Tag Archives: Family

PTSD, Triggers, Keeping Silent And Remembering Trauma

The smallest things will trigger a response from me. A loud male voice behind me at the grocery store, the smell of beer and leather, bright lights and loud music, aggressive men in general, and even the way my Dad calls my name sometimes startles me.

Deep in the back of my mind I think I still resent my Dad for the way he handled everything. For the way he shook his hand and thanked him for bringing me home. For the way he called me a “drunk and a liar” as I was on the floor covered in blood in and out of consciousness.

I told myself I deserved it for many years. I allowed other men to treat me just as bad. Mostly because I was told by my own family that no one would believe me. I shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have been drinking.

It wasn’t the first time it was just the worst time.

REMEMBERING THAT NIGHT

I don’t remember the day. I don’t remember the exact year. I remember the apartment because I was there everyday. I remember the person because we had been as close as two people can be for over 10 years. We were both alcoholics. The only difference was I did my drinking between 4pm and 3am. I never drank during the day and I never drank alone. He drank whenever, by himself or with other people.

Over the years I had seen him be cruel. He had been physical with me on a fee occasions but I wasn’t a small girl and always thought I could handle him. I admit to drinking to the point of blacking out and having no memory of the previous night. I know during these times some things happened without my permission. I only know this by how I looked when I woke up and where I woke up.

I was undiagnosed Bipolar and doing anything I could to not feel emotions. My alcoholism eventually made this a million times worse. I also admit I wasn’t always nice while drinking. I could be obnoxious, jealous, and petty.

I would try to stop or slow down my drinking many times.

One night I took my cousin to the apartment with me, I wasn’t drinking. Someone thought it would be funny to put Rum in my soda. I took a big gulp and that was it. He was pissed and said “You better not get drunk because you’re not staying here tonight”. Of course this pissed me off and I thought “Who the hell is he to tell me how much to drink? He wouldn’t even have groceries or clean laundry if it wasn’t for me.” So I drank and drank.

At some point we started to argue. I remember asking him what the big deal was. Over the years he always said to me “You always hurt the ones you love the most”. And he did.

I turned my back to walk away from him and he picked up one of the heavy oak chairs on wheels that came with a beautiful table that turned into poker table and hit me over the back of my head.

I think I fought back and angered him because he grabbed my hair and pulled me to the floor. He got on top of me with all his weight, pinning my arms down with his knees.

He started punching me in the face, he wore a skull ring. With each punch he said a word “YOU, STUPID, FUCKING, BITCH” I remember spit flying out of his mouth and my nose swelling shut.

The blood started to go down the back of my throat and I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t get any air and I couldn’t move. For the first time ever I was terrified.

Eventually he pulled me up by my hair. I noticed one of the bedroom doors open and a girl I had known for years looked out at me and hurried up to shut the door. I know I said “Help” but maybe I wasn’t loud enough. I had bleach blond hair at the time and it was soaked with blood. My clothes were soaked with blood.

He dragged me to his apartment door which was always open and threw me down the stairs. I don’t know how long I stayed at the bottom of the stairs.

The next thing I remember he’s trying to get me to a car and I fall on my hands and knees in a puddle.

He had his friend drive me and my cousin to my parent’s home. He carried me to the door where he told them I fell. I kept trying to tell them it was him and I didn’t just fall.

It might have been the blow to the head because I wasn’t able to remain conscious. My Dad took this as a sign of being extremely drunk.

When I could speak and told my parents as much as I could my Dad said no one would believe me. I shouldn’t have been there and I was a drunk and a liar. They told me not to go to the Hospital and that I would be fine.

I wasn’t fine and wouldn’t be fine for the rest of my life.

The heavy chair hitting my head had actually caused permanent damage. I found this out 6 months ago.

PTSD is bad enough. When you have an underlying mental health issue like Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety Disorders, and Substance Abuse Disorders, it can turn into something much more complicated.

Dealing with Conversion Disorder has been as bad as coping with Bipolar. I never really know what is going to set it off. It’s embarrassing to start stuttering and have people stare at you. To start shaking and have your hands tremor so bad you can’t count change. To have no control over your body.

My family doesn’t like to talk about any of it. He admitted to a bar full of people what he did. A friend of my brother’s was there. He also called my brother that night saying “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re gonna hear but it’s not true” None of this made sense and my brother called wanting to know what was going on. My parents said it was a misunderstanding.

