Category Archives: scared

Catheter’s Curse Forced To Continue…

For more than Two Years I have endured my Catheter’s Torment… And I came So Damned Close to escaping it this week… Instead, I get to endure its strange ways for even longer now.

There has been nothing but Blinding, Brain-Exploding, White-Hot, Agonising Pain for Days

I have had no sleep for three nights straight — awake all night through solely from blinding agony and extraordinarily constant, non-stop, Bladder Spasms.

The pain wouldn’t even allow me the vague comfort lying in bed. It forces me to sit on the floor, shaking and yelling in agony… For hours and hours on end. If there is any reprieve, it means the pain is less (and in no way gone)… But I still cannot move.

I am constantly Blacking Out — completely losing consciousness, from a few moments to several minutes. This is what the agony & the exhaustion of this situation has done to me. I have even suffered with these episodes for several hours before. They’re frightening. These come from the immense and combined effects of having to endure constant blinding pain and the sheer physical exhaustion of dealing with sleep deprivation and enduring insane levels of Agony that hits nowhere near the 10-Score Pain Scale.

These Black Outs are not just “dropping off”, like you might do if you’re a “bit tired”... It’s not like sleeping, not at all… You don’t even know you’re going off; certainly have no clue if you’ve gone. Coming round, though, is an absolutely Horrible experience…

Upon being roused — which usually can also take a while — I always end up struggling greatly with temporary full amnesia anywhere from a moment or two, up to a lot more than several seconds… And when (not ”if”) it takes a really long time for my existence to come back to me, it’s Freaking Terrifying

Arguably, the really worst part of this problem, is all the Hallucinating. More Vivid… More Real… Than Any Dreams I’ve had… Enough for me to believe they really are real, whilst both experiencing them and even for some time after being roused. It’s one of the biggest reasons I have no idea about any conscious reality when I open my eyes

I cannot argue any of this is new… In fact, that it isn’t, is the entire point… And that it should no longer be occurringbecause I should already have a Suprapubic Catheter by now, meaning

NONE OF THIS SHOULD BE HAPPENING…

Devastation

Five Days Ago…I was supposed to FINALLYGoddamned FINALLY!! —  Get my Suprapubic Catheter Installed…

I was SUPPOSED TO Get. My. Goddamned Life. Back. At least a little bit

However, instead of managing to figure out the First Steps of living with a Suprapubic… I end up in even more Dire Straights than I have been for a while

Quite Frankly, it is unconscionable… And Being So Goddamned Freaking Close to that Finishing Line… Neither my head nor my heart can truly bear it or Process It And What makes it worse is that since then, there has been blisteringly blinding white-hot agony from the Bladder Spasms like nobody’s business…

This should have been concluded by last August (2019)..

But! Not because of the Disppointment — I wish it was, quite frankly!… It’s because that just at that specific time (ha! The time I truly needed that goddamned Suprapubic to be in…!!!😳🤬😤),  two things turned up that really really would have gone So Much Better  if I’d had the surgery before having to deal with those two things…                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      


My (Nightmare) Catheter and I…

… Throwback Thought…

Today, I got a call from Urology stating that the Suprapubic Surgery I have been waiting Two Years For has been Cancelled — Four Days Before it was due (20th March 2020). Due To The Coronavirus Pandemonium.

This was after waiting One Year to see the consultant — on 14th February 2019 — then having to be forced through THREE Pre-Operative Appointments (the first being in May 2019) and a further consultation with Haematology 10 days before the surgery. 

This procedure  should have been completed by August 2019, when the first Pre-Op ran out. Instead, I had to wait an ENTRE YEAR just to get that Surgical Appointment. Which they have now just taken from me mere days before it was due to go ahead.

Now, I face untold amount of further waiting. And therefore, untold amount of further Catheter Expulsions, more agonising pain, more bladder spasms, more of my energy being drained and depleted even further than they already have been, further stresses and anxieties related to this, and no ability to basically go anywhere, lest it falls out whilst I am outside. If I had the actual energy to go. Or the lack of spasms and pain to go. Or, frankly, do much of anything, either.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

First of all, the Catheter in and of itself is painful to have inside my bladder. Bladder spasms are Constant, extremely agonising, and are throughout the day, every day. During each spasm, the pain is so intenseI cannot breathe, and I cannot move. I have to try and calm my physical self down, otherwise any movement at all will result in immediateexpulsion of the Balloon. They can last from seconds, to a few minutes, to half an hour or more. It entirely depends on what it feels like. And with this, comes the obvious bypassing. And eventually, (or extremely rapidly!), the Balloon with inevitably get shoved out by all those spasms I am getting.

