Author Archives: A Year in the Life of PTSD

A Move

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This was one of those very bad days. Let’s be clear, it was a historically bad day in the history of my bad days, and that’s saying quite a bit. Where to begin? Perhaps with some context …

Moving, any kind of moving has been a trigger for me for the longest time. I don’t know if it has to do with my childhood fear of homelessness, as that’s the only clue I have as why moving is so upsetting to me. Moving a residence, an office cube, even a bedroom is triggering for me. I wish it weren’t. Honestly, I do. Truly, I feel like a nut case that needs to be put away because this is such an issue for me.

So, where am I moving? Out of the state? Across the street? No, that would actually make a bit of sense. I am moving from one office cube to another on a different floor, and I was a basket case today about it, an authentic loca woman. I’ve been freaky friday stressed about it with all the packing and distraction from my work. However, today was the breaking point with the discovery that the area that I indicated would be best for me was given to another colleague who was asked if they wanted the very same cube. Yes, for normal people this would not be a breaking point. I get that completely. However, when I saw that I was sitting right in the middle in the midst of racket and noise I just fell apart. I felt disregarded and dismissed.

I started to get that feeling like I was in a tunnel of which I could not escape. I’ll spare you the details except to say that I melted and cried and felt floaty.

I wish I could have remembered how to do the tapping technique during this mess, and a mess it sure was.

We just have to get though this. I can get through this.

I have to convince myself that moving my cube is not homelessness. It’s not. It’s just moving from one work space to another. That is all. Nothing more.

Empty

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So, we go from awesomeness to stress! Such is my life, unfortunately. I’ve got that freaky anxious feeling today that I can’t shake, and it seems like I can’t shake any opportunity to start freaking out: work assignments, money, etc. It feels like my insides want to take off and run. Even when I’m sitting trying to relax I feel like I am tight, unable to relax.

I got teary at work talking about my work load. We have to move out of our spaces on the 4th floor and move up to the 5th floor. Moving, any kind of move, is historically not a good thing for me. It doesn’t help that I already don’t have enough time to get my work done. Everyone is trying to be supportive at work, but still, I got teary. I just feel like a dope.

Those feelings are back, the feelings of worthlessness and futility. I should stop typing because this is hardly inspiring. As of yet, I have no readers. But when I do get readers this isn’t exactly the type of drivel most people want to read.

Searching my brain for something worthwhile to say, and I am coming up empty, which is how I feel – empty.

Fighting ideation. That’s bad bad news. It’s the unwelcome guest at the inn.

I hope tomorrow is better.

A New Psychiatrist

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All day today I had a huge amount of fear going into my appointment today with the new psychiatrist. I shook. I imagined getting under the desk at work, and staying there for good. I smelled my lotions again and again and again in attempts to ground myself before my appointment. I was such a wreck that I started talking about the wrong topic during a meeting right before my appointment.

I race over to the new psychiatrist, who is 45 minutes away from work. As I fly into his office he comes out to greet me, and I all I can think of is that he looks exactly like Doc from Back to the Future with the same wild white hair and absent-minded persona. I’m second guessing the choice to come see him as I enter his office. There’s stuff everywhere, and the place has this old, dusty feel to it. I just want to leave, and the moment I think that Doc says to me, “Just breathe. You’re fine.”

He said it not in a condescending manner, but in an empathetic way that got my attention. He turned to me and said, “What brings you to see me?” I started getting that floaty, shaky feeling, and I asked, ” Can I tell you in Cliff Notes version?”

And he responded by saying, “Whatever way that will convey the information to me so that I can help you is fine.”

But, even with Cliff Notes version I immediately ran into trouble with the first few words. He finally stopped me, and asked me to rate my level of stress with 10 being the highest, and 1 being the lowest. I quickly rated myself a 10.

He then stopped me, and had me do the “tapping” technique that I also knew as the Emotional Freedom Technique. I had heard of it, but I was skeptical about it for no good reason. He had me tapping certain acupressure points while I repeated phrases he gave me such as, “I love and accept myself.” I know there was more, but I don’t recall the other phrases.

Believe it or not, I was able to get down to a 4 doing the tapping on myself. I was actually able to start to tell him about the trauma that led me to his office. I didn’t finish the story because we spent so much time tapping. But it was miraculous that I left that office in such a calm state. That has never happened in all the time I’ve ever had to convey that story. And, that my friends, is real progress.