Two years later he was arrested for Domestic Assault & Battery and was sent to counseling. He broke the woman’s jaw.

These are some of the reasons we stay silent. We’re talked out of it, told no one will believe us or we see that nothing is really done about it.ddc04855251fa6c0f0d2cc95d4f717f1

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TAKING CARE OF DAD~ MORE ON THE ELDERLY AND ADDICTION

There are some people who abuse alcohol or drugs their entire lives and live to be 80 years old with no problem. On the flip side of this you have people who later in life, form addictions due to an “event” or “trigger”.

Retirement, death of a spouse or loved one, loss of income, or a decline in physical health can all be triggers for addiction in older people. Depression is one of the biggest problems.

You wake up one day unable to do the things you once loved, worried about finances, still grieving the loss of your wife/husband who was also your best friend, your children have their own lives now and you find you have fewer people to talk to. All of these things can lead to depression.

I’ll discuss more about depression at a later date.

A person’s age and gender contributes greatly to how open and honest they will be when answering a doctor’s questions but doctors play a role too. Too often an older adult’s concerns are dismissed as “old age” and prescription medications are used to solve the problem.

The #1 drug prescribed to people over the age of 65 and on Medicare are Benzodiazepines. They are used to treat anxiety, pain, and insomnia. They are also one of the most dangerous medications prescribed to seniors.

According to the American Geriatric Society benzodiazepines pose an increased risk for impaired alertness, respiratory depression and falls.

All benzodiazepines slow down the Central Nervous System. When used for insomnia it’s only effective for a few weeks. When combined with another benzodiazepine you can lose consciousness and stop breathing.

There are symptoms people experience when combining benzodiazepines that you need to contact your doctor if you exhibit:

  1. Continuing slurred speech or confusion.
  2. Severe drowsiness or weakness.
  3. Staggering.

There is a big issue with over-prescribing or “polypharmacy” which means having more prescribed medications on a daily or weekly basis than is healthy for one person to have. It becomes dangerous due to different drug interactions and side effects.

A person with a chronic or serious illness can find it challenging to keep up with a complicated medication schedule. Taking multiple meds at one time can cause some medications to neutralize each other so they end up taking more believing they either didn’t take it or it’s not working.

My Dad didn’t understand why he was still feeling so anxious specifically at the end of his dialysis treatments. He wouldn’t understand unless he had a degree in Pharmacodynamics or was a doctor (most doctors still don’t understand how to adjust medications for patients on dialysis). The pain medication he was on for his compressed nerve was making him anxious as it was being dialyzed. The anxiety medication he normally takes is at a very low dose. He didn’t think twice about doubling the anxiety medication. He would be unsteady on his feet when leaving the Dialysis Center and no one said a word.

Some people go to more than one doctor who may prescribe a medication without knowing what the patient is already taking. Patients don’t always remember all of their medications and don’t make a list like they are asked to.

I usually go with my Dad to any new appointments to fill out the paperwork and list all of his medications. His Nephrologist doesn’t see him in his office he visits him during his dialysis treatment. This means I can’t be there. I’m not there to fill out any new paperwork or to let them know about any new medications. My Dad isn’t going to tell them. My Dad will say everything is “Fine” when the doctor comes around.

Primary Care Physicians should be going over a patient’s list of medications on a regular basis and making adjustments. I know my Dad’s does not. If he did he wouldn’t have prescribed 2 benzodiazepines with an opioid. My Dad shouldn’t still be on Klonopin and they should be looking at Chronic Pain Management instead of him taking Hydrocodone that isn’t even working. I made him stop taking the Restoril. I personally wanted to go to his doctor’s office and tear him a new one for even prescribing it to a 75 year old man. It’s a dangerous medication for anyone to take long term but even more so for people over 65.

None of this matters when you are dealing with someone so full of pride and stubbornness that he won’t admit just how sick he is.


It’s Been Awhile So Get Ready!

After not really writing for awhile, I started to notice I was becoming more irritable, irrational, quick to anger, isolated and depressed.

I’ve always had a problem with confrontation. I avoid it as much as I can. This has usually meant staying silent when someone hurts me or says/does something I disagree with.

Eventually I will reach a point where I can’t swallow anymore B.S. and I reach a breaking point. Whoever is near me at this time suffers the consequences.