Whilst the Catheter is in, I have extreme difficulty moving my bowels. If I manage to go and move my bowels, and more often it’s when I do not, I also have to spend a long time in the bathroom – and almost always over an hour, each and every time – fighting with my body’s reaction to the Catheter, so as to ensure that it does not expel itself. Too often, I lose this battle, but every time I have to try. 

More often than not, I cannot go and move my bowel for days on end — and it has nothing to do with the state of my bowel, and nor am I constipated. Instead, I cannot let myself pass stool on most days, because any stool that is extracted will take that Catheter right out with it. In fact, that happens so often now, it’s a 50-50 chance as to whether it’s a bowel movement or a bladder spasm that pushes them out. In So Many Cases… It’s the two of them Together, in Unison.

There’s also the problem that spasms meant for Peristalsis ends up being sent to my bladder and trigging spasms in there, causing the catheter to immediately be expelled if I don’t take immediate action. This has been going on since before I went to hospital for Sepsis – they were so bad then I literally would scream my lungs out. Now, it’s not quite that bad, but it’s still extremely painful now, regardless.

This issue with the strange interaction with my bowel creates its own [secondary] issues, obviously. Since the stool is technically capable of leaving, could be excreted, it seems ridiculous that I shouldn’t be able to manage it — but I am not willing to have my catheter expelled along with it. The upshot of that, of course, is a lot of bowel issues, because I cannot afford to secrete it if it’s going to also shove the Catheter out along with it.

The thing with that also is that I end up going 2 or maybe 3 times to the bathroom in a day, and often in the early hours of the morning – for instance, this morning I was back in from 3:30am until about 4:15amI often pass out whilst I am there, usually from Exhaustion, and Pain. It’s a difficult, painful, draining trip for me to make, from my room to the bathroom, trying to crawl or drag myself there, then pull myself up onto the toilet using the bars set up for me, which takes a good lot of strength and effort to manage, because I have to hoist my entire body up there and place myself on the toilet, and come back off again, using just my arms. 

The implications of the Catheter expelling is horrendous. It’s not straightforward. It’s not simple. It’s not easy. It comes out with the Balloon intact, each and every time. It triggers even more spasms, which are even more intense. Causes Retention. Becomes nothing less than Blinding AgonyIt Requires Treatment in the shortest Possible Time, or it spasms shut.

And it’s (almost literally) happened too many times to count over the past Two Years — in some cases I have had more Catheters within a single month than almost everybody else has In One Year. 

The problem is that as soon as the Catheter comes out, everything goes into a locked-in spasm around my pelvis — my Gluteus, the top of my legs, and my bladder — and it is AgonisingThe Bladder Spasms then almost do not stop at allIf there is any amount of what is basically leakage from the bladder, it feels like acid, then I cannot breathe or move, like with all the other bladder spasms I get..

I have found out (to my detriment, and over many instances) that If The Catheter Is Out For More than Three Hours, it is almost impossible to get another one in. It requires high doses of extra Oramorph. To say this is Highly Stressful and Distressing is a damned understatement and a half. I hate it. A lot.

This becomes a big problem if a certain someone answers the phone there (and by that, I mean I literally don’t know who they are, but it’s always the same person doing it).. When my mother calls up the district nurses during the day (or even if I somehow manage to), and a certain person answers the phone at the District Nurse’s office, I am lucky if I see anyone that day, frankly. I do not know who this person is, since she has never given her name to me — but she is… Surly. Dismissive. Rude. Downright Actively Refuses To Listen. Doesn’t Take My Situation Seriously WhatsoeverOne time, I was in tears because of her — I was Desperate for someone to reinsert the Catheter ASAP, but instead, I was very rudely told that I was fine and there was nothing wrongdespite my telling her several times I was in great pain and in Retention! If she is one of the nurses, I hope she never comes to see me. She is awful, insensitive, cruel and rude.

On that day [that I cried], I was pushed back in the queue so far down, and I was in Desperate Agony and Retention Long before anyone came. Despite first calling in at around 3pm with a Catheter Expulsion, she put me on the back-burner over and over, until I was on the Out of Hours List, and only seen to around SEVEN HOURS LATER.

