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PTSD and CSA stuff (hope that triggers obvious)

Posted by Partlycloudy on November 3, 2008, at 15:26:18

I'm now dealing with the PTSD brought on from the *fully* (gawd, I sure hope so) memories from my CSA. My sleep is all messed up - all of a sudden I'm having trouble falling asleep, I'm having horrible dreams of a huge variety, I'm having anxiety IN MY SLEEP - I only know this because I keep waking up with my chest incredibly tight, feeling like I've been breathing really shallowly. And I'm getting up in the morning feeling like crap, because although I'm sleep a lot, I'm not getting much restful sleep.

My panic attacks, long - I thought - in my past, have abruptly returned. They show up in the most inconvenient places and during the worst times.

I'm in a perpetually foul mood.

I've been doggedly trying to work my way through the CSA book my therapist lent me, and every time I've done the writing exercises, my back has gone into spasms.

My T had wanted me to try to work my physical way through this discomfort - actually work up a sweat. I've been able to distract myself with tasks like washing my kitchen floor by hand. Ironing practically the entire contents of my closet. Not sweat-inducing, but soothing in their mindlessness. Then I remembered what one of my past kitties was like at the vet's. He was scared witless - a snarling, hissing, biting, scratching mass of fear. That pretty much sums up where I am right now. The best vet tech who knew how to deal with him simply tossed a towel over the poor frightened beast, and he peaced out pretty quickly. Take away the sensory input (put him in the dark and not allow him to try to run away) and a bit of calm was able to creep in a bit. So instead of trying to sweat and run my way through this bit of present crisis I'm finding myself in, I find I'd prefer a blanket to be tossed over me. My back is still SCREAMING at me to be tended to - I rather think that washing the floor on my hands and knees, and doing hours of ironing, is not really helping in that respect. My headaches have been pretty bad - 2 or 3 a week. Today I had a visit with my neurologist. He asked me what the heck was going on.

He got the full story from me. Tears and everything. "Who else have you told?" he asked, quietly and gently. Just my therapist and when I told her, my husband was sitting beside me in the taxicab, I replied. "Wow," he said. He shook my hand at the end of my appointment (he's never done that before), and said that I've started on an important journey that was a long time in coming.

Wrote me a scrip for Ambien. Upped my migraine prophylactic. Tomorrow I have an emergency appointment with my pdoc, which I made at my therapist's request. I felt so guilty when I called, but also felt relief in acknowledging that I'm suffering right now, and that I need real help. Then I see my T on Wednesday.

Inevitably, onwards. There is no way back now.

 

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poster:Partlycloudy thread:860582
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20081018/msgs/860582.html