I've been so proud of myself. I've done well this month. Actually, I'm just going to be honest, I've done good this month, very good. But I think it's happening again, I'm starting to not be okay. I guess it first started Wed. I had my first "3" of the month. Everything got to me, I was just agitated. Then yesterday I had a 4, I was okay. Then today, back to a 3, wondering if I'm really a 2. I feel like I'm starting to disconnect from reality a bit. I'm anxious, paranoid, I want to cry. I feel confused, scared, just not with it at all. I feel like I can't control myself, my thoughts, my feelings. The triggers.
I've told the story a lot recently. Now that it's the month, people forget exactly what happened and how, the details. Was DH there, not there, they were born how far apart? Died in me or out of me? Taking the pics, planning what was supposed to be a gender reveal, but instead meeting them in person. Crying as I'm typing this, I'm trying to just let myself grieve and say it's okay to be sad, to cry, to hurt. I love them and therefore it hurts. I carry them in my heart, always, but I should have the struggles of infant twins and a toddler. Craziness, exhaustion, and happiness, pure bliss. Instead I have a life sentence without my kids, a life sentence to PTSD where grief has become something more than just grief. Where I'm trying to find myself and I don't know where I went. When I hate who I've become. I'm sitting in my office at work just crying, crying, crying. I have to go home soon and put on a different face for my mom, a different face for Katie. I should've known it was going to come back. Am I really doing okay? Is that the fake part? Am I okay and today is just hard because some days just are? I don't know.
I started getting paranoid about work evals, like losing my mind over it. It doesn't make sense. I do my job, not in trouble, been asked to even do some extra based on my strengths and special skills. Told not to worry, but I'm frozen, paralyzed in fear. Living in this world where I'm alone and no one understands. A world where nothing in my head says anything good and the flashbacks, the memories, the pictures, it's all a nightmare. My children, those last moments. Being told it was goodbye when all I could think about was hello. One min full of joy and hope, the next moment gone. A year later wondering who I am, what I am, what now?
If you're reading this, this is my mind in PTSD hits. This is the hell I'm trying to escape. The one where it's my fault they died. The one where I feel like a person who doesn't deserve life, love, kindness, anything. The one that hates myself with everything within me. The one that is trying to be normal, but isn't. I'm letting myself cry and trying to breathe the way I practiced in counseling. I'm trying to tell myself that the thoughts are not true, that it's the PTSD, not the real thing. It's what I'm working hard to overcome, to do better with. Tug of war, yin yang, back and forth. The pendulum swings. Is this going to be my life forever? Is there a way to make this better?
I have a consult with my RE on Tuesday. It's just a consult to discuss testing prior to any medicated cycle. Doing testing and a consult doesn't mean I have to jump into anything I'm not ready for. I'm still assessing, still working with my tools, still trying to get better. Still trying to climb out of it, even though it sucks me back in. Trying to stay in the here, trying to ground myself. Trying to be okay. Trying to rationalize myself, argue with the dark voices, the memories, the way I view myself. Trying to tell myself this happened to all of us, not just them and it wasn't me who did it. It just happened. I did all I could with the knowledge I had, I went to the doctor, I went to the ER. If I knew to do it, I did it. No one saw how sick I was. No one, except my FIL commenting on my lack of color and looking sickly, but he was the only one.
I'm telling myself and I'm going to keep repeating it that this is just a hurdle, just a phase. I'll go home and then use my coping skills, the positive ones. The meditation, the coloring, the breathing, letting myself feel and cry and get out the grief. When it's empty I'll be okay again. It's going to be okay. It has to be okay.