It then took 20-30 minutes to get a Catheter back inincluding requiring a total of 10ml (20mg) Extra of Oramorph to settle the Massive Spasms & Retention my body had gone into during that time. 

The more the Catheter comes out, the more drained and exhausted, and non-functional from it, I become. This last time it came out, it was On. My. Birthday… at around 5am… I was seen to around 8:30am by Out Of Hours. The rest of the day involved anything but celebrating. Instead, on my 39th Birthday, I was upstairs in my room, crippled with the severe spasms and immense pain that comes with every new catheter, frankly wishing that I was dead. That is no way to spend anybody’sday, let alone birthday. And yet, that is my Every Day.

The knock-on effect of all this is Life-Changing. In a Very Bad Way. The Frank Truth is that I am Very Miserably, Permanently Housebound. All day, Every day. To Go Outside Now— it’s a minefield of balancing and battling a multitude of issues, other Conditions, medication, extra pain relief, Catheter Go-Bags, Extra Pads, and going only in reasonable reach of a functional 24hr A&E.

My Mental Health hasn’t just been affected — it has been Damaged Immeasurably… Or destroyed… My Confidence Just Vanished. Shame & Self-Loathing Runs Rampant. Utterly Depleted Exhaustion is a way of life. My Autism is permanently on a knife’s Edge of TMI Sensory Overloads and constant threats of Meltdowns, driven by the unknown, by chaos, by fear, by pain, by tumultuous things and never ending Extreme Stress. My AgoraphobiaBPD, and other Anxieties have flared severely and with a vengeance. My Depression is fully alive and well, along with despair and hopelessness. Once again, I struggle with my will to live… It’s too, too, too Exhausting to manage or even think about it.

The reason it quite often lasts more than a few days these days, is literally that I Do Not Move, or Gonywhere. Ever… Because I Just I Can’t. The result is that the lack of movement means the muscles around the catheter balloon are less likely to activate. It’s a double-edged sword…

And I shouldn’t be faced with either of those sides. Just trying to do anything, results in more expulsions, so I am forced to be as sedentary as possible, which I hate! The thing is, that if I ever need to do anything that involves a lot of effort, or moving around on the floor, it will not stay in. Not only that, but beforehand the pain and intensity of the spasms become immensely agonising.

It traps me inside a body that is already severely limited. Disabled my more than anything else does. Dictates Everything about me, my life, my family’s life… I am becoming Damaged and Traumatised by this, beyond repair. And yet, now, despite fighting So Goddamned Hard and being being So Goddamned Close… we have no idea If or When they might get round to doing this again for me…

Maybe Making This My Forever.


I. Just. Cannot. Catch. A. Break. I am beyond Utterly EXHAUSTED. Another Goddamned Morning From ALL HELL…

AND I am in a LOT of pain, in my back – To make matters rather worse, the bed (Hypnos Mattress) requires flipping, and it causes a lot of pain when it’s getting soft and unsupportive.

This time it was the goddamned dogs again… Barking, even bloody howling, at the door… For Gods know what! But they were going ballistic – and Dad was doing absolutely nothing to help… They were edging on Red-Zone-Gone and he really didn’t understand this.

So – I Slid Down, All. The. Way. Down. The stairs to get to them. Souly went immediately quiet; Buddy did not. I focused on Buddy, then he went ape-shit crazy when I compronted him with a “Tch-Bite” with my hand – So, I picked him up by his collar to standing (as I do with Souly), and the damned Wackadoodle went and Nipped me… Cheeky Fuck! Cats do far worse than him when they’re chilled, so it was hardly anything to experience — but… The Damned Cheek of It!!!!

Well, He got Alpha Rolled (so much easier than Soul, who knew…!!…). Souly was pulled back because he lost his temper a bit at Buddy. Then I really let rip into them. A LOT. And I was furious with them for creating such a bloody Fracas! 

After that, some planes turned up, so they both just cowered. Not sure if it didn’t help make my point more, actually, showing something to be afraid of as part of my arse-ripping…? Well, I let them go, and had to then face the fact I had to climb my way back upstairs.

I did it – pulling one knee up at a time, leaning on the opposite side for stability, then hauling myself up each goddamned step.

I just about managed to make it up when I had to turn to comfort & soothe Souly more, for several more minutes on the stairs, when the building site noises across the road by the (former, now) primary school and Bedol land were upsetting him again, and making him bark. Apparently, he’s not a fan. Just like his Momee…

Once this was finally dealt with, I went back into my room, feeling, “Well, Now I think I am ready to get to Loughborough…!!”. 

