And So it Begins

Not to be a Debbie Downer or anything but I am not looking forward to 2015. Not for any particular reason, just that this morning upon waking instead of feeling the renewed energy of inspiration that my PTSD feelers usually pick up, there is a weight to this year. Almost a dread. A lot of that has to do with this being the ten year anniversary of my most severe abuse and most recent traumatic memories.

Which is CRAZY. As is the norm with PTSD my sense of time is pretty skewed and has been for quite a while, but ten years. Man. It feels like it all happened months ago, still, even after almost two years of therapy and nearly one year of remission. The memories aren’t intrusive or nearly as vivid as they were before, but they are there. Still floating around and in much more detail than before.

Perhaps that’s why I have the feeling of dread this year? Encountering all those anniversaries and putting them in the proper prospective. One of the things I hate the most about the PTSD. Keeping things in prospective. Pairing my PTSD with my BPD definitely doesn’t help matters. I’m still trying to distinguish between triggers for which thing. Lol.

I’m starting to realize a lot of what I thought were PTSD related triggers are actually more of my BPD flair ups. I just call them identity crises to distinguish the two, even though I know that’s technically not he correct term. That’s what it feels like when I flip back and forth between one side of myself and the other. Like a crisis of conscious almost and it happens so quickly with in hours, and then I’m over it. The PTSD stuff lingers for a few days, but even getting it down to just a few days is a miracle considering how long I went undiagnosed and untreated.

And I’m rambling because my brain is still in a fog. Still no news on Little 2, and the longer it wears on the more and more draining and depressing it is. I know a lot of it is probably my hormone levels dropping like a rock, which really is mostly a relief at this point. It’s not that I don’t want to hold out hope for Little 2, I just want it to be over. The longer I have to wait, the more time I have to think and anticipate the pain and everything else on the horizon. Not so much emotional pain because I’ve accepted that part, but the physical pain. Not looking forward to it. Honestly I dread a miscarriage more than labor so waiting for it is just making everything worse.