Worn out…

My tolerance for stress is shrinking by the moment. 

I found out I’m only scheduled to work customer service this week, and all I want to do is hide and cry. I’m struggling with the thought of simply calling out for my shifts… 

I used to be able to do at least one CSR shift a week. Now I panic if they schedule me for anything at all. It’s easier to work with the dogs; less emotionally demanding, and they help me balance throughout the shift. There’s none of that doing customer service… 😦

Trying hard to balance and not crumble into a sobbing mess. I really need to work up the courage to ask not to be scheduled for csr, even if the only reason I give them is the stress of L’s treatment.

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It feels weird; like part of me is still living back in the space that had me hospitalized so often. I get these little glimpses of remembering being in the hospital, and it feels so real in that flash of a moment. The other times, it feels like I’m living in both times at once, only I’m separated from the past by this frosted window. I know the gist of what’s happening, and i can kinda feel it, but it’s distant and away at the same time. It’s almost like knowing and faintly hearing someone watch a movie in the next room; i can hear it, i know the movie enough to mostly know what’s happening moment to moment, but it’s still something I’m not directly experiencing in the moment. The flashes of memory are like walking through the room for a moment and catching parts of it as I pass the tv. I’m not totally paying attention, but I notice it…

Yeah… kinda like that…

I’ve been remembering the various hospitalizations since Wednesday when Dr C brought up the drawing I left with her a few weeks ago… it’s not all restricted to the content of the drawing; its just all of the experiences mashed together. It’s not linear. It doesn’t really make linear sense, but it’s all memories of those times…

L had an unusually late chemo today, and there were a few times i really had to work to ground myself. I kept panicking that i was there because i was locked up, not because i was supporting L through chemo… being the only ones in the room, and it having gotten dark intensified the fears. 

Psych hospitalizations are really dehumanizing. It didn’t matter that you likely already feel like crap; the process and experience make it all that much worse… 

I dunno… 

I hate when all of this comes up when i can’t actually process it for several days. I don’t know what to do with it. It pulls me in, even when i don’t want it to. I know I’ve been distant and spacey a lot today. I’ve been having a lot of trouble seperation from the memories. My brain is living in both times at once, and it’s distracting (even if i feel like I’m mostly in the present, it’s difficult to concentrate when the past is so “there” but indecipherable…).

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Vertigo sucks.

…but i think I’ve mentioned that before. 

Everything is slowly spinning backwards and to the right. 

I’ve tried one “fix” for it (half-somersault by Dr Carol Foster), and it helped a bit for a few minutes, but now the merry-go-round has picked up again. I need to try the Epley Maneuver, just have to find the video so i remember how to do it… this one is a bit dry, but concise enough for my attention span. 

There’s several other videos on YouTube, as well as some precautionary stuff (like make sure it’s benign positional orthostatic vertigo (bpov) before writing it off and trying a home fix.  I’m pretty sure mine is,  as I’ve had multiple scans done when it first occurred, and nothing abnormal was found. Just make sure to check with a doctor if this is the first time you’ve experienced it, or if you’ve never had further testing done to rule out other, nastier stuff. Also check with your doc if it’s happening more frequently or severely than it has previously.

I really hope this resolves before the week’s activities need to happen. L caught whatever it was I had this past week, so if I’m too dizzy to drive, nothing will get done, including doctor’s appointments (and laundry, which has taken a huge hit since L stated her treatment)…


Talking about level of dissociation (for the first time… again…?)

My level of dissociation came up again in therapy.  She mentioned DID. Apparently she’s mentioned it before, but I just filed it away. Deep away. 

I cringed at her labeling it DID, so she called them “ego states”.

I dunno. I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around it all week…

I feel like I need to reach out to everyone I’ve ever worked with to find some corroboration… did anyone else notice the intensity of the dissociation? Did I mention anything about the abuse? Was there any inkling of anything other than major depression and anxiety? Did any of the 18+ therapists I worked with over the years try to clue me in and I just forget? 

There were times I remember being told there was more behind my symptoms than just the domestic violence, but no one could tell me what.  There were large chunks of time I don’t remember, but I  also don’t have any info on what went on during those times… 

I have a few records of what happened while I was “out” and hospitalized, but they aren’t very detailed…

I dunno. 

I feel like I need someone else to say “yes, this is what we’ve seen all along”; not because I don’t trust Dr C’s assessment, but because I don’t trust what I’ve presented to her… it feels like I’m exaggerating everything, and the words I use give the wrong impression. It feels like I’ve fabricated it all for some reason I don’t really understand.

