It's been a difficult 4 weeks, in an already intensely heartwrenching 8 months. I'm not sure how I've survived. Probably kdramas and music.
I have acute PTSD at the moment. It's not the first episode I've had but I was a kid for the first long-term case. Now my PTSD - 1996, ep2 - 2004 is still in affect and combining with PTSD 2016. I feel like there should be a limit to how many traumas you process at once.
Anyway, PTSD is bad enough. But since I already have panic disorder and suicidal ideation, there are times my PTSD induce a panic attack or trigger suicidal thoughts.
And now that it is officially November my Seasonal Affective Disorder is kicking in. I managed school with my birth month depression (September) and summer depression faded as the month went on and ignored the PTAD. October gave a bit of a break and I thought I could make it through the month without prolonged downs.
But my solution to PTSD and family tension was moving states in the coming months. Starting over new somewhere that I haven't got 20 years of traumatic memories and the key thing being away from the family which is currently causing my trauma. I was supposed to be somewhere new to explore life as Purple Owl.
It was hard to decide to move. To leave everything and everyone I've known my entire life. But my family needed a change and I decided I'd be the sacrifice. Plus I have relatives and friends out there. I've stayed for 3 months before. I could stay for a few years until I'm my own person.
Deciding to move was hard. Deciding when to move was even more difficult. I knew back in April that moving was a possibility. I wasn't done with the education I wanted. So I signed up for my last set of classes. When school began in August, I know I'd be leaving after the semester ended.
Do I work primary school's winter break, 3 weeks, and watch a fun child that I've know since before he was born? - Yes. I want to.
Do I leave in January?
Do I take time off for the month of January and stay home to take care of things?
- Meet with my psych to set 3 month medication delivery and a system to keep him, perhaps through phone sessions.
- Meet with my therapist and discuss the fine tuned details of moving.
- Follow up with the sleep study results.
- Follow up with my neurologists about migraine medication.
- Fully pursue a late autism spectrum assessment.
- Fully pursue an eating disorder assessment.
- Complete my driving lessons and get the license, the fear my PTSD has eclipsed but is still waiting.
- Complete the process to get a cheap car with my family's assistance *yay for owing people things*
- I ought to go back to my orthopedist. And tell him that I gave up on PT because it was fitting in my schedule but still do the exercises occasionally. See how bad the injury is now and what I should do next.
- I ought to keep my dentist appointment for February (darn 6 month ahead cleaning planning)
So I guess not January or the first week of February.
킅. Fin. The End. Right?
Wrong.
I'd wrapped my head around the changes. I was looking forward to being with people I've only had Instagram connection for 3 years. I could picture myself meeting a friend's husband, getting to know the area, being in those IG post instead of just seeing friends. I'm discovering what my certificates would mean in a new state, if I can get permits and licensing. I was even a little excited to go back to school for any requirements I was lacking. I knew my nephew would be losing his 2nd caregiver and safety but he would adapt.
But out of nowhere.....
I was told by a very beloved family that they would be deeply affected. And they'd love to care for me if I'm willing.
Like, whoa. What am I supposed to do with this information? How am I suppose to react to mattering this much?
No one has actually <b>wanted<b/> me before, not like this. The only thing that comes close is my relative offering her care so my family ties don't rip apart. The next closest is my mom making time for me, her 5th and only unplanned child, while she was dying for 4 years. But even all that was shaded by PTSD 1 & 2. It wasn't "my life would suck without you". It was "I'll try to give you a shot at life." Necessary for me but now I'm told I am necessary to others? 😢
Came close to crying during the conversation but I held it in. And played games for a few hours. But when I got home it fully dawned on me what had happened. What had been offered - an option rather than a sentencing.
I don't have to leave my under 12 months nephew. I don't have to pop in all the time, over satellite or in person, to ensure that I'm not forgotten. I could live outside of the house from him without living outside of the state.
I wouldn't have to pack for airplane, train, shipping travel. It hadn't been decided yet.
I could finish growing up where I started, where I always imagined I would. But....
The cause is still present. I'd risk being triggered every time I opened my front door. That made me sob uncontrollably. And when my siblibg/roommate asked why that was so bad, I said "<b>the thought of</b> running into a person, especially family, should bring on shaking, trouble breathing, trouble focusing, crying". And that was just the thought of it.
So they said "it sounds like the decision is made. Moving so you don't have that fear." Then came all the regret, anger, and resentment that I was the one who had to change my life.
It didn't put me any close to deciding. I forced myself to attend the classes I could the next two days and had therapy. Which just added to the noise in my head.
Completely wiped by 11/9, I slept on and off. I was too depressed to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. Ditched school, didn't eat, didn't take my meds, barely moved unless I had my nephew. My sibling told me to eat and I had a small snack. Once everyone went to bed though, it hit me. I was so dizzy even lounging that getting up the next day, still fasting, would be extremely difficult. So at 2 am I forced some rice porridge down my throat.
I'm still checking my weight. I'm still in a safe zone. I'm not in danger of being underweight and malnourished as before.
However if I think about all this too long, my ARFID relapses. Food is disgusting, undesired, a waste of time and energy. I can sit at home all day and forget to eat, no matter how many times I enter the kitchen.
I'm afraid of my PTSD. Things were starting to be manageable but now the cause of PTSD is encircling me and leaving all my disorders to fend for themselves. And they can't be trusted. I'm considering about eating rehabilitation so I'm not thinking about the decision, the cause or my disorders being free. A time to learn how to eat again, in peace.
Is it good to plan a rehabilitation visit? Is it stealing someone's spot or postponing the help you need because of timing?
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