Tag Archives: ptsd

Cha cha changes

I have a new doctor. He’s proactive and says I can do better than ok. He’s changed my meds from 150mg of zoloft to 5mg of lexapro. Now for the new side effects. What fun!



I thought things would be better when I moved back. They are not.

I’m living in the country by myself which is great but everytime I come up to the city I am insomniac once more.

I feel like my skin is alien. I am not me. The drugs are killing my mind. My words are gone. My breath is gone. My agility and balance are gone. I haven’t showered in over a week. My hands tremble and my head aches.

I am going back to conselling soon. I hope that this one will be better than the last one cos I can’t put up with another crappy shrink.

Am I going to be depressed for ever? Is that a life?

I’m a fucked up girl in a fucked up world…

My ankles and feet have been severely swollen for at least eight months and someone suggested that it might be a heart thing. Yesterday I asked one of my doctor friends to listen to my herat. He discovered a systolic murmur. I know that I’ve got to get an ultrasound to be sure but fucking hell. How many diseases can one person have?

  • PCOS
  • lump in breast
  • PTSD
  • Compassion fatigue
  • And now a heart murmur

So I stopped smoking. It’s my second day clean and I miss the smokes. I miss the inhalation, the feeling of coolness, the whole shebang. But I have stopped and I will not take anyother puff.  I am so tempted but I must not.

When friends wound II

I know that friends can be careless and so I’m trying not to take what BJ said to heart. Just because he triggered me with a remark, doesn’t mean I have to never respond to him again. I’ve been mentally composing an email since my crying fit to explain to him why I am upset. I think to say “I thought you stronger than that” when a person is depressed is cruel but I know he didn’t mean to be cruel. I don’t think the middle class cis white male that he is can learn. He’s 29 and still living with his parents. Should I write the email? I don’t know.

As for Bon, she’s a nurse so she knows what depression is. She wasn’t speaking as a nurse but as a friend. Should I let the rape jokes pass just because she doesn’t condone rape? Do I have the right to correct her and does she have the right to be offended at the correction? I think I’m in the right but since apparently I appear “hostile” these days, maybe it’s better to bite my tongue and just pretend to be a shiny happy person around her. I’m sure most “friends” won’t give a damn anyway. I just thought she was someone who I could be myself around. Clearly not.

I am lost but not broken, at least yet. Fuck you BJ and Bon, fuck you very much indeed.

When friends wound

I was just chatting to one of my best friends on the other side of the world. I told him that I had PTSD and severe depression and he said to me that he thought I was a stronger person than that. I’m sitting at my keyboard just crying because the image that I’m strong is one that I held on to for so long. I didn’t get help for ages because I’m not weak like others. It’s complete shit of course.

He didn’t mean to be so horrible but he was and it hurts so much. I feel wounded and vulnerable. I just can’t trust hardly anyone with my feelings.

And yesterday another close friend Bon told me that she’s disappointed to know me now. Before my depression she said I looked like so much fun. Now apparently I come off as hostile. Yeah I corrected her when she said a rape just. Rape is not fucking funny. I know. I’ve been raped twice. She wanted to be friends with me when she thought I was a happy person but apparently as a freak I’m not so fun. I wanted to write that she’s my only girlfriend who is there for me but she isn’t there for me. Now I’ve to play fake happy with her. I can’t do this any more.

I feel completely hopeless