After my son died, I struggled with severe depression, acute panic attacks, PTSD (Post traumatic stress disorder) and basically felt like aliens had captured me and sent me to the mother ship for about three years.
I lost so many things in my life during that time.
Including, “Me”.
I don’t know if any of you have ever had your life destroyed so completely that you don’t even feel familiar in your own skin anymore. You don’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror.
That was me for a very long time.
My problem is not an issue of chemical-imbalance. Anti-depressants only exacerbated things and the massive amounts of anti-anxiety and sleeping medication they gave me only clouded an already compromised rational and made things much worse. Therapy made me feel broken and horrible about myself.
I spiraled slowly down and down until it hit a horrible stop.
I quit every medication I was on and I stopped thinking about going to therapy about a year ago.
(I know therapy is a good thing for many. However, because of the way that I think and filter things, thinking about the process and what I was exposed to made me feel like utter crap about myself. After I let go of the idea of needing therapy and that I need to “Fix” myself, I finally felt a lot better.)
It’s only been the last year and a half that I have really started to feel like myself.
Things started to slowly get more manageable, and in the tiniest steps, my life began to right itself. It started out with small glimpses and every time that I would have a moment where the old me shone through I was so happy. It happened more and more until here I am today.
I am grateful that many of the things that I lost at the time were not lost to me forever.
Even though I am throughly familiar with the reflection in the mirror, I am not the same.
I will never be the same.
Part of me died with my boy and like him, will never come back.
Still, I feel familiar. I recognize me. I react to things more like I used to.
Just when I got used to driving on a fairly well-paved road, the bitch that is life threw a big-ass pothole in my way.
I’ve been struggling a bit lately.
I have so many projects not done (Hello? My freaking links page for one) piles of emails, I have hardly been on blogs and I just feel perpetually behind. I have been struggling with some relationships where hurtful things have happened. I don’t enjoy things as much, struggle with motivation and I have been more emotional that usual. Things are just a bit more overwhelming lately.
Yesterday, after a perfectly AWESOME day full of family and friends and new aprons, I had reason to go somewhere that I hadn’t been in years…since I was in my bad place. I shouldn’t have gone.
First, I wasn’t in a great place to begin with. I had had a weekend full of a lot of difficult things and was in a bit of a fragile mood. Even though I was with a friend that I love and trust, being in that environment, with those smells and memories, set off one of the worst PTS episodes that I have ever had.
Up until that point, I hadn’t had one in about a year and a half. I can even see red ambulances on siren and be ok, which was a bit feat.
If you have never seen or experienced a PTS episode, it isn’t pleasant. There is a lovely description of PTS and what it involves, here.
It was horrible and I was a mess physically and emotionally. When I think that I used to have these episodes on almost a daily basis I just don’t know how I made it through. I’m not sure why this one was so bad. Maybe my masochistic subconscious is just trying to make up for all this peace of mind I’ve been having lately.
The aftermath of it has been difficult.
It’s been a rough day…I’ll probably have a few more until I’m over it. Luckily, I have good things scheduled with my family and my friends (Hello? Project Runway Finale, anyone? I totally want Christian to win.) so I know that I will have loved ones around. My friends and family have always been the thing that helps more than anything. They are always a comfort.
Still?
I’m scared.
What if this means that I am going back to how I used to be?
When you are in the clutches of things like these and you break free, having a setback is terrifying.
I don’t want people to overly worry, here. I am not on the verge of crazy, I will not go postal at the CVI luncheon today, and I am doing many things already that I know will help: Vitamins, exercise, eating well, etc. etc. etc. (THREE AND A HALF WEEKS DIET COKE FREE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!)
I don’t even know the point of writing this. I don’t want people to worry. I am not whining or asking for sympathy (or god forbid, pity) or even understanding.
It’s just…
I never want to go back to where I was before.
Never.
Filed under: 
I’m sorry you feel like crap. Lots of happy thoughts for you. And some prayers too.
Sometimes just the fear of going back to our own personal hell is enough to keep us from going back THERE. Fear is a great motivator.
I’ve gone to great and frankly ridiculous lengths to avoid going back to a place I will never ever go to again. At this point its even scarier to think of going through it all again all these years later now that I am a mom and responsible for someone else’s life.
