PTSD, maybe

My wife and I have always been the type to suck it up and deal. Last night though I was overwhelmed. I cried for the first time since my grandfather died and at 6am I woke my wife up because I couldn’t take it anymore. Eight hours in bed I struggled with my racing thoughts, tormented by the things I’ve been through.

In 2016 I suffered the worst psychotic break of my life. Just six months after being married I went into a six month long episode. I saw hallucinations I’ll never forget, still as vivid as the day I experienced them. I felt fear that still gives me chills to this day. It all ended with my wife and I homeless, eight hours from the place we lived and dealing with my toxic mother Who needless to say, exacerbated things beyond belief.

I wasn’t even fully in my right mind before my wife and I moved back, just two long months later. A short amount of time went by before I was back to work but it would be two months into that job before I felt like I was normal again.

A few months later my wife and I moved in to take care of my grandfather. Over a year my wife and I took care of him before he passed back in June 2018. Before last night, that was the last time I had cried.

A few months after that I put in my two weeks and started a new job at an auto parts store where after 4-5 months, they decided to promote me to a manger.

It’s now September of 2019, three years after the most traumatic experience of my life and I’m still broken.

After eight long hours in bed I woke my wife to explain how I’ve been feeling, not just last night but for the last three years. I told her about the numbness. I told her how when I wasn’t occupied how my mind would tear me apart. I told her how my palms would get sweaty and about how when I got stressed my whole body would tremble, my hands are the worst.

I feel as though my armor is cracked and that I can no longer hide the fear, stress and emotional brokenness that I’ve felt. I’ve always bounced back from a mental breakdown like a champ, able to hit the ground running and never look back. I fear that this isn’t the case this time. I try to let go, I really do but somehow, some way, the memories always seem to drag me down.

I’m not one to succumb to anxiety. Yet since opening up last night, I feel as if my heart has been wanted to give out. I’ve had on and off pain in my chest for 17 hours now and there’s no end in sight. I’m scared to lay down for bed tonight because I don’t feel like I can handle two nights in a row of this. I’m begging myself, pleading just for a peaceful night. I just want to be at peace.

I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this lost for direction. I don’t have health insurance but I feel like I have to see a therapist. I feel like my illness has cracked my soul for Good and all I can do is move forward.

They say adversity breeds strong individuals. Well I better have what it takes because this isn’t the end of the line for me.

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