Yawn...

I am not a fanciful person. I love to read fantasy and fiction. I like to imagine things. But I'm very certain what is real and what is not. As least...I used to be.

I don't know what it's like when other people have flashbacks. I've heard some say there's a lead up--they can feel it coming. I don't have that luxury. They just happen. I've heard some people say there's a frightening, dreamlike quality to their flashbacks. Mine are not like that. When they happen, I'm there. They only last a few seconds, I'm guessing. But it feels that in those tiny moments I've just relived hours of agony. If  you're with me, you won't know. The only outward sign I give anymore, is that if I'm walking, I might pause and seem disoriented for a moment. If we're talking, I might be silent. I like the camouflage of being in a small group. It simply seems as if I'm listening, or thinking about what someone else just said. It truth, I'm regrouping, reminding myself where I am, who I'm with, telling my body the hurt isn't real, taking deep breaths, waiting for fear to subside.

But at night it's a different story. I've been lucky to have Darrin with me because I have difficulty returning to reality when the nightmares occur. In truth, they're no different from the flashbacks. Same subject matter, same after effects. But the difference is that I wake to darkness, disoriented, unable to figure out where I am  or who I'm with. I'm usually combative, but if Darrin talks to me, within about five minutes I understand that I'm in the here and now. The tremors that follow are more severe and last longer than those I get in daytime flashbacks. But I usually don't cry. It's difficult to get back to sleep, too. I don't want to have another nightmare. Sleep is not restful at that point, it's terrifying.

But now Darrin is gone. And he'll be gone for a long time. I had hoped, maybe, I'd be able to use the process I once relied on to direct my dreams--but I can't seem to. At this point I'm doubting that it ever worked at all--although I know it did, I'm just discouraged. Last night I awoke from a nightmare. It took me nearly half an hour to become cognizant of my surroundings and then I was still very afraid. I tried to call Darrin (it was about 11:00 p.m.). He was sleeping, probably, because he didn't answer his phone. I felt silly for trying to bother him, and tried to sleep again. Miraculously, I did fall asleep, only to have an encore session of the nightmare. This time, when I finally became coherent, it was 11:30 p.m. That's not very much time between scenes of terror. I should learn to space them better. 

I couldn't go back to sleep. I waited to calm down. It didn't happen. I tried to read, walked on my treadmill, folded laundry--all the while haunted by the things I see in my sleep. Finally, around 12:45 a.m. I thought I'd see if anyone was awake. I texted a couple of people in a different time zone, hoping they might still be up. No answer. Then I sat down and felt thoroughly sorry for myself because they were all getting the kind of rest I needed, but I couldn't go back to sleep. I knew what was lurking there. 

So...I worked. I'm still working now. And even though I'm very aware that nothing that presents itself in my head is real, that doesn't mean I want to look at it again. So I'm not sure that I'll sleep tonight, either. Darrin gets back on January 30th. I'm thinking I'll go to sleep then.

Giving In

Isn't it interesting that even though I know what to do, even though I know what will solve my current problem, even though I know where to turn for help, I still don't want to do it? It's difficult to rewire impulses that have been practiced for many years.

I'm back at square one with the nightmares. I have to accept help and start doing my daily/nightly work to be able to control what I see. I've been putting it off, or just going through the motions because the person I need to help me is also the current agressor in my dreams--which really sucks. So...I let myself hit rock bottom. I did the debate about whether to take the medication which will repress my nightmares for the rest of my life. Then I realized that if I don't at least try to work through this, I will regret it, and I'll be left with the memory of a nightmare I really wish to change.

So starting this morning I began to lay the groundwork for dream direction. I'll work on it the rest of this week. I do lots of writing, and visualization. I've spent hours talking with Tolkien Boy, trying to reestablish the trust threshold that's been destroyed by the stupid nightmares. I'll be doing meditation before bed (along with a whole lot of prayer). If the pattern follows my first attempt at this, I'll be exhausted for the first couple of nights, and then it will get easier. And I'll stop making excuses to not accept help, swallow my pride and take what's offered because it's not forever, and I will become stronger because of it.

