# What got me here



## wanna go away (May 22, 2012)

This is my first post as a new topic. I hope I am doing it right. I suppose it will be long since I am ononymously speaking. and my spelling sucks.

First off, thank God I found this site...my husband thinks it will only depress me more but I dont think that is possible. So, where do I start?
I have always been a dynamic person, lots of friends, very articulate, sucessful entrepeneur...all roses, no thorns. Then in 2004, a long time bank problem (in the millions) was over in an instant. Corrupt banking caused me to lose it and I lost it big. I didnt realize it then but now I can pinpoint the very second that I experienced depersonalization for the first time. My marriage, my business, my mind...everything became unbearable. I went from managing two large, profitable companies to being afraid of opening a bank statement.

2005 is a blur, I remember trying drugs to relieve what ever had taken over my body. Nothing helped. My poor daughter was only 7 at the time and she suffered the most. Having a mom that you can see but that isnt there must have been horrible. It has definately affected her negatively. I would wake up driving 100 miles an hour down the interstate, daring someone to cross my path and not know how I got there or where I was going or why.

I would "come to" so often that I began to believe I had a physical ailment. Lead poisoning...test came back negative. Mold toxicity...test came back negative. I prayed that something would show up because I was becomming less and less "in" and more and more "out". "What the fuck is wrong with me?" I remember crying out loud. Thanksgiving 2005 was the end. I had ailienated everyone and didn't understand why. I took as many loritabs as I could muster. First it was ten, then twenty, then thirty. Needless to say, I didnt die. I was very disappointed and really messed up when I woke up. At that point I gave up completely. I became the worlds greatest actress, so I thought. If I was having a meltdown, I never told a soul. I began to rebuild my life around my "blank spots". More times than I care to mention, I would be confronted with something I had said or done and not remember. I always could play it off and by doing so, I lost control of the little bit of life I had left. It is the most horrible-est feeling in the world to just agree with what your told and to laugh it off. I continued to rebuild my life with no memory of how I was doing it. The frustration inside me grew.

My husband continued to look inside my eyes hoping to see his wife. He knew the old me and wanted her back soooooo bad. He had no clue as to what to do, hell, for all he knew, I had dementia or an undiagnosed stroke. But he loved me into believing I was going to be ok. It is funny, before 2004, I was the one that told everyone that everything would always be ok. Super-mom, great Aunt, sister, daughter...everything I touched was gold. Every relationship was strong and people radiated to me. Now, well now I was scared to death of a fucking bank statement. I didnt know why those damned bank statements would always leave me crippled. The mail never was opened, at least not by me. Bills? I couldnt figure out how to pay them and that is as elementary as it gets.

2007, my sister dies of colon cancer at 34 years old. "She was sick?", where was I. Now the guilt of not being present in my own body was eating me alive. I watched her die and...well, it is hard to talk about. That put me in bed for a long time. I was just "sick". I didnt "feel good". I didnt bathe nor did I get up with my daughter to see her off to school. She soon left to live with her dad. I was so fucked up that I couldnt understand why she didnt want to live with me. She didnt know who I was but she did know that the only way she could be with me was to lay with me in bed and that I stunk. My cat became my only confidant.

2010, the devastating life I had given my daughter had come back to haunt me. She had done some things that got her thrown out of her dads and she needed me. In order to let her finish up the school year, I moved back home with my parents and she stayed there with me.

My family could not believe the hollow person I was and a cousin got me an appointment with a health department doctor. I had already been to doctors so I wasnt hopeful. Boy was I wrong. After vials and vials of blood tests, the doctor asked me when I remembered feeling "good". I thought and on my next visit I told him it was around 2004. By this time, I had a laundry list of "symptoms", aches, pains, memory loss, swollen spleen, distended belly, 60lbs of weight gain in short time, stuttering, speach slurred and sometimes incapable of finishing a sentence. There were more but you get the picture. PTSD was the diagnosis. Dear Lord! A mental problem, no, no, no! I was sick, really sick. I began wellbutrin and for the first time in a long time, I began to see myself. It was like I was running with my eyes wide shut and couldnt see myself. I gave my therapy everything I had because my daugter needed me soooo badly. I had mentally abandoned her at such a young age but was there physically. How confusing for her little mind.

Along with knowledge came guilt. Maybe I didnt want to get better if I had to own up to my destructive nature, but there was my daughter...my contribution to the world had been damaged by me. I continued therapy and she began.

I remember when my therapist asked me what it was like when I was having a "meltdown" as I called it. Going crazy in my head, crazy thoughts, crazy everything. Not very helpful so I started a diary and boy was I ever surprised. The following is a portion of one of my episodes and I dont remeber any of it. I used my phone as my diary and when ever I would start to feel that "wierd" feeling, I would start typing....

"October 31: full blown attack...head under pillow because the light is pouring into my brain like a beacon of light. Makes thoughts harder to thynk? Idk. Yellow signs with words replaced with yellow signs coming at me at light speed. left eye wont focus, Darkness just takes away the pain from the light. If I lay down I will feel better but it doesnt work. and that is not a good feeling to know that nothing is gonna help this go away. Muscles spasm at the drop of a pin. Spinning signs leave trails or maybe it is like the ripple from a rain drop on water. I hate feeling like this. The pillow shouldnt even be held up by my head because I dont feel real, like Im not here. Like I was never born and the pillow should not be on the bed beneath my head. I feel so crazy, spinning, spinning, spinning...please stop. I want the signs back, I cant even think, this entry is the hardest thingn but if I dont type it and i dont remember this black out then how can I fix myself? breathe, breathe, breathe, that ISNT FUCKING WORKING. A blower in me head blowing my thoughts around and I am trying to catch them with no arms. Relax...brtahe, tears are burning my facce and making my pillow and bed and hair wet but I am not crying. They are pouring out of my eyes with every ripple I cant see. I dont want to be here, I didnt used to be like thism why wont it stip? legs nunb, arms and hands invisible, am i really reall? I am so ashamed of myself gor being like this..."

It took me 8 hours to type the entry. I left the mispellings in there. I do not remember this episode. This is one of the most debilitating ones. I have many entries where I am convincing myself that we are going to be fine if we just cook dinner and wash the dishes...I come to the next day while in the shower. "What the fuck?" Where am I? Panic sets in and it starts all over again...we will be fine if we just get dressed. If I didnt use my phone and the familiarity of typing on it, I dont know that I could have made it this far. Who is that person? I do not have multiple personalities, it is just me in here, but I am able to completely vacate my body at the drop of a hat and keep on functioning like I was inside myself, not somewhere else. Thank God for xanax, it is hard to leave my self when I am all soft and warm from xanax. "crazy people talk"

My daughter has become my biggest advocate as I am hers. She can see me fade away while others keep talking away. She helps me to find humor in my disorder. Her favorite is to say "hey mommy, didnt you say i could..." and she will fill in the blank with some outlandish event like spend the night with her boyfriend. But then she smiles at my panic and shakes her head and giggles. My beautiful little damaged angel.

If you have read this far, you are a glutten for punishment, lol. I have never actually put it all together like this and it has helped for the moment. At least until the fucking bank statemnet comes in or someone mentions my sister. Hell, to tell you the truth, I dont really even know if I will remember typing this entry. Sooooo useless as a person but I am still here. Wish I wasnt, but I am. I must have a purpose other than breathing up precious air.


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