Friday, July 14, 2017

PTSD

I don't want to write about this, hell, I don't want to even think about it.  But I need to talk about it, I need to release this to the universe, though I know I won't be able to.  I was officially diagnosed with PTSD today, and I think, I know, what caused it.  My health, and almost dying, and abuse.

The easiest to talk about is my health.  I have a rather... cavalier attitude towards my health.  I have Congestive Heart Failure, as well as some lesser, though still serious, medical issues.  I am able to joke about my health, however, and I tend to view it as a minor inconvenience, though it has completely changed my life.  I am on Disability, most physical activity is beyond my reach, I see doctors at least once a month, and I have been in the hospital at least 15 times in the past eight years.  I have also almost died four times.  The last count was medical mistake, infection, pulmonary embolism, and medication reaction.  If you want to include blood clot in heart, you can, but I am on the fence about that.

The one that sticks out to me, the one that is seared into my brain to be honest, was a reaction to a medication.  I have had multiple infections in my life, and I have had multiple doses of antibiotics.  I found out that I am allergic to one.  They had started  the first dose, and I soon realized that something was wrong.  By the time I was able to contact someone, I couldn't breathe.  It is a strange sensation to suffocate, it's a rather slow process.  I don't remember any pain, I just remember the panic.  As my vision began to fade, I remember four words forming in my mind.  It was a small prayer, the only thing I could produce, thy will be done.  I remember giving my life to God, and allowing him to decide my fate.  They decided that it wasn't my time and I gradually began to breathe better.  I was rushed to intensive care soon after.

Abuse.  I don't want to talk about this, I don't.  But starting in my child, and continuing through today, I am being emotionally abused.  I have to say, however, that I love this person dearly, they are a wonderful caring person.  They also were emotionally abused, so this is in no way their fault, as they are just part of a cycle.  And I know that a lot of this is my fault.  I am a burden, I am a financial drain, I am a terrible person, and I can't fault them for wanting to express their frustration (if anyone is reading this please understand that both emotionally and intellectually I know this to be true, so please don't write anything about how "bad" this is.  I deserve all of this).

But I have learned to protect myself.  I try to maintain a happy attitude at all time, as a negative attitude is greated with anger.  I do not talk about my health issues, unless absolutely necessary, as that will lead to anger (if I need to go to the hosiptal, I know that anger will be the first reaction).  I DO NOT talk about my depression because "everyone is depressed, get over it."  I make sure I act male when I am around them, because gender non-conforming behavior leads to anger.  Many things lead to anger, so my best bet is to hide, and not draw attention to myself.

I will say again, I DESERVE THIS!  And the person holds no blame.  But it is killing me, and I wonder how long I can servive.  I hope not long.  God bless

1 comment:

  1. I have been there and I shall not try to convince that you do NOT, in fact deserve this, but no, dearest, you do not. NO ONE *deserves* to be treated beneath contempt. It is kind of you to realize your abusers own brokenness and why-they-do-what-they-do, but also please note this does not *excuse* their behaviour, either. We all are broken, and yes, some more than others; some of us have endured endless and horrible amounts of pain, but that does not give any of us license to blithely go on hurting others.

    But, you know this, of course. Being humble does not mean being a doormat; being forgiving does not mean that it's OK to sit back and be horsewhipped.

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It's 12:43

its 12:43 am and I am not asleep. my brain is fuzzy, yet I'm awake my brain is talking, wondering, dreaming who am I who am I who ...