It had all been so fast, so exhausting, so overwhelming, that I immediately went into ShutDown Mode. It took a while and a Buddy to start getting me to even start talking again.

This had all started when I was barely getting to be Awake & before I had any coffee. My first coffee was at 12:55pm. After EVERYTHING, including my ShutDown, was done with. And… Well, You’ve seen the Isobars… 999mb.

I. Am. Just… Done. Completely & Utterly. Done. So, So, So Exhausted. So, So, So Very Drained. Mentally, Psychologically Done In.

But now… There is packing to be done. Things to sort out Properly to go away for a WEEK. Last time went away for a long time was back in March, for my birthday, in Caernarfon for 10 days. And we all know how well that went…

This is also NOT the Time Of Year for all this… This is the Anniversary of EVERYTHINGS This Time Of Year. Maybe different months and years, but between October & March is when EVERYTHINGS happened at some point in time. Like the Gods just Insist I Hate This Time Of Year!

  • October 31st 2013 — The Beginning of EVERYTHINGS
  • November 2013 — Having to Move House & Settle Down in Leyton
  • November 2013 — Suffered from Pneumonia – Had to still walk the dog and ended up having to go back to work… a 4 hour Round-Trip Away
  • December 2013 — Fibromyalgia is starting it’s campaign to take hold of my body for itself
  • March 2014 — Had to give up my Job at the Brompton Hospital from being desperately ill, just before my birthday
  • May 2014 — See Pain Clinic Consultant, he wants an MRI Scan 
  • June 2014 — MRI Scan
  • November 2014 — “Officially” Diagnosed with ASD
  • February 2015 — Finally got to see the Pain Clinic Consultant re MRI Scan of lower lumbar area (Nearly 9 months later!)
  • June 2015 — Finally get “Officially” diagnosed with Fibro, then… Nothing. No followup or help given.
  • November 2015 — Dumped by Boo; Dumped with my Parents back in North Wales, at Nain & Taid’s old house.
  • December 2017 — C*****g Bitch at Roslin breaks my brain & My Very Soul
  • December 2017 — The pain in my tummy and pelvis turns into the Ripping & Searing Pain of All Mortal Agony, ripping everything inside me to shreds & leaving me Screaming at the top of my lungs in White-Hot-Agony-of-all-Agonies
  • January 2018 — Emergency Admission to Hospital. YGC Diagnose not one, but TWO different Blood Poisoning inside me, as well as Multiple Other Infections, too (Mainly Urine & Bowel, others unidentifiable).
  • March 2018 — Finally Released from hospital – the day after my birthday. Had 37th Birthday in Hospital.
  • October 2018 — Pain Clinic finally comes through with Physio+Therapy Treatment option for me, with a date. But then, CHANGE the date – to January 2019!
  • January 2019 — Unable to cope anymore with this appt hanging over my head, just shortly after the Anniversary of that Bitch in Roslin – Had Nervous Breakdown in the end. Had desperately tried to get Mam to agree that I shouldn’t go… But it was too little too late when she finally did cancel it — AFTER I’d had said breakdown
  • October 2019 — Have been dissociative and derealising since January, and now it’s going Supernova because it’s That Time Of Year, Again…

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October 01, 2019 3:47 pm

Glan Dulyn | 11°C

I talked to Mam. A lot. When she really puts her “Momee Hat” on, she manages to completely disassemble things that completely baffle and “Bewilder” (her word; a very good word…) into perspective, in a way that is so proficient and clear, I am able to file it away or use it in my own… Analyses. 

This time… It was BPD – but ALSO… She answered the biggest head-fuck of my life: The BEWILDERMENT, TORMENT and UTTER & COMPLETE MIND-FUCK of just how I went from My Life In London to… Well, THIS

And it ALL started — NOT JUST THAT — with… ASD.

Or rather, the lack of willing support, understanding, help, kindness, patience, and Diagnosis of it. NO ONE KNEW. 

 

And from the beginning… Basically…

 

I Was Born To Die.

To Suffer… 

To Be Tormented…

To Fail.

I. Never. Stood. A. Single. Chance. In. Hell…

 

The lack of everything I ever needed for ASD was NOT THERE.