I can physically feel it happening. I hear my blood rushing in my ears, I lose my vision except for the color red or red dots and my head gets incredibly hot.

When it’s over, I don’t remember all of it, only bits and pieces. I know I screamed and yelled, said some horrible things, but I don’t remember the specifics.

I don’t make excuses for myself. I have tried to explain why it happens.

One of the most difficult things is when your loved ones think you aren’t trying hard enough.

When I had my last kidney surgery to change my stents, it was embedded and partially blocked with a build up of mineral and calcium deposits.

Your kidneys filter toxins from your blood and help keep your bodies chemistry in balance.

If you have 1 kidney working at 40% that has been compromised because the stent keeping it working at 40% has become embedded and blocked, your blood isn’t being filtered and your body chemistry is thrown off.

Now imagine you have an illness involving a chemical imbalance in your brain. Plus most of the medications you take go through your kidneys.

This would cause a huge problem if this went on for 6 months without you or your doctor knowing.

So when my stents were finally changed it was like starting over. I felt like I was mentally back where I was at 20 years old. My Psychiatrist didn’t adjust my medications even though he received all the reports. I was basically starting fresh but at high doses. All the medications that had been in my system I had detoxed from. One of the reasons I felt the way I did.

Starting over with all the side effects is horrendous. There have been times I just wanted to get in my car and start driving until I ran out of gas.

My Dad isn’t doing well and I’ve had to worry and take care of him. He has multiple disc herniations and bulges in his back. There’s also a compression at L4 and extreme spinal stenosis and arthritis. When I heard them ask if he knew he had several healed fractions I thought I was going to vomit.

He was too busy bragging about how many pounds of grain he can lift and carry to feed his 300 birds! He told me he got rid of almost all of them. He lied. Then continued to dig the hole deeper by boasting of all the other things he isn’t supposed to be doing.

I can’t chain him to his chair. He turned 75 on June 5th. I called and reminded my sister the night before. She NEVER CALLED HIM. On the 7th I called her and asked if she had called our Dad. She said she was going to. I asked why she didn’t do it on his actual birthday. She replied “He didn’t call me on my Birthday” That’s when the blood started rushing. In the last month she has told me 3 different times that she or her and her husband dislike my behavior and how I don’t take responsibility for anything.

I never see my sister and her husband. Since I had that 1 fight with him 4 or 5 years ago I’ve been kept at a distance. But they still bring up my “behavior”. How do you know what my behavior is when you’re never around me?

Sorry if I’m mad because once again I’m the one taking care of one of our parents and I’ll be the one that gets to watch them get worse and worse. I’ll be the one to either find him dead or watch him die at the hospital while you make excuses from 10 minutes away.

She never called for Father’s Day either.

I can’t watch another parent die.

Watching my mother almost killed me. I can still see her face, the nurses laughing, my Dad howling, the blood, like it’s right in front of me.

I remember her last words to me and that kills me.

I don’t want to do it again. But he never left me. I owe him. I know the rest of my family figures it’s okay because I’m alone and they think I’ll stay that way. Maybe they’re right and I should accept it.


TAKING RESPONSIBILITY AND TOXIC PEOPLE

I had surgery to replace my Ureteral Stents on May 14th. My twin sister drove me because my Dad has dialysis on Mondays. As soon as she got in the car I felt the tension. I was already feeling anxious and wasn’t allowed to take any of my Bipolar medications before the surgery. I don’t remember what started it. I think I started crying and it annoyed her. We also got lost on the way to the Hospital and she refused to listen to me. She wanted to drop me off at the door. I told her she had to come in and talk to them so they knew I actually had a ride home.

She wanted to valet park my car and I didn’t understand why when you could park yourself for free. She wasn’t paying for it. I always feel weird about valet parking. It’s a Hospital, you don’t need to valet park. This annoyed her further.

She didn’t want to come back with me while I waited for them to take me into surgery. One of the nurses must have said something to her because she eventually came back to sit with me. It was a mistake.

She was showing me pictures of my nephews. I love them more than anything. I didn’t know the older one spoke in front of the Mayor and 300 people on behalf of the Little League. They looked so grown up. Of course I started to tear up.

My sister said “You know you can come over any time and see them”. I looked at her with my mouth open. I then said “I have to wait for your husband to leave the house first?”. She didn’t answer right away. Then she said “Neither one of us like your behavior or how you don’t take responsibility for anything you say or do”. That was the beginning of the end.

