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/
anincidentallife.com 