((((hugs))))
Lots of them.
shit, if i could i’d be running around with a wheelbarrow full of quick-drying cement, filling in those bastard potholes before you could get the chance to fall in.
by enduring this one, you’ve blocked it up yourself. it’s gone now.
i really don’t think your future path is dotted with very many more.
instead, i’m visualising it carpeted in soft green grass and dotted with abundant patches of groovy flowery love.
Vx
Everything I want to say means nothing. But I do understand that fear. And it sucks. But it can mean your moving forward. {{{HUGS}}}
Again, you’ve put me at a loss for words. Hugs!
Wow. I really can’t say anything else. This was such a moving and amazingly personal post.
Your strength comes through in your writing.
I am so sorry for all you’ve been through.
At least it’s a pothole and not the Grand Canyon–you can do it.
Oh, yes. You absolutely must surround yourself with the ones you love and who love you and keep busy. I have never had to deal with PTSD, but there was a period in my life when I had a lot of anxiety issues and panic attacks. It gave me only a glimpse of the dark places that many people go to on a regular basis and I would never want to experience it again in the smallest of ways and I hope you don’t go back there, either. I’m sending a big old hug and a handful of faith your way.
I think you are a very strong person. I know you can pull through this.
You said you don’t know why you wrote about it, but hopefully it felt better to get it out. I have experienced PTS and it is true that you never know when to expect an “episode”, but like the MS that I was just diagnosed with, I can’t live through each day wondering when my next episode will come, even though it is so scary to deal with. You have made it through them before and have come a long way. You will get through this. You will never forget you son, nor will you forget some of the scary things that you went through, but some of it will eventually be a little less scary. For me it varies, sometimes it is better than others.
You will get through this…you are an amazing person…you will prevail!
I’m not sure what happened after dinner, but it makes me sad that something so traumatic happened after we had such a great time. Remember, “Do whatever it is you need to do to get through it…”
I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how awful this is for you. I know it’s hard, but maybe try to think of each dark episode, not as a sign that you’re going back to being something that you don’t want to be, but just as a setback. A reminder of how far you’ve come over the past few years. I hope that makes sense and doesn’t sound too trite.
The brief glimpses that I get of you through your blog tell me that you’re a strong, amazing person. Hugs to you.
We’ll talk tomorrow night. I make it all better. Damn I’m good.
*wanders off patting herself on the back
okay so I couldn’t just be a smart ass and leave it at that. . .
What I want you to know is that you have it exactly right. I often struggle with explaining the recovery process to clients, but you did a fantastic job. First, there seems like no hope, then you have a good moment, then in a while another, then another, till you look up and can’t remember the last time you had a bad moment was. It’s never something you’re conscious of while in the middle of the progress. And like all recovery, sometimes you slip, but when you know things are better is when you do slip, you pick yourself back up and keep walking, and don’t go back to that place you were before. You’ve done good, don’t kid yourself otherwise. This is the race of life and you are winning. Thanks for posting this for others to learn from.
*sorry to be so long winded, really someone should just kick that soap box out from under me sometimes.
I won’t even pretend that I have advice for you. I just wanted to send you my love and well wishes!
I dont think anyone can imagine the pain of losing a child. Esp so suddenly. You will never be the same person you were before, but it does get better over time. You had a setback, but that dosnt mean you will spiral downwards. It happens to the best of us. Sending you love and hugs!
From someone who is currently going crazy…. a big hug for you!
How was Project Runway. Max got home late (but not as too late) and then I lost track of time while editing. I guess I should be grateful since I got something done!
I will try to make it to the luncheon today.
“Tomorrow night, tomorrow night, under the canopy I’ll stand with her tomorrow night…” Sorry I had a bit of a Yentl breakdown. Nobody panic.
You are fabulous!!! I think it was good for you to get all of this out. Writing is SO therapeutic. You, me, Erika…tomorrow night. We’ll make everything all better. (I can pat myself on the back too.)
I’m sorry. Panic attacks are one of the worst things in the world.
On a less thoughtful note… Christian? WTF? I love him, in a hate him sort of way, but that bird feather dress was horrible. And the fact Posh would wear it just reinforced how much I hated it. However, she’d have it died orange to match her skin. There’s no denying his fierce talent, but I liked Jillian’s collection so much more. Her stuff I’d wear. Christian’s stuff maybe if I was dressing up as Big Bird for a Halloween party where they served ecstasy. Damn fashion kids always have the best drugs.
