Category: BiPolar II

Complex PTSD

Published on by cmglife

I have a story to tell about last Christmas. That’s the simple part.

What leads up to the reason of this story is complicated and to give all the details it might turn into a novel, so I’ll try to only give what’s necessary.  I’ve been living this story up until now for the last four years and hiding from it.  I’ve been too afraid to write about it in case it triggered an emotional collapse.  I’ve already been having those in real life!

Basically, I’ve been ostracized by my oldest daughter, my youngest son and my sister since my divorce.  I used to be the central person in our family and always planned great get togethers, especially Christmas.  I’m going to write the stories when I can. You can read them if you like. You need to know this to understand what happened last Christmas and why it directly relates to it.

Here’s the current story:

A casual comment from a friend of “What are you doing for Christmas?” And my response of “I host Christmas Breakfast, that is the time I am allotted”, caused a tsunami of emotion. To name all of them is impossible. I lied saying I was sick and barely got to my car without anyone noticing. I was sobbed all the way home.

Where was it coming from?  I did the usual things. Distraction, tv shows I’ve watched million times in the background, etc., took my meds and went to bed early.

In the morning, fine, but worried.  Then it hit me again out of left field and once again sobbing for 15 minutes. So hard I had to hold myself up by the banister.

I was terrified the ketamine has stopped working.  All I could think of was, “and then what?” there is nothing else.

Sunday was the same and Monday I got up enough courage to call my psychiatrist to get in before he went on vacation.  

On Tuesday my psychiatrist listened to my desperation about the ketamine. He listened and asked his questions and said it wasn’t the ketamine, but a ptsd reaction to this time of year. 

I said that couldn’t be right I was going to have the best Christmas since 2016!  My daughter was coming that week with the kids. My two sons were coming on Christmas morning and maybe the youngest was going to stay until 5.

He said all those years are still there though, it’s impossible to keep the memories at bay when I am already so vulnerable.  I believed him and after accepting this I got better every day.

I’ve always been ashamed of my PTSD reactions. I hadn’t seen anyone murdered, I haven’t been raped or been in a war.  I felt trauma, but where had it come from? Since I was little, I would have an array of reactions. I had agoraphobia from age 9 until 12. Fog, uncontrollable crying, burning in my chest, unable to catch my breath,  etc. Triggered by all sorts of things. Fear, getting in trouble, doing something wrong, etc.  All my life and even now I feel like I’m constantly preparing for something to jump out at me.

I’m actually glad it happened because when it happened again five days later I recovered much quicker knowing what was happening.  This time my whole family had got together at my dad’s house for boxing day and didn’t invite me.  I found out by accident, thus another shock causing it.  I did have a hard time just writing that to be honest.

Eventually my therapist diagnosed me with complex PTSD which is more complicated because it is caused over a long period of trauma.  Mine would be my home life as a child, catholic school and my ex husband. It was also caused by the condition itself by having to deal with the reactions causing more trauma. People with mental health problems can feel trauma from events where others don’t.

It’s time to move on and write a happier story (and start a little EMDR again)!

https://www.nhs.uk/mental-health/conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/complex/

Ketamine Infusion Update

Published on by cmglife

I know I said last time I posted I would keep up on the progress the ketamine infusions was making to my Treatment Resistance Depression (TRD). I’m sorry if you were curious and I didn’t.

I think it maybe because it is working so miraculously that I didn’t feel the need to write tragic feelings of desperation that I so often did.

I hardly write in my journal anymore except for interesting things that happen during the day.

I’m still suffering from PTSD reactions, ketamine on its own hasn’t helped. My therapist has agreed to go with me next time and guide me through some of the events that still trigger them. Research shows that it is also very helpful to talk through the events during the euphoria therefore being able to reframe them.

I’ve attached my calendar that I check off daily. when I’m feeling not depressed.

If it’s a little worse for wear, I think that’s a good sign that I’m actually using it everyday.

Back to the End

Published on by cmglife

It’s been 2 1/2 years since I’ve posted. I don’t know why, I thought about it every once in a while. I thought  about how good it used to do for me and why I couldn’t do it anymore. 