 

Instead, I became more and more terrified, confused, befuddled… AND TRAUMATISED > THAT TRAUMA CREATED BPD, in a child who became terrified of Abandonment, of the Emotions that Erupted because of it that SHE DIDN’T — COULDN’T!! — EVER UNDERSTAND, of the confusion that NEVER EVER MADE ANY SENSE… This list keeps going on, and on, and ON…

I. WAS. ALWAYS. DOOMED. TO. FAILIURE.

And everything spiralled from there.

No one was able to stop my Nightmare Crucible from happening when I was a child.

There was no one there to tell me to go to the Docs to seek help before Pneumonia started… or to stop me from doing what I did afterwards whilst I had it.

I had to leave Finsbury Park and the only person who could & would have done that… 

There was no one there to help me in Leyton when I got sicker & sicker… The NE London Foundation Trust was just as sick as I was

There was no one to help me stop the BPD from taking over, the sicker and sicker I got, or to keep EDI Online… Because NO ONE HAD A GODDAMNED CLUE ABOUT EITHER OF THEM…

And so… There we go. Here we are. Biggest Question Now: What to do with said information? Obviously, it’s a new Filter, for nearly pretty much Everything to be processed through.

Processing the Data will take time… That’s a lot of crunching, even for a Supercomputer(!). I’m not Quite Quantum… Yet…(!)

#resentment #uncomfortable #personalinsights #trauma #uncertainty #scared #confused #overwhelmed #sad #mam #disassociation #illness #selfawareness #cptsd #pain #aggitated #panic #terrified #anguish #miserable #helplessness #exhaustion #waitingfordoom #upset #crushingfeels #disturbed #mixedfeels #independence #asd #depression #ptsd #imprisonedfeels #mentalhealth #disability #stressed #anxiety #selfcare #memories #inspiring #despairing #alexithymia #aspie #hypervigilance #bpd #skittish #distressed #caredfor #paranoid #drained #fatigue #vibratingscared #grief #chaos

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The Shower Trauma

 | 14°C |

Eating Genius (GF) Blueberry muffin, pissed at the phones my poor best friend S currently has to put up with, wondering how long it’s going to take me to lose my rag with this UMIDIGI F1 that’s been somehow compromised… 

I had my shower. My body and mind feels better. It was difficult — I ended up in a rather bad sugar crash, and had to eat Toast, DF Cookies & Jacob’s Crackers. In the shower. It was Not Nice… 😖😞

When I got upstairs, I ended up fretting and being broken by the thought – the knowledge – that this didn’t have to have been like this for so goddamned long.

Afterwards, I also had to endure the inevitable subsequent Adrenaline push, making me quiver and shake as badly as the Sugar Low, Vexed & Anxiously Disgruntled by the time I got out and went upstairs.

Did you know that when I told Sophie that the Twat Fuckfaceheads that came to see me (Johanna & Donna – rat bastard C***s) had told me that if I decided I wanted to go on the list for a place of my own, that I could not have this place done up to be functional, she was astounded and told me it was UTTER BOLLOCKS…!! UTTER FUCKING BOLLOCKS!!

I hadn’t HAD to suffer! I hadn’t HAD to go through such Agony any Trauma as I had… and still had to.That this could all have been Avoided by someone who cared about taking pity on me and allowing me to have the shower room that I desperately needed so frikkin badly

I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH ANY OF THIS AT ALL!!!!!!!

And what could I have DONE with access like this to a shower that would have cut my pain in HALF??!! The Escalation could have been STOPPED. Such ongoing TRAUMA & AGONY & HATE AVOIDED?????

HAVE I NOT BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH????? DID I REALLY NEED TO GO THROUGH EVEN MORE?????

NO MERCY!!!

NONE… AT. ALL.

I cried. Just a little bit. But. I. Cried. I never, ever cry (unless it’s Meltdown-Related). I do not cry when I am sad. This, though… This so Disgusted Me, Moved Me, Disturbed Me… I didn’t know what else my body could possibly do, when it did this…

… Inside, I am just Traumatised All Over Again. I honestly have another wave of PTSD about all of this, on top of, and Separate, from the rest. It makes me feel… Terror. Horror. Makes me want to physically vomit. The Fear. The Horror. The Sickening Suffering… 

I am DevastatedWrecked. Frustrated. Horrified. Traumatised. Destroyed. I could not describe it any more, or any better. These things are not easy to process in any way, shape, or form. 

Does anyone else feel sick now, too…?? 

Nearly Two Years – Two Frikkin Goddamned Years – Has Been Lost. I was 36 when the Occocuses Started. And I’m 38 1/2 when the Shower is Fitted. 