I just wish I didn't have to go through all the crap I put myself through before I can become humble enough to realize I really can't do this by myself, and even if it makes me the most needy person in the world, sometimes I just have to accept that I don't have super powers. It would be nice, though...

Wish me luck? Pray for me? Light a candle? Cast a spell? Hey, as long as I'm accepting help--I'll take it from whatever source it may come.

Could I be you?

Something is wrong with the sum of us
That I can't seem to erase

I'm trying. Each day I move closer to coming to terms with the things I've experienced. Each night I'm reminded I have more work to do.

How can I be the only one
Without a smile on my face

Except--I am smiling--I always smile. But not inside. In that place I'm screaming and I don't know how to let it out.

Well now, you're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight

Please? Just for a night. Tomorrow I'll be me again, but maybe I could have just one night of rest.

You show your pain like it really hurts
And I can't even start to feel mine

Because every time I try, it overwhelms me. I can't ignore it any longer, but I'm too afraid to allow myself to feel anything right now. For awhile I was doing well with this, but then it became too much, and I'm right back where I started from. I'm beginning to realize this will never end--and that someday I'm going to have to figure this out.

Well, I'm standing in place
With my head first and I shake, I shake

Because it seems too much for one person to do. Because I don't think I'm strong enough to live with the aftermath of someone else's choices and actions. Because deep down, the authentic me never made it beyond the horrifically frightened eleven-year-old who is still wondering what the hell happened.

I see your progress stretched out for miles and miles

Forgive me for being envious. Forgive me for wishing to be more like you. Forgive me for feeling helpless and discouraged.

You're laughing out loud
At just the thought of being alive, yeah

I want to do that.

And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight

Just tonight. That's all. No nightmares. No sadness.

This is the sound that I make
These are the words I chose

I don't know what I really want to say. I'm trying to understand everything, myself, still. I'm starting to believe I'll never really know what it is I mean.

Somehow the right thing to say
Just won't come out
Just won't come out

I'm just tired, I guess. It's difficult to be articulate when one isn't sleeping well.

And you're laughing out loud
At the thought of being alive

And I have to say, it gives me hope to see you happy. That stupid optimist inside keeps telling me that someday I'll feel the same way--I just have to keep moving forward. Your laughter brings me joy. In spite of everything, I laugh with you.

And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight

Just for one night. One night of restful, recuperative sleep. One night of no fear. One night when I'm not abused and left alone. One night when I can just rest. Please?

*Thanks to Matchbox 20 for their lyrics, and for keeping me company last night.

Tired

One of the many contributors to my decision to visit the psyche ward, was a shift in my recurrent nightmares. I've had so much success with directing my dreams, so when they changed suddenly, and without my permission, I didn't know how to proceed. My collaborator in my dream work suddenly became the person within those nightmares who was hurting me. I was distressed and frustrated. It was a huge relief when I was told that this is not an unexpected side-effect of the PTSD, and I could take steps to regain control or choose medication to suppress the dreams.

I spent many hours, one-on-one with a therapist, being instructed and planning steps to change my dreams. One of the things about which the therapist and both psychiatrists were adamant: I had to continue to develop my friendship/relationship with my dream partner, and use his help in guiding the new dream scenarios. There were two reasons for this:
1. People who have PTSD have difficulty fostering and maintaining relationships that have any degree of closeness. If I was able to recover from the feelings I'd been having which made me want to end my friendship, and continue to use that friendship to help me, I'd be on my way to growing beyond this. I'm already an anomaly, in that I've been able to maintain my marriage for many years (I blame SSA). Many people who experience PTSD have multiple marriages and sexual partners. They rarely remain in a relationship long enough to establish emotional intimacy which is vital for good emotional/mental health.
2. My collaborator already has a background helping me deal with it. It took us about three months to make everything work. To find someone else with the desire and willingness to learn about my needs and help me with them would be very difficult--and sort of stupid since it's not necessary.

So I did as I was instructed, and my friend and I have once again embarked on the dream direction journey. But I'm feeling unhappy about it all. I don't like having to rely on anyone, but if I don't do the exercises with him each night, I sincerely regret it when I fall asleep. It makes me feel inordinately dependent, and helpless.

