I first wondered if this could explain some things I was thinking and feeling when I read in the book, “Crazy Sexy Cancer” that cancer patients with long drawn out treatments were being compared to having similar emotional reactions as soldiers coming home from battle and rape victims. All having similar life threatening and life altering incidents that changed how they would always emotionally respond and feel; though it would have never occurred to compared myself to a rape victim or soldier of war, I understood. The constant state of feeling that your life is in imminent danger for an extended period of time, can be emotional altering. Even when in reality you should be feeling safe, you don’t.
I just heard a movie quote from a solider saying, “The whole time I was over there, all I lived for, dreamed of and longed for was to come back here. And now that I’m here, all I can think about is going back.” This I understand. Crazy? I thought?
Thankfully the therapist today said to me, “No, not crazy, normal.” I do believe that for the first time in my life, that word sounds so good to me. Normal. I’m not sure I know how, to be normal, but I’m going to try. She says it will probably include weeping, not moving, just feeling, and allowing someone I trust the most to pull me up and dust me off when I’m good and ready. (Whenever that is.)
I’ve spent a lot of energy through my entire life not allowing myself to get on the floor because I was afraid I wouldn’t get back up. My heart is in good hands and so is my soul, I’m ready.
My ears will block all noises such as, “Get a grip!”, Pull yourself together”, “This isn’t like you.”, “What are you doing, do you need help?!?!”, “I thought you were stronger than that.”, “This can’t be healthy.” I choose to ignore all of the above and they have no place in my life or my recovery.
Perhaps you won’t hear from me for awhile. Chris will hear me and so will my medical team on a regular basis. I know I’ll be fine, but if you don’t mind ( and I don’t care if you do or not to be honest) I’m going to fall apart now. And I’ll be back eventually.
Definition:
Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is an emotional illness that develops as a result of a terribly frightening, life-threatening, or otherwise highly unsafe experience. PTSD sufferers re-experience the traumatic event or events in some way, tend to avoid places, people, or other things that remind them of the event (avoidance), and are exquisitely sensitive to normal life experiences (hyper arousal). Although this condition has likely existed since human beings have endured trauma, PTSD has only been recognized as a formal diagnosis since 1980. However, it was called by different names as early as the American Civil War, when combat veterans were referred to as suffering from "soldier's heart." In World War I, symptoms that were generally consistent with PTSD were referred to as "combat fatigue." Soldiers who developed such symptoms in World War II were said to be suffering from "gross stress reaction," and many who fought in Vietnam who had symptoms of what is now called PTSD were assessed as having "post-Vietnam syndrome." PTSD has also been called "battle fatigue" and "shell shock." Complex posttraumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) usually results from prolonged exposure to a traumatic event or series thereof and is characterized by long-lasting problems with many aspects of emotional and social functioning.
Monday, September 29, 2008
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4 comments:
Hi Feather,
I have been a long time reader, but first time to respond.
You are truly an amazing woman---one with faith, character, courage and a real example of what it means to love our Maker.
I often read your blog and cry, as a mother of two young girls I felt your pain in so many ways. I often laughed and more often than not walked away from the computer and simply said, "Oh God, be with her."
I just want you to know that you are a true inspiration to me; as a mommy, a wife and sister in the Lord.
I will continue to pray and uplift you. That you will feel His strength and that your days will be filled with laughter and a sense of contentment and peace.
Here's to you Feather...
Hi Feather,
I respect you so much for your honesty - bless you!
What you write makes so much sense and I'm glad to hear that you are taking care of yourself and doing what YOU need to do.
We will continue to pray for your physical and emotional healing and care deeply about you.
Love,
Flo
Feather... I hope that you don't stop writing. As I am still going through the whole process, you've shown me that I'm not alone in a lot of the things I'm feeling. As I take my morphine every few hours, I often think of you, and how you've made it - especially when you posted a few months ago that you're no longer taking any medication for pain! I have to admit - I was jealous. No more side effects from the drugs - no more constipation! No more drowsiness so severe you fall asleep in your dinner, or while going to the bathroom.
I find I relate so much to everything you say - especially from going from a very independant person to one who can't do some of the most basic things - and having to rely on others. I think that was the hardest thing of all - taking the help that others offered, and admitting I wasn't the 'superwoman' I used to be.
I can't say I understand yet how you are feeling about being well... how it's possible that you can feel sadness or anger about being well again. I'm hoping some day that's possible.
So, from all of us who read your blog regularly, I'd like to say "Thanks so much" for being so honest and willing to share so much of your journey - both the good and the bad.
Renee could have not said it better what I also feel about you and all that you have been through. Rest my child and know that you are in the Lords hands.
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