Time provides perspective.
I’ve seen a lot of doctors since my big event in April 2016 and not one of them called what happened to me a “nervous breakdown” but that’s what happened. I understand that now. And my “seizures” are anxiety attacks but doctor Shoja has never called them that in spite of me asking her what they were.
It seems her policy is to let her patients discover and label things on their own. She doesn’t lead or use labeling vocabulary, but I am certain the interruptions I experience in my day-to-day life are anxiety attacks.
It all seems so simple, plain and mundane to me now. I’m a common variety fuck-up.
Kelsey’s notes to her boyfriend (three posts ago) opened my eyes to how common anxiety disorders are — how, as I say, “mundane” my condition is. One in thirteen people!
Still … it turned my life upside down. I went into it in a tiny downtown condo and came out of it in a log cabin on an island.
I often describe images or tell stories to answer Dr. Shoja’s questions. (She loves my disconnected co-pilot metaphor to describe my life with C-PTSD.) I have a new one for her that occurred to me last night. I was searching for a way to describe my current experience/relationship with my emotions and I came up with this: When I was a kid, I “pulled the plug on my motherboard.”
I suddenly had a mental image of a speaker cord with its protruding metal prong that you shove into a hole on the speaker. When you insert it, you hear a satisfying “snap” is it engages.
It occurred to me that, as a child, I found the cable that connected interpersonal emotions to my mind — the motherboard — and I pulled it out, fed up with the endless pain and disappointments, and I lived my whole life disconnected until my breakdown. No wonder I’m single. No wonder Steve left. I had no idea what love or trust was.
I feel connected now and it’s overwhelming. Hence, the anxiety attacks. But on the plus side, I’m re-thinking myself — reconsidering the significant incidents of my life “through the lens” of my new understanding and shedding shame I’ve carried for decades.
My breakdown was very challenging to endure, particularly at its onset; acceptance, understanding and adaptation is an ongoing exercise. But I’m glad it happened. I’m glad the cord is back in its socket.
Last night was loud and disruptive in Pinecone Park & Spa. The cats were racing around the house and knocking things over. I closed my bedroom door so Her Highness and I were left alone in peace. I woke to it at 1:00 am.
At 4:25 it was still going on so I got up and discovered a bat flying around in the house. I’ve no idea how it got in. I never leave a door or window open that isn’t screened.
I don’t know what to do. Consultations are in order later in the day.
Dinner Saturday night was a huge success. Sue and Fran loved all I made and we had lots of laughs. They were here earlier in the week when Fred and Ethel ran up my huge tapestry and pulled it down, wreaking havoc on the things displayed below. They loved my complete indifference to the incident.
Sunday I lit a fire for a treat. I like a lovely cozy lazy day with Sheba tuckered out from our community dog walk in the morning. And I had a surprise in the afternoon! Jude called from the lineup for the Gabriola ferry. She came for a fun but short visit; all it involved really was lunch at The Kitchenbut she’ resolved to return with her man in July. (She was the Adoption Reunion agent who reunited me with my birth mother.)
I went to bed exhausted at 8:00. The sun was sill shining but I was pooped and today is a workday. Vanessa comes to haul away my construction detritus so I’m spending the day hauling it from behind the shed out into the courtyard.
Tonight I’ll be going to bed early again, I’m sure.