I've been trying to alternate a couple of nights when we do the exercises together, with a couple where I do them alone. This has not been successful.

Once again, I'm getting really tired and discouraged. Honestly, I just want to sleep. I don't want to bother anyone each night, in order to get that rest. I've tried working with Darrin a bit, but he's too close to me, which probably doesn't make sense, but is true, nonetheless.

I'm going to go try this on my own, once again. Wish me luck.

Smart Psychiatrist Man Says...

Smart Psychiatrist Man (SPM) found me "fascinating." Imagine that being said dryly and emotionlessly while being stared at through watery blue eyes peering from behind relatively clean thick glasses. Apparently, after all the testing, and in spite of my family history of mental illness, the only conclusive diagnosis he can pin on me is PTSD, which I already knew I had. There is no residual chronic depression (he says that being sad is different from clinical depression). Schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder, Alzheimer's, substance addiction, and clinical depression have high instance in my family--and often those illnesses can be exacerbated by PTSD. It seems, however, that I have none of those, and that my only illness is brought on by trauma/violence in my past. SPM said that was very interesting. He also said that we could treat the symptoms of PTSD with drugs if I would like that. Symptoms would include nightmares and social phobias. I asked if the drugs would be lifelong. SPM suggested that was a possibility. I asked for alternatives. He smiled and said the alternatives require much more work and can be frustrating. He said especially for the nightmares, the work was extremely intense. I asked if he was talking about guided dreams. He said yes, and then used a more official sounding term for what I've been doing since January. I explained to him the process I'd used to control my nightmares, and included the fact that I'd had a partner to help. SPM asked me why I was no longer using my methods, assuming they were no longer effective. I told him that my partner had taken the place of my cousin as my attacker. SPM's smile got larger. He said that whenever crisis occurs in the life of someone who has PTSD, it is normal for that person to feel that a close, safe person is now dangerous--hence the nightmares and other erratic behavior. SPM said he was surprised that Therapist had not taken on the role of attacker in my dreams, but then added that I was a little bit unusual. Thanks.

SPM told me that I could figure out the dreams once again, gave me some preliminary tools to use, and mapped out some guidelines he thought would be helpful. I left that particular session feeling huge relief. I've been consumed with guilt that I would dream such awful things about a loved one--especially since he would never be capable of hurting me in violent ways. I thought I was losing my mind, and I was really sad about the feelings of fear and distrust I was experiencing. The most helpful thing SPM told me was that everything I was going through was normal within the realms of PTSD. He also agrees that I don't need to be on meds for the rest of my life (or at all, if that's my choice), that my actions in the past eight months, especially with directional dreaming and increased social interaction with men (no, I didn't give details of my choice of men with whom to socialize) were proof that I could take control of those things and manage them in my life. He also was firm that I work with a therapist who had a background in dealing with PTSD, so that I'd learn to recognize symptoms and not ignore them to the point where I'd end up back in the hospital.

It's sort of hard to think about this, because I keep believing that if the trauma in my past had not occurred, I'd be really well-adjusted and normal. But then I remember that SPM said that the sum of our experiences contribute to who we are. He mentioned that parts of the psyche evaluations measure self-concept (personal beliefs about self). He said that even though I have lingering doubts about self-worth, I also have a deep belief that I'm of worth--evinced by my desire to make changes and work toward resolution of the emotional distress I'm going through. A person with less self-esteem would feel too defeated to begin, and there would be much time spent building that person to the point where actual work could begin. I don't have to do that preliminary stuff because, as SPM said, I "have a fairly high opinion of [myself], but not an inflated ego-image." That's a good thing. So even though I believe without the abuse experience I'd still be pretty amazing, the fact that it happened and I'm still me is amazing in and of itself.

I thought as I walked into the hospital that I had lost everything I've fought so hard to gain over the past eighteen months. I believe differently today. It was just one more point on the learning curve. My Bishop, Therapist Number Two (TNT), and a couple of nurses all assured me that I'm going to be okay. I believe them.