The anesthesiologist came into the room to talk to me while my sister was there. He came back after she left. He asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. He said he was asking because I have a history of not wanting to come out of the anesthesia.

Nothing went well. They blew a vein in my IV, one of the stents became embedded and encrusted, someone taped my top lip to the breathing tube and didn’t realize it until they pulled it out taking the skin of my lip with it, and they couldn’t wake me.

After 3 hours I woke up. The anesthesiologist came in again. He said that he knew I was upset before going under and that it can’t happen again. He said at some point I’ll stay under because of my Conversion Disorder diagnosis. When I’m stressed, anxious, or sad I don’t always have control of neurological functions. It’s scary.

All of this made me realize the people around me are not going to change. I have to change how I react, my environment, and how I cope. I also need to recognize toxic people and situations.

TO BE CONTINUED…..be5d9e9599909984881e21c7036e306e


TO MY MOM

It’s been 10 years since you passed away. It hasn’t gotten any easier. I still can’t bring myself to visit your grave. The rest of the family make comments about this. I don’t care.

You would be disappointed with us. I know you would. The petty fighting and grudges we hold against each other. Some things can’t be forgiven. You could always forgive and that’s why we loved you.

The one thing I had a problem with was your enabling everyone around you. I know it came from love but you never realized when someone wasn’t being truthful or sincere. Maybe I had been around too many liars, cons, addicts, and thieves so I spotted it easily. It would take years after your death for people to believe me.

There’s nothing worse than your family thinking your “too dramatic” or “making stuff up” all the time. One thing I don’t do when I’m sober is lie. Actually when I drank I was too truthful and that got me into trouble too.

When I first saw you in that hospital room I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. I was outside of it watching as it all happened. I didn’t feel anything for a long time. I somehow knew if I did it would end me. It almost did anyway.

Months later I found myself in the bathroom at work screaming into a bunch of paper towels. I couldn’t move or stop crying. All I could see was your face, eyes open and blank, bloody foam that wouldn’t stop bubbling from your mouth. All I heard were nurses laughing and Dad wailing like a wounded animal. I didn’t want to remember any of it.

Your oldest granddaughter decided to dedicate many tattoos to you and acts as if she was the only one who lost you. Her mother visits your grave often. Your granddaughter also decided to write me and say some of the most hurtful things I’ve ever had said to me.

She has replaced J as number 1 on my shit list. I’d rather be punched in the face than have someone say what the things she said. But she’s found God so I guess she thinks it’s okay to make someone feel like dirt. It’s okay to tell them they should’ve killed themselves because they are waste of space and their own mother didn’t love them as much as she loved other people. It was 3 pages of this crap.

I hope you don’t know what’s going Mom because you would be as hurt and angry as I am. Dad finally told me what you really thought today and you weren’t fooled after all.

You are MY MOM I took care of you and loved you. I think about you always and miss you often. I’m letting go of the toxic people. I don’t have the time to help people who don’t want to be helped. From now on I’m helping myself and Dad from time to time. I love you.11059761_10207494279902008_1407885758767048615_n


THERE’S A DIFFERENT GENERATION OF ADDICTS NOW THAT ARE HARDER TO REACH

I had the name of the street the apartment was on when the paramedics revived you. I drove up and down it for hours, holding my breath, hoping to see your face. I didn’t.

It scared me to read your posts on Facebook. I knew you were in trouble. I knew because we think the same.

The problem is this new generation of addicts with mental health issues think they’re the first ones to ever have these thoughts or do what they do. They’ve been raised to think everything they do is special and unique. I’m sorry but it isn’t. This is the problem.

Your parents think a week in detox makes you okay. You get out, they give you a big hug and send you on your way. They attend nightly meetings on how to “cope with their addicted child” while you’re back on the street again repeating everything you did the week before.

The mental health part is usually ignored or only touched on briefly because no one wants a child with a mental illness. A child that’s an addict is better. The shame of your child having both would be too much.

The parents created the problem. At least the parents I’m referring to did.

I offer my help multiple times over the years only to be told “No, she’s fine. Focus on yourself.”

This was my last time reaching out. My heart can’t handle watching a beautiful young girl slowly die any longer. I’m tired of biting my tongue and taking abuse from other family members for trying to help. So I’m done. I’m letting go.

