💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~semaphore › gemlog › 20230923.gmi captured on 2023-09-28 at 16:34:30. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
,----. ,--.
' .-./ ,---. ,--,--,--.| | ,---. ,---.
| | .---.| .-. :| || || .-. || .-. |
' '--' |\ --.| | | || |' '-' '' '-' '
`------' `----'`--`--`--'`--' `---' .`- /
`---'
Sat 23 Sep 2023
In 2016 I wasn’t even able to take the kids shopping while staying functional for the rest of the day. A spot of PTSD had me over sensitive to risk, and had me making parenting decisions using improper and unhelpful assessments. I was pretty hopeless.
Those of us who have PTSD have it for different reasons, the impacts get kicked off for different reasons, and the impacts themselves are all different. There are some commonalities between us – from the more physical symptoms, to the fact there we have unwanted and unnecessary impacts on our everyday. But other than that, it can feel like a very lonely experience.
I had adapted my thinking and behaviour to environments of high risk, but in my ‘normal’ everyday life, away from these environments, these adaptions were maladaptive. They were crippling my ability to be the man I needed to be. I didn’t sleep, for the same reasons that none of us with PTSD don't sleep, and this was compounding the problem. Something had to change.
After conversations with long-suffering loved ones, I went to a GP. That first conversation was the hardest one – I had no vocabulary to describe my experiences, or what I was wanting. I was also wondering if this random person would think I’m being a sook, or just failing to deal with regular adult responsibilities. It took me a while to realise I needn't have worried about that.
What also helped was that I was lucky enough to find a counsellor who had themselves had similar experiences in a similar environment. It meant I didn’t need to explain much of the experiences, and we shared a vocabulary for my learned responses. And thank the gods – I can't think of much worse than sitting there and churning over it all.
And, like water dripping on stone, there was change. Little by little. Step by step. Sometimes the change was so incremental I didn’t notice or felt frustrated by the thought that I was standing still. Sometimes an experiment didn’t work, and I needed to try another route to where I wanted to be. Sometimes a strategy was an instant winner.
Eventually, I got to 6 hours sleep a night. Then, even more eventually still, was a trip to Melbourne for lunch. Just for an hour, and right near the train station. But I went to Melbourne and it went well. Success! Little by little, with continued persistence, there was success.
Today I’m on the way back from Sydney with my sons, having spent a week moving through completely unfamiliar environments to have entirely new experiences. I’m tired, and I’m functional. To be perfectly honest, I’m actually quite a lot better than merely functional – I’m feeling so good that I’m already thinking of next time.
I still have PTSD, and I’m still impacted. I’m pretty sure that won’t ever change. What /has/ changed is my ability to manage my thinking, responses, physiological reactions, and energy. These changes have meant I’m able to move around *almost as though I don’t have* PTSD.
The goal has stayed the same as when I started my counselling and repair – It is to have *me* be the only person impacted by my PTSD.
Even if it’s unattainable, there’s reason to celebrate: I’m close to my goal.