Since everyone else is doing the meaningful stuff much better than I could begin to babble, I will just say
THREE AND A HALF WEEKS OF DIET COKE FREE!!! You are superwoman! That is incredibly amazing and I am in awe, because caffine withdrawal is a prize prick and yet you are winning. Go you.
I have never experienced anything close to what you have gone through.
All I know is that you are an amazing woman, and I am glad to call you friend.
Praying that you feel better soon. xoxoxo
I have no magic words. All I can say is that I’m sorry you feel this way. Best of luck, sweetie.
I think you have come such a LONG way, girl! I am so very proud of you.
It’s been 38 years since I lost our son… and there are STILL times I have to be by myself, let myself cry, and hope the pain will go away for a while…and I still wonder, will he be there to meet me in heaven? Will he know me? Will I know him?
I’m saying prayers for you, and sending you a big {{{{{{{{{{HUG}}}}}}}}}}}}}. You are such an amazing young woman with so many talents. Please don’t beat yourself up, be good to yourself, OK?
I have not experienced a loss like yours and my heart goes out to you.
I like how you referenced potholes. Just think, we usually just drive right through the hole the first time. The second time, we’re more prepared and know how to angle the tires. The pothole might always be there, but we become better drivers. (And I’m sorry that this rhymes because I didn’t intend to be “cute”)
I’ll bet your post gave many of your readers hope.
Take care of yourself.
You are amazing, and so brave for sharing all of this. I hope you’re feeling better soon.
I don’t even know what to say, I just wanted you to know that I read this and I want you to feel like you. I’m sorry you’re struggling right now.
Just reading your post caused me anxiety. I haven’t been through what you have, but I have my own version of PSD/anxiety disorder…mine from a rough, rough childhood. I’ve been fortunate that my stints only lasted a few days at a time, and are managed by a lovely 50mg of Zoloft.
One of my best friends has just climbed out of a horrible post-partum depression that lasted a year. When she has a bad day the past couple of months since she’s been better, she starts to FREAK that she is going back to that dark, numb, scary place.
She’s not going back to the way she used to be.
YOU are not going back to the way you used to be.
It is behind you (both).
Here and listening. Here is a good place to say what you need to say when you feel like that.
***
Did you get to see Project Runway? I thought it was a really fun finale…no further comment just in case you missed it.
I can’t EVEN imagine what you have been through. Loosing a child has to be the worst pain anyone could possibly go through!!
I haven’t experienced your pain but I did go through a horrible loss 6 years ago when I lost my mom in a car accident. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt! I didn’t go hjave PTSD but it was a very dark and lonely place for awhile. Chirstmas 2006 was the WORST for me. I went through a roller coaster of emotions and was surpised by this sudden dark place I was in again!! Many times people feel since it’s been 1 and half, 3 years, or even 6 years that the pain goes away!
As I know you know it NEVER goes away, I guess we just learn to live without them.
I am sorry for you struggles! Know you are in my thoughts and prayers!!
HUG!!
Jen
I had fun with you today, lor. you seemed very happy and confident. if you were faking it, you did well.
it really IS ok to find joy in life after a tragedy. you will find your own peace in your own time in your own way. don’t forget that you DO deserve to be happy.
@Jess (“Mrs. Paul”)
No…I did have a good time. It was the high point of the last few days. “Performance” is never my problem. Nor is laughing.
It’s what’s going on underneath it all that sucks a duck.
Loralee,
I’ve been lurking for quite some time on the blog now and just wanted to offer what meager comfort I could. Your courage and honesty are inspiring. What you’ve said in this post and many others has resonated with me on more than one occasion. Anyway, I’ll probably slink back to lurking . . . but I just felt compelled to say something now.
oh, dear…all i can think of is to say keep taking the tiny steps. even if they don’t feel as wonderful as they were starting to for a little while. i know firsthand that depression can completely take over everything else, but i know i can’t come close to your pain. but…(((hug)))
…i bet you’d be happier if i got off my sorry butt and did my interview of you for Neil’s Interview Experiment, right? ;)
take care each moment.
