I was diagnosed with CPTSD like 6 years ago, but I've had it for at least 8. I don't even think the trauma is "that bad". There are so many who had it way worse, but for some reason my brain has made it its life mission to torment me 24/7. Anti-depressants somewhat help, but it doesn't help the underlying cause. I just have fewer panic attacks and don't want to actively kill myself *as much*. The self-hatred, the flashbacks, the confusion when anyone does anything remotely nice, the dissociation, all still there. I finally got health insurance so I can see a therapist, and I have nearly every damn week for going on a year. He's a great therapist, it's just my own trust issues and personal failings I don't know how to fix and can't seem to.
I made the decision last week that I won't be getting another dog. I have two right now, and they're the only reasons I'm alive right now. I was abandoned as a kid (many times), I can't stoop that low. I'd be just as bad as they are. So, when my younger dog dies, so will I. Or if my older dog somehow outlives him, then I'll die when he dies instead. I'll request to be buried with both of them (one dog's ashes and the other's body).
Now, I get to prepare everything and make myself comfortable. I'm so fucking sick of living like this. I'm estimating another ~10 years, which feels like so fucking much, but it's less than 50-60 more years. I haven't entirely given up, I am still going to see my therapist, I'm still pursuing medication, and I am trying to see if I can get into an MDMA study to see if it will help. Maybe something will change between now and then, but so far nothing has really worked, or if it might, it's inaccessible to me.
Somehow, I feel so much better after making this decision. That my suffering has an expiration date. I posted on Reddit and of course got hit with all the "Don't do it" people, and they can never actually tell me why. They also don't know me, so how the fuck can they tell whether my life is worth it or not? It's just a bunch of shitty meaningless platitudes. And when you don't immediately go "You're right, thank you, you just cured me!", they get mad. Depression is only acceptable if you have the "easy" kind. No one cares about you when you have the hard, ugly kind. Then you're just "choosing" to feel this way. NO I AM NOT. My brain is literally out to fucking get me but you're so goddamn privileged you can't grasp the horrors that haunt me THAT I DO NOT CHOOSE. You think I *like* being like this???? The exhaustion of being self aware enough to realize why I'm feeling this way but being powerless to stop it. Fight my anxiety with logic? Yeah ok, that'll lead me to a two week long Law and Order style court case and I still can't convince myself. Which is more exhausting than just being an anxious mess.
But I digress. Thanks for letting me vent a little at the end. It just feels better knowing the people here Get It and I don't have to worry about the police being called or thrown in a hospital to be dehumanized.
I made the decision last week that I won't be getting another dog. I have two right now, and they're the only reasons I'm alive right now. I was abandoned as a kid (many times), I can't stoop that low. I'd be just as bad as they are. So, when my younger dog dies, so will I. Or if my older dog somehow outlives him, then I'll die when he dies instead. I'll request to be buried with both of them (one dog's ashes and the other's body).
Now, I get to prepare everything and make myself comfortable. I'm so fucking sick of living like this. I'm estimating another ~10 years, which feels like so fucking much, but it's less than 50-60 more years. I haven't entirely given up, I am still going to see my therapist, I'm still pursuing medication, and I am trying to see if I can get into an MDMA study to see if it will help. Maybe something will change between now and then, but so far nothing has really worked, or if it might, it's inaccessible to me.
Somehow, I feel so much better after making this decision. That my suffering has an expiration date. I posted on Reddit and of course got hit with all the "Don't do it" people, and they can never actually tell me why. They also don't know me, so how the fuck can they tell whether my life is worth it or not? It's just a bunch of shitty meaningless platitudes. And when you don't immediately go "You're right, thank you, you just cured me!", they get mad. Depression is only acceptable if you have the "easy" kind. No one cares about you when you have the hard, ugly kind. Then you're just "choosing" to feel this way. NO I AM NOT. My brain is literally out to fucking get me but you're so goddamn privileged you can't grasp the horrors that haunt me THAT I DO NOT CHOOSE. You think I *like* being like this???? The exhaustion of being self aware enough to realize why I'm feeling this way but being powerless to stop it. Fight my anxiety with logic? Yeah ok, that'll lead me to a two week long Law and Order style court case and I still can't convince myself. Which is more exhausting than just being an anxious mess.
But I digress. Thanks for letting me vent a little at the end. It just feels better knowing the people here Get It and I don't have to worry about the police being called or thrown in a hospital to be dehumanized.
