Hi! I have no idea what to say. There's so much I want to say, and so much I'm afraid to say. I guess I'll stick to the basics.
I had a nervous breakdown 2 summers ago, and my husband took me to the ER. There, I was told, after a few hours talking with a crisis counsellor, that I had PTSD stemming from an abusive childhood. It was a shock. I'd always (since mid-teens) been depressed and often thought of suicide. But this was the first time anyone mentioned PTSD or just general anxiety disorder to me. And it made my life as a whole make a lot more sense.
I started meds (anti-depression and anti-anxiety) and tried to get back to my life. But instead of getting better, things got worse. Last spring I quit my job and have hardly left the house since. I can't afford therapy, but I did manage to get into a 10 week out-patient program at the hospital, but I've no idea when that will start (dr said it could be months).
With the holidays so close, I'm spiralling. Eating too much, sleeping too much. Having rapid thoughts, remembering bad things from years ago, thinking crazy things like wanting to smash my face into the computer monitor.
I no longer have contact with my mother or brother. Only rarely talk to my father. My husband is all I have. He's leaving Boxing Day to spend time with his family. I feel alone. Angry. Sad. Anxious. Fat. Frustrated.
I don't want this life. I imagined so much more for myself. I feel as though I'm always on the verge of tears, but not able to actually cry. Please tell me that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Already, I am wanting to delete this. Or apologize for being such a whiner. The clock in my chest is winding tighter and tighter. I'm worried you will think I'm faking or being a troll. I'm worried that by saying that, I am condemning myself as a troll. But I'm not. I just don't know how to ask for help. When I do, it feels wrong. It feels like I am being over-sensitive and that I should just keep it to myself and, as my mother told me the last time I spoke to her, "Get over it."
This post is a mess.
I had a nervous breakdown 2 summers ago, and my husband took me to the ER. There, I was told, after a few hours talking with a crisis counsellor, that I had PTSD stemming from an abusive childhood. It was a shock. I'd always (since mid-teens) been depressed and often thought of suicide. But this was the first time anyone mentioned PTSD or just general anxiety disorder to me. And it made my life as a whole make a lot more sense.
I started meds (anti-depression and anti-anxiety) and tried to get back to my life. But instead of getting better, things got worse. Last spring I quit my job and have hardly left the house since. I can't afford therapy, but I did manage to get into a 10 week out-patient program at the hospital, but I've no idea when that will start (dr said it could be months).
With the holidays so close, I'm spiralling. Eating too much, sleeping too much. Having rapid thoughts, remembering bad things from years ago, thinking crazy things like wanting to smash my face into the computer monitor.
I no longer have contact with my mother or brother. Only rarely talk to my father. My husband is all I have. He's leaving Boxing Day to spend time with his family. I feel alone. Angry. Sad. Anxious. Fat. Frustrated.
I don't want this life. I imagined so much more for myself. I feel as though I'm always on the verge of tears, but not able to actually cry. Please tell me that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Already, I am wanting to delete this. Or apologize for being such a whiner. The clock in my chest is winding tighter and tighter. I'm worried you will think I'm faking or being a troll. I'm worried that by saying that, I am condemning myself as a troll. But I'm not. I just don't know how to ask for help. When I do, it feels wrong. It feels like I am being over-sensitive and that I should just keep it to myself and, as my mother told me the last time I spoke to her, "Get over it."
This post is a mess.