Maybe it was living with bouts of depression day to day was infiltrating even that. I’ve been dangling by a thread for a long time. How did I keep my grip? And more importantly why did I keep it? Sharing what was happening in my life was the original reason I started my blog to figure out my life and emotions with a Bipolar 2 diagnosis.

I’m able to write again because I found something amazing. Before I began to write again, I forced myself to read back through the entries that prevented me from writing. I read the latest three and that was all I could take. Reading the posts and remembering the pain of depression and hopelessness was too much.

In September 2021, my psychiatrist diagnosed me with TRD (Treatment Resistant Depression). That name alone caused a new degree of hopelessness. Experts say that a person needs
to try at least four different treatments before depression can be truly considered treatment resistant. I’ve tried five, maybe more, my doctor didn’t have to root through the 11-year file he has on me to come to this conclusion. Not only antidepressants alone, but combinations like Seroquel or Abilify.

So here is the amazing thing, I started ketamine infusions March 18. I had my 3rd one on March
25, last Friday. That makes three. For the first time I’m feeling a difference. I am a “slow starter” according to the doctor so that is why it took the third ketamine infusion to start to make a difference.

What does “feeling a difference” mean to me? Happy, for only three days I’ve noticed a real happy, not a manic happy. Even just a taste of this emotion that I haven’t had for so long is like a drink of water when you are thirsty. I am sharper, more focused.

I’m going to keep writing about this experience with hope. I haven’t had hope for a very long time and it’s nice to welcome it back.

Now for something serious.

Published on by cmglife

It’s been a year since my oldest daughter has let me see my beloved grandchildren. She just moved back to town, an eight minute drive that I have only made once.

During a series of unfortunate events, she has ostracized me, banished me from her life. Only in my imagination and deep down believing it to be true I deserve this complete rejection, loss and humiliation.

I can’t go on right now because even after a year I can only keep this at bay before it envelops me once again in complete despair.

Simplicity…. Could it be that simple?

Published on by cmglife

I’ve not been able to write about my life in a long time.  I realized that when I wrote down what was going on it brought it all back.  It turns out I am still a master at not thinking about things when I stay busy.  That sounds like a very simple strategy, but it works even better now that the “tricks” I’ve learned over the years are now finally embedded in my brain.  It’s a lot like when we hear repeatedly,”to lose weight, diet and exercise.”  I had decided not to believe that before (me and the people that spend more than a billion dollars on dieting.”  Well, it is true, it’s boring, but it’s true.  Turns out thinking positively, keeping a positive journal (no matter how fake and cheesy if feels in the beginning) works.  Trying very hard and consistently to not dwell on things you cannot fix – works too!

Beginning from my divorce, I’ve slowly lost all the relationships that have been the center of my world. I’m not going to rehash the details, but I will begin to write how I’m dealing with it.

From what I’ve learned so far, simplicity.

A Pig With No Name

Published on by cmglife

In the beginning of my divorce I bought a ceramic pig with wings. It was meant to symbolize how I used to think I could only leave John “when pigs fly”.

I set it on the floor of my car and before I even got home it’s ear had broken off. I glued it back on and again, thought about how it symbolized mending my life. I usually name things, and was waiting for a name to come to me.

Shorty after I moved into my new place I knocked the pig over and his other ear broke off. I didn’t have glue so I used packing tape to fix it temporarily. Again more symbolism for the particular divorce hell I was going through and I was doing my best “taping my life together’

The dog knocked it off about 3 months ago (had thought I’d moved him to a safer place), I taped the ear back on again. I still couldn’t come up with a name.

Last week I was taking a frame off the wall and it fell on the pig and he lost both ears.

So now I have a different view. That pig had become the Dorian Gray of my life. Looking good on the outside, but in reality, rotting, hidden from view. Even fixing him each time didn’t work. And after its last accident and my last post, I think it’s time to get him out of here!

I’ll Take It

Published on by cmglife

Yesterday, I had a student guess my age at 35. Granted, it came from a 13 year old boy, but at 51, I let my self enjoy it for a minute!

