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I do a fairly good job of controlling it, thanks to staying on an anti-depressant. I have, even in the past, discussed it with a psychiatrist. However, I never really have found anyone who could "cure" it, nor do I think I ever will.
I suffer from post traumatic stress disorder(PTSD). I have had it since I was 22-years-old when I went through the most devastating year of my life. It waxes and wanes, depending on what I am facing on any given day.
In the span of less than a year, I discovered Gordon's infidelity, my father had a head-on collision that killed a man and left him with two broken legs and five crushed ribs; then, a month to the day from my father's accident, my mother was also in a car accident in which she suffered a brain injury and a broken neck.
She lay in a coma near death for several days. Though she survived, she was left with permanent paralysis of her right hand and partial paralysis of her right arm.
Six months later my father died suddenly from a heart attack. Needless to say, by that time, I was an emotional wreck.
However, I was the oldest of three children, so it fell to me to care for my mother and to become the symbolic head of my family.
So, I propped myself up, put myself back together as best I could, picked out a man who was always waiting in the wings when things went wrong in my life and married him.
I desperately needed someone--anyone--at that point to help me deal with all the responsibility and stress in my life.
I thought I was doing well until I began throwing up everything I ate. I knew I wasn't pregnant, so that meant tests to determine the problem. I was 24 and I had an ulcer--a bad one.
For the next ten years, I had to watch everything I ate, stay on medication, and I could not take even a sip of alcohol or I was deathly ill again.
Most of the time, however, I did a better than average job of raising my family, helping my mother and working full time. The one thing that suffered was my marriage.
That's another story in itself. But,I discovered that staying busy with other things kept the demons away most of the time.
So, I cleaned house like a madwoman, I sponsored the yearbook and newspaper, I immersed myself in my children's well-being and their lives, I played bridge, I went to sports events and I worked like a fool.
I managed during those 25 years only to have the demons overtake me twice. Once, I had to be hospitalized and placed on medication; the second time, I saw the psychiatrist, going on anti-depressants.
Thanks to anti-depressants and a lot of self will, I have not had a severe attack in over 20 years. But I still have those times when I get overwhelmed with the memories
Like all people with PTSD, when I have a episode, I can't sleep; everything comes back to me with crystal clarity, including every feeling I had at the time, every memory of the event, every perception of that moment. I become weepy and depressed.
I'm reliving it all in my mind just as it happened and experiencing the exact same pain that I felt at that moment in time.
It all crystallizes around Gordon, because that was the beginning and the most personally devastating to me.
I actually began my blog as a means of pouring this all out on paper and it has been a huge help to me.
The other night when I had a flashback I lay in bed reliving it for hours. I finally got up at five a.m., wrote the post and felt better.
Today, I'm back in control. 99% of the time I am fine. When I am, I have completely different perceptions of everything and everyone. Every person has coping mechanisms. For me, writing is the outlet that gets me through the tough moments when I have a sleepless night. It gives me some way of releasing all those emotions that are tearing at my insides.
