My day started off pretty good considering. Had plans to get a lot of things done. Reading, writing in this blog. Seeing my doctor (shrink) and then going to the pet food store so my 16-year-old cat won’t freak out all the time (bought her pheromones).
My cats fight. Literally all the time. Bolt who is one year old loves to jump up on Blanka who is 16.
I had all of these plans but time seems to have gotten the best of me. I spent the morning answering awkward questions about my past. He is not so empathic. Just listening. “yes. yes. yes.” and then “You know most PTSD is when you have been in a war….”
My absolute favorite was “Did the man in the movie theater (when I was like 12) rape you? Or did he just touch you?
JUST touch me?!? The man followed me and my brother out of the movie and we had to hide in a grocery store. I didn’t tell anyone either because I was scared of being in trouble.
I didn’t even remember it until I was in my early 30’s! I didn’t even know if it was real or not. I actually had to go to friends and asked; “Is that sexual abuse?” I asked this because I sat there in the movies watching the jungle book (cartoon it was the 80s) and LET him touch me so I would not ruin the movie for my 7 years younger brother.
I don’t know if it is PTSD but I worry a lot about my daughter at movies. She is not allowed to sit next to anyone (I actually look this up while ordering tickets two empty seats around us both sides have one in case someone takes on of the seats).
I stare at her. She gets annoyed.
Worst of all is I cry. I cry during all movies. At home, at the theater. Comedies, Dramas, Romance, Thriller. You name it. I find a reason to cry.
Maybe it’s not PTSD. I am no shrink. I mean according to my doctor I was not raped and even though I had seen some bad stuff (we will get into that on another post). Apparently, a form decides my fate.
I don’t have nightmares, well I do, but I try to knock myself with tons of medication before I sleep. Still have them though. So I lie to myself a lot.
I don’t have these painful flashes that make me want to fight, but I do have flashes of what has happened to me in my life. Quite a lot to be honest. I can be driving in the car, thinking at work, or watching TV and I will think of things (not just the theater incident).
Words trigger me into paranoia. So I take medicine for paranoia (three pills a day thank you). If I skip those (they run out) I get all crazy inside and think people are “out to get me”.
As with everything in the Swedish mental health world, I am lucky in the sense that I have a nurse I talk to twice a month. I know how to keep track of the 11 pills I take for my mental illness.
But of course, I am at this stage in my life where I want to be whole again.
I don’t want to be in that phase where I am strange about sex. Don’t feel comfortable being naked and wanting closeness as a normal human should. I want to go back to those naive days of a 12-year-old watching the Jungle Book before he sat down next to me.
This is a start point where everything changed for me.
I want to move on from it now, and start my life over. New job, school. I want to be 46 and have a world full of opportunities than settling.
I want to be free.