I can’t spend what time I have left worrying about people who don’t want or need my help or even want me in their lives.

I laughed for the first time in a long time the other day. I talked to my best friend. The only one who ever really understood me. I had to tell her about my health and I wanted her opinion on making my twin sister my medical proxy. She agreed that I shouldn’t. If I can’t trust my sister because of the way she threatens me or uses my illness against me than I shouldn’t be giving her any control over any areas of my life.

I have the hardest time letting go. I have to get past it if I want to follow through with my road trip to Texas after my surgery. There’s just one thing I left to do and W agrees I should go for it. Granted W is a little out there like me which is why I love her. But she has always accepted me for who I am no matter what. d94bebff677aa86360da53bcc7ab03eb--addiction-quotes-addiction-recovery


NO COMMUNICATION

I went into Kidney Failure again, I should’ve recognized the signs but didn’t. All they could do is get rid of the excess fluid backed up in my one good kidney. They couldn’t do much else because I’m too sick to operate on right now. They sent me home late yesterday.

My white blood cell count and red blood cell count are both down, my blood pressure is would suggest I’m already dead, my temperature was 100 degrees but is now staying at 94 degrees. I have a headache that would make a Super Hero cry, I can’t even tell you about my sinuses and phlegm problem because I still hope to have at least 1 date before I die.

As usual I couldn’t reach my twin sister to tell her I was in the ICU. My Dad is also sick right now so he couldn’t be with me. She did text me back eventually. After I got out of the Hospital.

I haven’t talked out loud to anyone very much in the last year. My Dad is usually miserable and I’m afraid I’ll set him off. My twin sister doesn’t answer her phone but will sometimes send me a text. I told her today that I’m having trouble with the loneliness, I’m talking to myself, Dad’s yelling at me constantly and it would be nice to just talk about current events or TV shows we both watch because it’s bad.

She sent me a text 3 hours later that she “had” to nap a lot today but she “might” give me a call later.

I’m really feeling done.

When I mentioned I might spend 6 months to a year in Florida with my Aunt all of a sudden my Dad says he has no money and needs more money from me for bills. I’ve given him $2,000 in the last month and a half. There went the money I was going to use towards my lease/rental. I know it’s on purpose and he has money.

No one wants to be around me, no one wants to talk to me, but they don’t want me to leave.

My entire life they never had a problem leaving me behind. In many different ways. Physically and emotionally.

I’m always watching from behind trying to catch up, trying to belong, jumping up and down whispering “pick me, pick me”, they never have and after this long I don’t think they ever will. loneliness-wide


CAUSE I’M A LIAR

The cable bill has been huge for the last several months. I’m the one who pays it. They want us to update our modem or router for our phone. This would mean someone coming into the house and that’s not possible. It’s too much chaos for my oldest dog and for my Dad. I’ve talked to the cable company 6 different times and received different answers from each person. At the end of each call they all told me to talk to someone in the Loyalty Department. We’ve been with the company for 27 years.

I called the Loyalty Department today after speaking to yet another unhelpful person. I was frustrated and feeling like I was in a panic. I dislike making phone calls to begin with. I tried to explain as best as I could what was going on to the man in the Loyalty Department. I guess I was talking to fast because he said “M’am CALM DOWN. I can’t help you if you keep TALKING.” So I felt worse and began to stutter. He made a noise and began to laugh at me. I told him to forget it, I didn’t need help, and hung up crying.

I told my sister this and her response was “I’m sure he didn’t laugh at you. You probably just thought he did because you got yourself all worked up.”

I told my Dad and he said “He did not laugh at you.” and walked out of the room.

They have both personally witnessed someone laugh at, mimic, or make fun of me when I stutter. My Dad was in the Court Room when a Disability Judge did it and I had to restrain him from physically assaulting the Judge. But he doubts me now? My sister was in the Doctor’s office with me when a nurse did it. But she doubts me now? If these people who definitely know better would do it, why wouldn’t a customer service agent from a cable company?

They’re immune to how I feel or what I experience. I don’t blame them. They’ve had to put up with me for years.

But you know who has put up with the most and never doubts me? My best friend. I don’t talk to her often because she works 6 days a week but when I do it’s like no time has gone by.

I talk less and less each day. I have a feeling that’s okay with my family.5013a77dda1042859353823edf870c8c

 

 

 


LETTERS BETWEEN SISTERS (The Response)

This is the response my twin sister wrote me. 