I can’t even imagine what you have been through. You are a stronger woman than me, that’s for sure.
I’m sending you peaceful thoughts, my friend. please take care.
Here’s something I try to remember when things are going bad. Breathe.
As in Lamaze breathing. Anything that calms your mind, body, and emotions to get a woman through childbirth might be a useful tool for everyday trauma.
Breathe. And feel the love we have for you.
Breathe it in.
I’m really sorry. That is an awful thing that no one should have to ever go through.
I can totally relate to what you’re going through.
The description about not recognizing yourself, about having anxiety-ridden days every day, then getting better, then having it happen again….My brother died after a long illness, then the next year my dad died suddenly. One month later, I moved out of my house and got a divorce, and took my 2 year old. Waaaaay bad, hard times.
I appreciate that you shared. I get that you’re doing okay, it’s just, it’s hard. I’m sorry you’re going through it but at the same time, it’s good to share and talk and get through it with friends and help. Yay, internet!
I wish you grace to get through this one. I wish we lived closer.
Sorry that you had such a bad experience. I hope that you are feeling better! After reading your post I just wanted to give you a big ole hug!
I keep typing and erasing here, not knowing exactly what to say. I have different demons, but I understand in too many ways.
It’s rotten, but it will be ok.
and p.s.
i liked christian A LOT but i was really rooting for jillian. and i’d NEVER wear anything from his collection.
and rami: is he gay? will ANYONE tell me??
his clothes were also amazing.
Well, you and me, we share a bond. A bond neither of us wanted or asked for, yet here we are.
I get this. Therapy makes things worse for me as well.
I’ve been struggling too. Which is why I’m just crawling out of my rock and reading your blog now.
I’m here if you need a shoulder. I’ve got man sized ones, so my husband tells me.
Okay, I realize you might not ever read this since I’m a little late with this comment, but I just want you to know that you are in my thoughts and prayers and I am sending all kinds of mental hugs (but no makeout sessions, maybe next time) your way.
We have covered this, and though I will never, ever pretend to relate, I kind of can, in a PTS way.
All I want to say is how happy and lucky I am that you are coming back. I think I “met” you right as you were re-emerging. You are amazing. Funny, talented, and an inspiration.
I don’t think these things ever leave us entirely. I know my thing doesn’t, and it creeps back at the weirdest of times. but every time it does, I learn a little tiny something about how to make it the smallest bit easier the next time.
And I am just this little thing. You are a very big, brave, bad ass thing.
I have faith in the insides of you. I admire you more every day, and though i firmly believe these are things that can only be sorted out inside ourselves, I just want you to know that I am right here for you if you ever need it.
Sorry to hear that, maybe giving away more free stuff will help make you feel better. :)
I don’t think this is what it’s going to be like forever – I think it gets worse, then better, then you think you’re just enough better to take on the world and bury yourself – then that freaks you out and you spend tons of time trying to catch up and make sure you haven’t ruined anything in the process – then when that’s leveled out you start to feel better, then it starts all over again – but hopefully it’s not as bad the next time or the next. I wish I could explain how much I understand, but I can’t post things online – I just relate to a lot of what you write… obviously not everything, but a lot. Just know I’m here and I care. I’m just freaking out myself half of the time too.
xo
I just realized I probably made no sense whatsoever – I was so upset yesterday. I hope you understood what I was trying to say, but probably not. I just didn’t want you to think I wasn’t being serious about something that is so important to you.
Here are some belated hugs coming your way. I have been trapped under a big pile of work and have been neglecting things I love (like your blog). Hope you are having a better day today.
I had it too. After my daughter was in the hospital very ill for an extended period of time, I was diagnosed with it. Everyone else seemed to have moved on and I couldn’t. I remember searching the internet to find out what the F was happening to me. I just want to thank you again for your brave and honest posts. Maybe look at it as you’re exactly where you need to be. It’s not about finishing links pages and keeping up on blog-reading, it’s about connection and touching lives and glance at your comment section for a moment and forget all the other stuff that we berate ourselves for. I do the same and it only gets me nowhere. You are perfectly where you should be. and thank you.
I didn’t know about this, and I’m so sorry to hear about it. There are things that change us forever. Blessings to you and your family. I’m sending you warm, healing hugs and bloggy love. Be kind to yourself.