No lies. I am just going to tell it like it is. Last night, I had a total meltdown. Many of you know I struggle with post traumatic stress due to something (or things) difficult (of a sexual nature) that happened to me when I was teenager. Many of you don't know that. Now you do. It was this time of year that it occurred and I have a lot of issues with flashbacks and emotional struggles. Last night was no exception. I had a big inspection at work yesterday and while that went well, it had been a stressful day with not a lot of sleep. What you may not realize is that even when I'm doing quite well, I'm only one step away from not doing well. There is no straw that broke the camel's back situation. Quite simply, one straw and I'm broken. I am emotionally fragile, functioning since the miscarriage, but still dealing with quite a bit of emotional circumstances.
So last night, Chris comes home from work. It's an early day for him. He's home around 4:30 PM. That's fine and dandy except he's had a rough day and is burned out. He is not mean to me but he is not exactly joyful either. After an hour of silence in our house, I start to spaz. I want to hurt myself. I take a walk. It doesn't help. We get into a bit of a disagreement, I head upstairs, and finally, I cut myself. I've wanted to do this for an hour and a half. I can't hold off any longer. I don't cut myself often anymore. It's not like what it was when I was a teenager. The problem is that I tend to alternate between cutting and purging. I need to try to break the eating disorder as well as the self-injury habit. I know that. Anyhow, I make a few lines across my upper forearm. I set down the blade I'm using and then thirty seconds later Chris walks in. He says "I'm home from work" and comes to hug me. I know what's he is trying to do is say that he wanted to make his homecoming a little nicer and be more loving to me. But I look at him and now I'm hysterical. I tell him he's too late and I've already cut myself. Anyhow, this leads into a deep and long argument in which I suddenly regress to thirteen year old Shannon and then five year old Shannon. We finally get through my attitude in which I just melt down into a traumatized and terrified teenager so is covering her out of control feelings with irritability. We deal with the immediate issue at hand and I call J, my therapist, and leave her a voicemail. Then we go to bed.
This morning a whole 'nother slew of issues come up and I have a meltdown again. Chris walks out of our bedroom frustrated. I call J again and this time she answers. We agree that we need to up my medication dosage and both of us agree to get in touch with my doctor. Dr. F. agrees to double the meds and I start taking two this morning instead of one. J says that I will feel better even sooner because I've already been taking this medication so it won't take as long to take effect. I hope she's right. Granted, I am starting to feel a little better already and it's only been hours so we'll just see. There's just so much going on in my head right now. Losing Samantha, the traumatic sexual events......these can be overwhelming coupled with Seasonal Affective Disorder. My lab is in a basement too! No sunlight down here which doesn't help.
Anyhow, for now, I trek on. Please keep me in your prayers.
~Shannon
