Hello
world…
Today
I went to the grocery store. I went to the grocery store by myself. I went to
the grocery store by myself, got everything on my list and did not have a panic
attack. On the way home with a trunk full of groceries I cried. Not the
hysterical sobbing, aching cry but I sort of relieved cry. I felt the bindings
loosen a little today, maybe a small piece of the ten thousand ton weight fell
from my heart, a shard of shrapnel was removed.
I’m
writing this because it’s happening now and someone needs to know or someone
will. When I read books about grief the words are rounded and smoothed by
healing, years of healing. I’m in it now, right now. Nothing is smoothed,
nothing is rounded, everything is jagged.
I have
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My trauma was the death of my amazing son. A
dear friend, someone I respect a treasure said to me recently “People need to
know about this!” I had no idea PTSD could be induced by the death of a child
and for a long time I had no idea my symptoms were not “just grief.”
My
(very simplified) understanding of PTSD goes something like this. My mind
absolutely could not process Damon’s death so it completely shut down when it
started to wake up again it partitioned the trauma into its own space in my
head. Because my brain has partitioned itself nothing works correctly and
everything is misfiring…
So,
here is what PTSD is like for me.
I can’t
remember Damon’s death without being there, without reliving it. It’s like
being shoved into a pensieve and not being about to get out, not even knowing
you could get out, not knowing what you are in is a memory. It’s happening
again, except this time I know how it ends. This, I am told, is a key
characteristic of PTSD.
I
cannot function in the “normal” world. Unexpected changes in my day produce
panic attacks. Crowds produce panic attacks and early on not knowing where Will
was (if he went around a corner or went out of my sight) would produce panic attacks.
Loud noises, multiple people talking to me at once, virtually anything that
causes stress or confusion brings on a panic attack. What is a panic attack?
For me it feels like the world is going dark, everything closes off, my heart
rate sky rockets, my breathing becomes rapid, I sweat buckets, I can’t see well
and I definitely can’t think.
Nightmares
& flash backs– relatively self explanatory and I’m not up for going into
it.
My
precious friend wanted to know how she can help someone she loves who she
thinks may be experiencing PTSD. My first response was “you can’t.” That’s
partially true, there’s very little anyone can do outside of a competent
therapist but then I amended. How can you help? Get over the idea that this is
something a person with this disorder can want their way out of. I cannot
control my panic attacks. I cannot control my flashbacks. I cannot stop the
nightmares. I cannot force myself to do anything
and the harder I try the worse it gets. Everyone is different but the thing I
need most from the person I love the dearest is understanding. Understanding,
space and time to do the grief work as I’m ready. I need my beloved to
understand that I don’t want to be like this. My brain is screwed up. It will
take a lot of time and a lot of work to heal the shattered parts.
I don’t
know when I’ll write again. I’m feeling very withdrawn. I very much want to be
alone, to be isolated. Maybe because I’m slowly slowly exposing my wounds but
my friend’s words struck a chord with me and I wanted you to know. I wanted you
to know a little of what it’s like. I want you to know how to help if you’re
the helper and I want you to get help if you’re the shattered. Until next time…