I dunno…


Anxiety and stress in my body

I’ve had an “off” cardiac history for most of the time I can remember.  I’ve seen cardiologists, worn monitors for varying times, but nothing ever gets recorded or noticed as problematic when they are actuality searching for things. 

When I was hospitalized, tech’s were constantly either retaking my vitals, or sending a nurse in to check it. 

My average resting heart rate runs about 95bpm (i believe the “normal” for women my age is somewhere significantly lower than that). 

No one’s been able to give me a solid reason, though the more research i do into ptsd and trauma, the more i realize it’s likely that. 

Anyway, this week’s average had been in the 120’s. My doctor noted it when i went in for having sent my back into spasms on Sunday, but quickly dismissed it a a result of the coffee i was finishing… i should have mentioned to her the “poprocks” in my chest several times this past week, but I’m no good at bringing up something other than what she’s focused on in the moment… it kinda feels like someone lit a sparkler or trick candle inside my chest. It lasts for a few minutes, then fades. It comes more frequently as my stress levels go up. It’s not bad though, since it normally feels like a flopping fish…

Anyway, no doctor is really sure what to do with it all. I’m finally figuring out it is highly correlated with my stress and anxiety levels. This week, not only was i pretty triggered, but i injured my back, and i was fighting off something that drained all my energy (though that energy drain seems to correlate much higher with my tachycardia, just not sure if one causes the other, or both are responses to something else)… it’s not really surprising my pulse has been really high all week (if it ever sustains at about 250bpm for more than a few minutes, I’ll take something). 

Today’s therapy was highly emotionally taxing, as were the earlier flashbacks… 

(I clearly had something else in mind to write, but i was interrupted, and now have long forgotten what it would be).


Oh. I guess that makes more sense…

Dr C managed to piece together for me that today’s flashbacks were probably related to a duckboy anniversary i never really paid attention to: he stalked me at my college freshman year right around thanksgiving… i knew it was an event in our relationship, but i never really thought that it would cause ripples so far forward.  she hypothesized that, since it was finally the last interaction with him, it stuck with me. 

I guess it makes sense then that today’s flashback involved him… 


Flashbacks (**trigger**) 

I was laying in bed, trying to avoid waking up, when a memory of duckboy hit me out of nowhere. 

**trigger** I could feel his hand holding my wrists above my head. I could feel his crushing weight on top of my body. I could feel his fumbling hand. I could feel his slimey, sloppy kiss, his grinding body… and everything else he did that time. **trigger**

It was all condensed into about a minute or less, but my body is still tingling. There are still echos of the memory…

He used to insist it wasn’t sexual because we had our clothes on. I only resisted so many times before giving in. It was always easier to get it over with than to try to squirm away from under his almost 300lb frame…

For the longest time (we’re talking almost 20 years), I was adamant on only calling it “very insistent”. Whomever was hearing it tried to rephrase it as assault, and I would correct them. I refused to put that label on what he did (partially for his sake, partially for mine)… I had flashbacks at the time, but I wouldn’t remember them after they passed (or even understand that I had one). It wasn’t until my long bout of hospitalizations, where medical records contained notes of me crying and trying to explain the memories, that I finally realized something more than just the memories of my parents fighting was bothering me… Dr C was the first person who heard me admit that what duckboy did might have been rape. I was still terrified to tell her any details, but at the same time, I started desperately trying to write down what I remembered in the flashbacks while they were happening. I knew if I didn’t write in the moment, I’d forget it again as soon as it faded. 

The first time I wrote it out, I was journaling on my phone. It was the early days of smartphones though, before apps saved what you were doing should you be interrupted. A call buzzed in and erased everything I had tried to write down… I took that as a sign that no one needed to know the details. I also switched to trying to capture it on paper. I was anxious someone would find it, read it, and know the things I had done, but i really wanted to be able to read whatever it was I kept remembering and forgetting… It was maybe a year later before I tried to bring up the content of my flashbacks again in treatment. 

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I was hoping writing about the flashback this morning would help it fade faster (it sometimes works that way), but I’m still feeling echos of memories. I guess my body wants to make me listen. Stuff had been stirring all week, but none of it had been this explicit; there were no real defined cognitive memories, just body sensations. Now, even the echos have snippets of whole memories attached to them… I guess its good group was cancelled and I was able to get individual instead. I don’t want to have to keep sitting with this all weekend.