It’s taken me a while to really connect with this sentence on more than a superficial level, and I think I’ve mentioned it in passing on that level, but lately, this has become apparent to the point of being ridiculous:
I have PTSD.
There’s no one source, no one event…it’s a culmination of how I was treated growing up by family and classmates/teachers, then treated by guys I dated and/or married (with a few exceptions), and all of it’s coming together with the stress of my current ailment (which relates, oddly enough, to my past relationships). The situation is similar to that of someone who keeps getting re-deployed without having a chance to de-compress from the last tour. I keep getting thrown into the same environments with the same bad treatment or circumstances without being able to process what happened, last time. This relationship is a great one, but I don’t think I even really processed my divorce properly before being in it…I sometimes forget I was actually, legally married, and put “single” on forms instead of “divorced.”
I can’t go into detail…not yet, anyway. I’ve put details up in bits and pieces, here, but we’re dealing with about 24 years of stuff piling up, here, and as I mentioned in my last post, I’ve gotten stress-induced eczema over the past month or so, and it’s getting worse. I have agoraphobia, but my natural inclination is to talk to people and be social in some way, so I’m at odds with myself, which is turning into this horrible internal struggle. I have little panic attacks about whether I should show up as anything other than “away” or “do not disturb” on Skype. That’s not a life-changing decision, yet my brain treats it like one.
I’m not streaming because I just don’t want people to see me, because I’m afraid they’ll see all that awfulness, or that I’ll get irrationally angry at some aspect of a game I’m playing, or at once of my viewers, and just lose my shit over nothing. I’m a powder keg, right now, and my fuse is popping.
I’m going to my doctor Wednesday to talk about my eczema, discuss causes (might get an allergen test set up, just in case) and treatments…and to get a proper referral to a therapist of some sort. I will likely begin the “medication dance” again, because I need something to ease this constant buzz of anxiety and panic and depression.
I can’t do this any more.
I just can’t.
It’s gotten to the point where I got REALLY upset on Thursday night about how Wasband is essentially the reason I stopped painting, and how I wanted to take it up again, and Forrest just left the room and started making macaroni and cheese for me because it was all he could think of to do to make me feel better – mac’n’cheese is one of my comfort foods. There’s nothing wrong with his reaction – in fact, I prefer it to the people who want to fix everything – but we’re at a point where that’s our life. I’m constantly stressed, he’s constantly worried. We can’t live like this.
There are things about my marriage, past relationships, and even past experiences with counselors (I don’t have what one would call a “good” history with them) that I haven’t discussed with anyone, and there are aspects of my current relationship that are suffering from both those as well as my physical illness. The physical illness is bad enough, but I’m working on that. It’s time to deal with the emotional illness, as well.
There’s more that goes along with all of this, but I’m going to just kind of leave this here, for now, and update when I feel it’s appropriate.