have it fairly easy right now but on the inside I am screaming. My eyes lust for my own blood, my brain thinks any man will hurt me, my body shakes and cringes because I feel like I am about to pounced upon. My hands scratch and pull at my own disgusting fat body. I cry hot tears, my chest gets these sharp knife like stabbing pains ever so often that bring me to my knees and then I go numb.

I enter in the haze. It is not a daydream, it is not a sleep, it is not anything. It just is numb. I need her help and for 3 weeks I have been stuck in this haze longing to get out.

 

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Boiling Water

Sorry I have been gone for awhile. I needed a break. I have lots of triggers coming up, anxiety yet again but this post will be more so of a “rant”.

I am so sick and tired of holding everything in. I wish I could just let it all out. I don’t understand why just because she refuses to see how it is her fault or mentally ill that she can’t own up to all the crap she has put me through. I found out some new information that has brought up this rage from inside of me. I spoke about my attack in the Tree’s Secret blog and found out that all these years she has blamed me for what happened. I was only 10 years old! I don’t put it past her now that I know how she is but I am done showing compassion for right now. I want her to answer to all the crap she put me through.

I am so angry even now just typing about it. Why do I have to suffer in silence? Why do I have to not say anything and turn the other cheek? I have never said one ill word to her in years and it is taking a toll.

Now there is another situation at hand, not with her but with someone else. This woman has a tender heart, sweet nature but is always around. I am a newly wed without having the pleasure of living with just my husband. I am sick and tired of sharing him, not having any privacy, daily interruptions and disruptions. I know they are so sweet, have provided so much for us and we are forever grateful to them…. It has been years that this has been going on and I am starting to get fed up. I have never spoken on this subject ever.

I do not have the heart to. I don’t want to come across as attacking but her thinking pattern is so different than mine- she forces it to be her way. I do not understand why subtle changes bother me so much. Just yesterday a subtle change was made and that made me fly off the handle (in private of course).

I do not like confrontation but yet I create so much of it within my self. I strongly wanted to cut yesterday. I know I need help, I know I am mentally unstable at times of extreme stress or triggers. I go to my therapist today and I am going to see if she can teach me some tools to calm myself down.

I guess overall I just feel like I cannot communicate how I feel to the people I need to, so as a result I stuff it down inside. I am so tired of stuffing. I want to be a happy, easy going, roll with the punches type of person but I am going through so much right now- I don’t see a way out besides self harm. The nightmares are continuing at times, the triggers are worse and I want things to be different.

The Changed Dream

I nudged my husband as I woke up in an internal panic. I just had another rape dream. The fear feels so real- that scares me more than anything else. Here I am up at 4am- (the time is always wrong when my posts are published) blogging about it to hopefully “deal” with it effectively. I want to let myself experience it instead of blocking it out.

This dream was different from all the others. I have never had deception. When I do have dreams about rape they are very violent and already in the process of happening when my dreaming begins. I am forced to do things and endure things and the situation, people, setting and abuse always changes.

In this dream I was outside & behind of the building where I go for counseling. There was a TV on at the edge of the sidewalk, it was displaying some movie (kinda like Wal-Mart TVs in the Entertainment Department). When I started to watch it no one was around or parked near me. I remember smiling at the TV and enjoying myself. I can’t remember what was on that I liked so much. After a couple minutes of watching the TV, something had caught my eye.

The way the back of the building is setup in my dream is that a sidewalk wraps all the way around the building. There is also a wrap around parking lot that is fenced in by concrete on both sides. Behind the building and past the parking lot there is an exit road that will lead into a neighborhood. The building is in the middle of downtown. The only way cars can park is along each side of the building facing away from the sidewalk near the concrete walls. There wasn’t any car parked directly behind the building because it was an open lot leading to dumpsters, other houses and the exit road.

I noticed to my left that there was a maroon Chevy Silverado (1994 model) parked beside the side walk on the other side. It was the only car parked on that side of the building and in that manner. It was very odd. I walk along the sidewalk and notice a young man talking with a woman. She was now walking away from him and up towards the front of the building out of sight. I didn’t get to see her face or hear what they were talking about. I stopped at the corner of the sidewalk about 12-15 feet away from him when he noticed me.

He turned to look at me. His hair was thick, black and combed back. He was dressed well, blue jeans and a tan/brown jacket. His glasses were a bit bigger then his face. The young man’s demeanor was unconfident. He nervously fidgeted as soon as he looked at me. It was almost as if females noticing him made him uncomfortable. He behaved and spoke in a way that would be classified as “nerdy”.

I offered him some friendly advice and told him he couldn’t park his truck like that- along the sidewalk. His truck was dusty but I couldn’t see inside it. After I politely informed him of his parking, he started walking towards me. His voice was shaky, nervous and a bit “high” all in which did not seem threatening. He wasn’t that close to me when he told me why he was parked like that.

“You see,” he began to explain. “I like to come back here from time to time to make sure everything is okay. I was just helping my aunt out.” I nodded my head, believing his “Good Samaritan” behavior. His shoulders were slumped and his smile was awkward and gaudy. He stopped walking because I was now walking away from him towards the exit road. I smiled at him but regretted getting attention from this awkward guy. I don’t know exactly why at this point- I honestly thought in my dream he was that guy that wouldn’t get the picture that you weren’t “into him”. Kinda like Steve with Laura Winslow on the show Family Matters.

I continued walking slowly away from him when I heard him say one last thing. “You know there was been a lot of crime on women here.” I stopped and looked at him. My eyes met his and my chest got tight again. The pause seemed like minutes. He un-slumped his shoulders showing off his muscular build and his eyes went from harmless to predator. I looked him in the eyes and then my eyes went to his pants. I knew in that moment he wasn’t a “Good Samaritan”- he wanted to rape me and he was going to get me.

He knew that I knew that’s what he wanted. I nervously smiled at him and began to walk faster. He did as well. I tucked my hair behind my ears and started to jog. He jogged too. Then I knew I for sure he wanted me. His pace quickened again. It became an all out sprint as he came for me faster and faster. My heart raced, my legs moved, my mind panicked. He was going to force himself on me once he caught me. I could feel his hands already on me as I ran.

 

I woke up. When I woke up I had fear in my mind but intense pleasure vibrations in my body. That doesn’t make any sense to me to be mentally terrified but yet physically yearning? As a laid there half asleep- all different kinds of scenarios went rushing through my head. They were of him catching me, ripping my clothes off, stabbing me, beating me and forcing me. I remember his small tattoo on the inside of his groin. I imagined being left for dead.

The most interesting part was what happened next. All the abuse was in flashes, my awake mind was making up the possibilities. But in the midst of all the trauma it was all completely wiped from my mind. I was back into my dream. I was running away from him- where I had been left before the flashes started. I was running fast but he was closing the distance on me. I just needed to run to the exit road and down to the neighborhood.

I finally got there and instead of him grabbing me at the road- he was grabbed. He was rushed in by multiple police and hand cuffed. I have never ever been able to alter a dream but in this one  I did. I took the power back. I was in control. After he was cuffed the police thanked me for my work and that they had been working to catch this guy after multiple women came forward explaining who their rapist was and how he deceived them. I was happy to help and I smiled as I saw the guy get taken away in the cop car.

*                       *                        *

When I nudged my husband- I wanted to feel safe. He put his arms around me and that helped. The actual thought of physical abuse and violence didn’t bother me. What traumatized me was the deception. Even though it was all a dream/nightmare- I will never forget the eyes that went from harmless to predator in an instant. The deception is what paralyzes me.

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