Tag Archives: Posttraumatic stress disorder

Taking Charge of My Own Roadshow


It’s taken only about a decade and wondering where “I” went to begin putting the pieces back together. It was a case of Dylan Thomas being right, for me literally: I could not go home again, but I tried and ended up very broken.

letting go

The hardest part is acknowledging that I set myself up for the long fall. I can grasp the concept of having a certain respect for my birth parents for being the vessels by which I arrived here. I could not grasp what they found so objectionable as to deeply disrespect my presence.I am beginning to accept that their issues were not my business. The fact is that I do exist and am obliged to live the best life I can. I have not been doing so. The past decade was one of brutality to myself beyond what another could commit.  

At every turn, I chose incorrectly, recklessly and in doing so, I  paid dearly. The Laws of Attraction, as one new friend reminds me, are there for our higher purpose. My own Laws of Attraction were bringing moving through ...tragedy and trouble from all corners and I became mired in my punishment. How can one expect the greatness that is all around to penetrate a prison of our own design? The answer is simple: it cannot. The prison becomes a solitary cell built on victimization and deceit. I became a victim of circumstances and deceived myself as to my part in the building of the cell.Choice was always present. I walked among the living but remained untouched by them. I had all the world to travel the good road but I stayed in the increasingly darkening alleys until the only safety was the cell..or as told by physicians, PTSD and Panic Disorder.

I believe that all emotion, all choice of action come down to two emotions: fear or love. The capacity to live in love has long been lost to that of fear. Fear manifested as judgement, lack of compassion, unkindness to the point of cruelty and a plethora of other negative manifestations…I gave as good as I got and then heaped more upon myself. Lack of compassion for oneself is as egregious as lack of compassion for others. One cannot offer what one does not own.


Love and Fear
Love and Fear (Photo credit: SavingE)

I have turned a corner and begin healing. Instead, I regressed and my world grew smaller, thinking it was me. Then I found the compassion, beginning with myself, as I believe one must. For many years I trusted others…mostly medical providers…to point me the direction of  healing only to be moved  in the opposite direction. Recently, a bell went off in my head. For all the years I wanted me back, I was taking all the wrong roads. “I” was not  to be found inside the blue-green, blue or white pills. Nor was my compassion, a commitment much beyond my own four walls or my soul. That little shaft of light creeping through the crack of my cell was a lifeline and I grabbed it. Soon, I was researching, prying at the door, finding myself stepping out onto the dark paths that led here…and as I took my first tentative steps, I found more light ahead! I kept moving towards it. I was soon at a crossroads and I chose the lighter one finding the tools  I’d been dropping along the way.

I began to research and found that many of my symptoms could be exacerbated by the very medications that were intended to help. After extensive reading and comparisons, I called the prescribing doctor and advised that I wanted to begin the delicate path back by being properly withdrawn from these addictive and dangerous pills. This option, in itself, is apparently a long and very carefully plotted process. Though I had brought this option up before,it was as though I had never mentioned it! I began to feel resentment: that I wasn’t fully apprised of the ramifications; that they could have played a hand in my worsening symptoms; that I may have been better served by being referred to a more specialized provider and, above all, that my previous attempts to discuss  options of stopping these substances had not been heard! I, however, have neither the time nor the luxury for resentment…they could only worsen things. Next, I contacted my family physician to review my current physical challenges as well as to discuss my mental health treatment decisions, She was delighted and helped me find the next turn in my path. I was elated, especially at having some validation of my new decisions.

I look forward to this new path. I am to meet with a new provider, be re-evaluated and then move on to someone who can help me to acquire the coping skills I’ve studied up on, be weaned off the pills that have taken me from a world view to a pinpoint of vision and take the baby steps that will lead me back to myself…only better. I would say 2.0 but I’ve already been through too many changes to count.