Everyone goes through horrible things and your journey has definitely been particularly violent and ugly, and for that I am sorry.

But I can not keep feeling bad for being normal. If normal means going to therapy on and off for the last 25 years and having my own mental illness diagnosis of General Anxiety. I’ve also been the thin twin and now the fat twin (she was thin until she had her children she is in no way considered fat). Things have been easy for me?!?! (I don’t think I ever said this I said she made it look easy) Living on my own paying my own way, sometimes wondering where my next meal or paycheck was coming from. Working 80 hours a week to keep myself afloat. (I have given her thousands of dollars over the years for her rent and food even when she was living in California. My parents also gave her money. She could’ve live at home for college it was only 15 minutes but insisted on renting an expensive house with her friends that she couldn’t afford.)

Men have treated me badly- one boyfriend actually spit in my face! (She makes it sound like “How dare he?” no one should spit on anyone but comparing it to what I’ve gone through is frustrating) Or maybe dealing with my husband’s alcohol and drug addiction? (She knew about it from the beginning but ignored it for years. I spoke to her about it when I quit drinking and she made excuses for him.) 

Normal would not be walking my sister through her mental illness and electric shock treatment. (This one hurts she did not walk me through my illness she ignored it but she was there for the shock treatment because my Dad couldn’t be.) Or the fact that my mother died two weeks after I became a mother and needed her the most. Or maybe the fact I’ve lost a brother to alcohol and haven’t been able to speak to him for the past 9 years because I can’t support his lifestyle. (It isn’t a lifestyle it’s an illness he’s an alcoholic and I suspect he has other issues too. You don’t just cut someone out when they need you. She stood by her husband for years and he did the same.) 

In fact I feel as if I can’t really count on family at all anymore. (Unless she needs pain pills or a babysitter.) 

I can not apologize for the things I have now. I worked really hard and overcame much to get it. If I stopped being around you it was because I was trying to lead my own life. Also your behavior was so out of control I couldn’t witness it anymore. (I thought she walked me through my mental illness.) But I can not feel guilty or apologize for being who I am. I never feel like I can be enough, do enough, help enough, listen enough or say enough to be the sister or person you want or expect me to be.

 

Maybe I’ve been to harsh on her but she never wanted to listen or know what was going on. My best friend can tell you that. I can’t tell you how many times W. has said to me “You need to accept that she isn’t capable of being there for you and she doesn’t understand.” Maybe W. always understood because she has a degree in Psychology and witnessed everything I went through. W. listened without judgement, she tried to help I just wasn’t in a place where I could listen but at least she tried. W. walked me through my illness. When W. entered my Hospital room after my kidneys failed she was white as a ghost and crying. She hugged me so hard it hurt. My sister didn’t have that kind of reaction. Even W’s mom was upset she said “That’s not my D! What the hell has been going on?” she was crying as she said it. W. never cries unless it has to do with me. Maybe I don’t know what talking about.

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TOO MUCH THERAPY CAN RUIN RELATIONSHIPS

Therapy is beneficial to many people in many ways. When it isn’t beneficial is when it’s used to justify hurtful things you say to people.

My twin sister has a habit of doing this often.

She has told me recently that my Dad never really wanted to spend the time with me that he did, he felt he had to because he was afraid I would hurt myself or drink. She also said he never liked the movies or TV shows that I forced him to watch.

I felt sick, sad, guilty, angry, lost, and alone. Most of this is probably true. Which leaves me feeling how I used to years ago. Worthless and unwanted.

Physically something is going on that I don’t really want to deal with. I’m tired of all of it.

I don’t want to be growled at anymore for speaking. I don’t want to repeat myself 5 times when I have trouble talking. I don’t want to beg people to talk to me or like me, it hurts too much.

I need my stents changed but I’m afraid I won’t come out of the anesthesia. I’m worse than I’ve ever been and the doctors have already been concerned about this happening.

The reason anesthesia is a safe place for me is because it’s the same each time. It’s a sunny, happy place with loved ones I can’t be with.

I tired of feeling this way but it’s difficult when the physical is connected to the mental and vice versa. I keep going but it isn’t living.

I have to say I enjoy when my brother in law comes home from therapy and says “My therapist told me…..” and will be the opposite of what my sister believes or wants him to do. She get’s so pissed she actually calls me directly to complain.

Family, what can you do?


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