Some of you know that I have been diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and now you all do…
I was diagnosed many years before PTSD became the kind of catchall psychiatric tag they give everyone who suffers from depression or sleep deprivation or night terrors or any of the other psychotic ruptures that can seemingly ruin or control one’s lives.
Running hand in hand with PTSD is the fact that I also have Crohn’s Disease, an autoimmune, and between and around and possibly because of those two majors are a myriad of peripheral illnesses that I have – just to round me out….
Back to the PSTD….many of you know some of the reason why I was diagnosed….that it happened after years of treatment whereby different kinds of doctor’s tried to explain why I am the way I am….er rather….why I was the way I was in those days.
Some of you know that I had my first major surgery when was 21 days old, and that as a result I sorta missed that whole “bonding” thing. Some of you also know that I’ve had almost too many surgeries since then to count. While others of you know that I was violently, verbally and sexually abused and brutalized from the age of 3 to 9 by my babysitter’s boyfriend….who was (funnily enough) a biker.
Some of you know that I spent years of my life “acting out” as they say, and I’ve told many stories over the years about some of the “not so smart” things I did in my miss spent youth….but I lived them and while they are not things to regret they surely are things to learn from.
Still and all, there remain portions or parts of that story that I’ve not told anyone in here…that frankly no one here in BC knows …frankly there are parts that I may never remember…
All of this explains the why behind the fact that I am medicated to sleep at night…have been for years……without medication I have horrendous nightmares that often bring me out of sleep in full blown panic attacks…and have caused more than one hospital visit.
About a week ago I got this bright idea that I should stop taking my night medication because it makes me sleep too hard. Well…that’s one of the reasons….I have a fear that I am developing sleep apnea as a result of the depth of the dark hole I fall into when I sleep on medication. Another reason is the huge weight gain, my lack of interest in housework (you should not ever see my dump!), my lack of interest in sex, my lack of interest in a partner…..But mostly the idea was precipitated by a monologue from the boss lady about how I should be “in complete charge” of my body, my life, my soul, my emotions.
I’ve been feeling pretty good for a while so I quit taking that one particular pill.
For 4 days I didn’t take it with little or no noticeable change of feeling however on the 4th night I slept about 3 hours as opposed to the 8 I should….the minimum of 8 I need to keep my autoimmune disease in check and my health on the right track (cos sleep is when ya heal don’tcha know?)
I decided that a change in sleep patterns wasn’t worth it and on the 5th night I took a pill and slept like a rock for a full 8 hours. On the 6th night I went out for dinner with the VOD. We got home around 10 and I simply forgot to take the damn pill until then…and by then it’s too late…I knew I had to get up early today and if I didn’t I’d miss my ride club stuff.
So I went to bed and 10 and slept till about 2. I woke up sometime around 2 in a full blown panic attack.
I
could
not
breath.
The murderer that infests my dreams had been smothering me…and the sound of my first breath when I got away from him was the noise that woke me up. (ya know that sound ya hear in the movies when the hero’s been forced to be underwater too long? Ya…that’s the sound that woke me)
I woke up to a completely dark room and full panic.
I dove out of bed completely sure that should I not “get away”, I was absolutely positively sure that I would die at the hands of the same murderer that has been threatening my sleep for 40 years.
In my panic I forgot the set up of my room (it’s only been set up that way for 10 years) and I ran into the wall beside my bedroom door with such a resounding thump that I knocked myself senseless.
I woke up on the floor about 20 minutes later….and that was it for sleep last night.
Needless to say….fuck the weight gain, to hell with the condition of my home and the boss lady can kiss my big fat furry tattoo…..I’m taking the pills from here on in…
And that, as they say, is that.
