I’m currently in a vague foggy state where I’m essentially coming down from mania but I’m not fully over the edge into the darkness yet. I feel reckless yet empty, sleep is elusive then fitful but I’m exhausted beyond measure. The emotional dysregulation is destroying me.
The DBT is getting intense, three weeks into the group therapy and it is draining me, although I am understanding the work we are doing, the realisation that this isn’t the light at the end of the tunnel I was looking for has hit me hard.
I always knew this would never be a cure but somehow I still expected some miraculous progress, but instead we are delving deep into the entire process of human emotions. For me this is subject which is fantastic on an intellectual level but when you wake up each day battling your own mind it’s somewhat disappointing. I know I have to give it time but so far the sessions are just leaving me triggered and emotionally wrecked. All I can hope is I can improve enough to function on a semi successful level, that would be enough.
I’ve also recently been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder on top of AVPD and BPD I’ve been prescribed Lyrika (pregabalin) following a dramatic increase in the level of intrusive thoughts and obsessive chains of thought surrounding my son. I have always have intrusive thoughts but ever since JJ was born my mind has just been filled with this relentless idea that he is going to be grievously injured or killed in some way.
It’s horrific, and graphic, I’m not the best at explaining things like this but after explaining it to my doctor she said it’s as if it’s a flashback but it hasn’t happened yet, and that really describes it a thousand times better than I can. The doctor has decided it’s preexisting PTSD from previous life events (abusive upbringing, domestic violence) that has been exacerbated by the mistake made when I was told I had miscarried and subsequently grieved for a thriving baby.
I wonder if the strange state of mind I’m in is due to the medication or simply due to the amount of pressure on me combined with the pressure I put on myself. My only relief is writing and almost everything I write gets scrapped after my anxiety creeps in and whispers in my ear, I’m trying a range of self calming methods along with de-escalation techniques and I am having small successes. Every little success is a victory and I am trying proud of my progress, no matter how small, because even a year ago this would have been impossible.
I guess there isn’t a point to this post, it’s a bit of a cleansing ramble, but if there was it would be not to give up. I’m counting each day as a victory, if I make it through just surviving one day at a time then I’m not giving up, and not giving up means I’m still winning.