Another One of Those First World Problems

Published on by cmglife

I feel complaining about insignificant things and labeling them “FWP” exonerates me from being a whiny spoiled person living in the best place in the world.  I’m also a jaded ex-catholic, so there is already a layer of guilt underneath everything I say and do.  

I want to post this for another reason.  With the hell I’ve been going through for the past year from medication side effects, divorce, being ostracized by my children and doing all of this in a delicate mental condition, I welcome superficial trivial problems. 

Here is one now:

Well, so far this is a very good day! I colored my hair this week from an online hair color boasting it is just like the professional color. I don’t know why I bother. The brown of my hair turned out beautifully but the white came out a light brownish reddish. Anyway……I used the last of my root concealer two days ago (forgot all about covering my roots on Tuesday and was out doing errands for four hours). Luckily I wasn’t aware so had all of the confidence of a good looking person. Back to my roots (pardon the pun) I was even debating wearing one of Allison’s hats to hit the Walgreens early before too many people were there to get a new can of concealer. In the bathroom I took one more last ditch effort, fingers crossed, to look in the bathroom closet.  There it was buried under cold medicine…..half a can!!!  Halejuha!

Dear Life:  please keep bringing on those kind of problems.  I really need a break.  xoxo

Abused Patience Turns to Fury

Published on by cmglife

So much anger.

I was feeling pretty strong against the ex-husband and his girlfriend yesterday morning.

He is trying to pass her off as his roommate.  No one knows what I know about how they were sleeping together a full 6 months before I asked for the divorce.  Even the children seem to have been fooled.  I can’t say anything to anyone because when it is all said and done I’m taking the high road as usual (not willingly believe me).  I Looking back at how outrageously (even for him) his behavior was during that time I believe I was manipulated (AGAIN) into asking for the divorce.

So I checked Facebook to see if I was truly able to handle it.

He was on her page with a selfie of themselves.  Under the comments was a comment from my mother in law saying “Just a couple of kids!”

I was so angry, hurt and other things I can’t even name that I went into a horrible spiral of depression and anxiety.  It was a pretty dark day.

I got up this morning and felt much better.  I tested the memory of yesterday to see if they still held their sting and they did.  Good news for me is not as painful. Then it dawned on me that checking Facebook was in essence breaking the No Contact rule!  That is the real key to recovery and now I have to start all over again! I had 4 whole weeks under my belt.

I’ve been doing EMDR for a whole host of things in the last few months.  When this woman moved into my old house with him I had to see my therapist twice a week for two weeks.  I have sooooo much more work to do.

I hate him.  I hate them.  I haven’t really been able to enjoy any of my freedom from him because he’s still getting to me but on a higher and different level.  When will this get better?  When can I finally feel better?

Its just like you when you try every trick in the book to lose weight and it always comes back to diet and exercise. Time heals all wounds.

Blocking all of them and taking the Facebook app of my phone is a good measure as well.

Beware of him that is slow to anger; for when it is long coming, it is the stronger when comes, and the longer kept. Abused patience turns to fury.

Francis Quarles

Another Horrible Crazy Christmas

Published on by cmglife

This morning I woke up from the worst day of my life during the worst time of my life.  The bright side is that now it cannot get any worse.

On Christmas Eve, my narcissist, soon to be ex-husband pulled out all the classic narcissistic crazy stops.  We had an argument and this time he locked himself in the bathroom pretending to call the police telling them he was afraid of me and didn’t know what I was going to do to him.

The situation was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but see the humor in it. It didn’t help defuse the situation when every time he opened the door I said, “Boo!”

He left the house with a bag of clothes. He inexplicably told me he was afraid I would make something up and call the police on him.  He told his parents and my son that he couldn’t come back to the house unless someone was with him for protection.

Christmas was ruined and it looked like it was my fault. Brilliant move.

My sister was so mad that I had let him bait me again she shouted at me!  I don’t think she has shouted at me since I was 9.

I only have one thing I have to remember in order to get through this nightmare in one piece. Absolutely definitely NO CONTACT!

I can do it.