Now, I’ll get to return to me and back on the path of aspirations that I held before the tragedies set in, the downward spiral picked up enough speed to bring the meltdown and I was medicated into near-somnambulance. For the first time in a long time, I am excited about life and what’s ahead. I’m as excited for those around me to finally meet the real me and be part of my progress.Blessed with amazing people and I look forward to being among them and not just being in need of them. I’ve got a lot of giving back to do!


The Warrior I Forgot

The warrior I forgot was me; my guardian whose name is part of mine; whose images  inked on my arms. Morrigan…fierce, Celtic, not  taken lightly. I come from a long line of a warrior clan, survivors in the “old” world and the “new”.
In my last 2 posts, I opened up my own Pandora’s Box in public.

It's All Coming Back to Me Now
It’s All Coming Back to Me Now (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Public being outside of a select few people; a couple of therapists and, long ago, in closed courtrooms. To share this with the world was meditated upon for some time & not done lightly. Turns out, it was one of the most freeing decisions. I come from a long line of a warrior clan, survivors in the “old” world and the “new”.

 Beyond all the therapy, one-on-ones with friends & family, etc, this affected me more than all combined. It reminded me of who I once was before PTSD, Depression, Agoraphobia & Panic Disorder set in a few years ago following a long period of multiple trauma. I was fierce, unafraid, a warrior. I’ve wondered where “I” went after all that and would I ever get “me” back. I began to reflect on this: the physical disabilities that plague my body daily & the mental health issues that can rear their ugly heads at any time. As if the sun broke through the fog that I feel surrounding me, an answer came…and with it, the “me” that I’d missed began to come through. The Warrior!

I am not ungrateful to modern medicine and. certainly, my physical issues benefit from them. Now I do, however, take issue with the often well-meaning members of the Psychiatric community. I realize that the reasons I felt lost are complicated and multi-faceted. The first being that I was a member of 12 Step communities, which served me well until I stopped serving myself; the next was listening to a therapist with whom I have had a long-standing and seemingly positive relationship. In retrospect, I believe that all good intentions went awry by one who did not deal with a patient who had problems of this magnitude. I talked, the good doctor listened, when sessions ended, I was given prescriptions to “help” ease the symptoms. The problem was, we spent 6 years never addressing solutions. I suddenly came to realize, and verify through research, that I have been consuming 2 highly addictive medications for far longer than recommended. I had, over time, discussed “stepping down” from them, understanding that one could not just stop them. I never realized the depth of their addictive qualities nor the lengthy process involved in being done with them.

Modern drug ampoules
Modern drug ampoules (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I asked my provider a few days ago if we could please begin this process & he stated that he was happy that I was willing! Where was he on the other occasions I had broached the subject? What else had I talked about that he did not hear? I began to realize that I rarely got any feedback, just a $275. an hour listener. It both saddened and angered me. Hello? Was I merely a voice in the wind? I tried to make sense of why someone would let me go on that long if I presented issues not within their scope. I tried to understand how someone could speak to me of addiction and at the same time dole out addictive substances so readily. Was it for lack of an answer? I like this person very much but I am also enraged at the years I feel were wasted. I am now in a fog, stepping down my dosages of the meds in question. I am taking back my power on all fronts, but especially with my doctors.

I am seeing my general practitioner this week to review my physical issues and request further testing as I suspect there is more than currently diagnosed. Symptoms that don’t make sense. I pray it is not so, but if it is, I want to be present in my care. As to my shrink, I guess I can follow instructions while I debate how to bring closure and find someone more suitable to my needs. There are groups I would like to enter but I must be off of the addictive meds first.

This is not so grim as it sounds. I am elated that I have some answers…that I am on the road back to “me” with an explanation of where it all got lost. I know that I will still suffer bouts of PTSD and all of the other issues, but I am learning new tools to deal with them. The only fog I may feel from time to time will be Fibro Fog & that I can deal with. This is one Pandora’s Box that deserves to be opened….not scary, but exciting. I am looking forward to sharing this journey…

English: Pandora's Box
English: Pandora’s Box (Photo credit: Wikipedia)