#dignity #agony #cellphones #crushingfeels #techspecs #disability #overwhelmed #drowningfeels #alexithymia #devestated #drained #dragondisappointment #food #occutherpist #miserable #phonetech #scared #tech #asd #headache #anxiety #exhaustion #anguish #paraesthesia #ptsd #eating #accessiblebathroom #confused #aggitated #ora #stressed #fatigue #despairing #hair #fibromyalgia #shower #angry #grief #painsomnia #phones #distressed #nhsdirect #showerchair #helplessnessPowered by Journey Diary.


July 07, 2019 2:36 am

North Wales | 11°C

 

I’ve just seen the date at the top of this iPad a moment ago…

It’s 7/7 — the day things changed forever…

7th July 2015

14 Years Ago Today

And it will never “Just”… “Grow Old”… We were there. In the middle of it. SN was outside a few hundred yards away from That Freaking, Frikkin Bus… Maybe not half an hour after it blew itself up…

We watched it all as it unfurled itself on the news. Heard those Ambulances’ sirens dull on the TV as they raced further away from the scene… Only to get louder and louder outside my window on the way to the Trauma Centre in the Royal Free, Hampstead. It made it a chilling reality

The worst thing, however, was the fact that SN was inadvertently out there when the Tavistock Square Busexploded. The bomb had not long gone off, maybe only an hour or even half an hour. Entirely naïve of the situation, she had gone to meet her parents coming in to Euston from North Wales to see her graduation recital at Arts Ed.

If she had gone sooner, as she says, she decided to go take the mail upstairs to our apartment (Oakley Square, Mornington Crescent, Camden)  instead of leaving right away, she might have been there when the bomb exploded… Heard It… Saw It… Hopefully nowhere near the circumference of the shrapnel trajectory…

As she also pointed out, we would walk past there to get to town. If she hadn’t been having her Recital that day, who knows where we would have been. There’s a place close by we liked to have breakfast in, I’m certain. We could have been going there, done that… It all doesn’t bear to be thinking about… 😖😢😞

But SN was in Euston a little later, thank goodness… She says there was an air of something … wrong… there… But no clear indications — perhaps a fire down in the Tube line? That it wasn’t until I called her, she didn’t know anything had happened.

For me, it had been a very long nightmareto get hold of her. Phone networks were already being jammed (the cell phone networks in 2005 were still really in their infancy stage compared to now…), and I could not get hold of her. For ages… Minutes and Minutes… Which is forever when your best friend might be in serious danger…

I had known nothing was wrong until C (my sister) emailed me to ask how I was, if I was OK. I obviously told her I was fine and at home. And asked why she was asking. She told me to turn on the TV. Any. Channel

With that, my blood went cold and turned on the BBC… The first thing I saw was the fully exploded, destroyed and ripped out backend of the No. 30 Bus in… Tavistock SquareWhich was… Right. By. Euston. Station…. 😱😟😟😟😣😣😣😣😣😣🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯😖😖😖😖😖😖

So, I flipped and started ringing her frantically, until I finally got an answer. And I nearly wept outright with overwhelming internal relief.

She came home — walking bravely despite all the horrors going on…

Her parents had been Evacuated back home from Watford Junction Station anyhow, and all Central London was in a serious Lockdown.

From then on… Well… It just go worse and worse. We were glued to the TV to get as much information as possible about it all. It. Was . Fucking. Terrifying

SN got quite serious PTSD from it… After all, she was thereThat is one seriously Majorheadfuck…

She seems to know how to deal with it well… She has a really, really powerful internal Strength of Will, and bears such a burden with dignity and Strength, despite the Fear and heartbreaking anxiety anything that triggers or reminds her of it… She still carries it with great Power and Grace, in my eyes. 

Not many people understand this. Her parents were kinda there — after all, they themselves were evacuated from London on the train, not being able to get hold of SN and know if she was OK. Not sure if they ever did grasp the reality she was near enough to have been kinda involved in it, too, if she’d have gone any earlier, though….

So, every 7/7 we talk about it. Discuss it. Get our Trauma and Anxieties out to someone who can commiserate and empathise truly. We went through that together. We still go through it together.

The date brings things to the fore too easily, the memories still vivid despite pretty much an entire Decade-and-a-Half having come and gone hence…

It. Just. Hurts…

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OTT TMI Overload & In The Black Hole of Pending Meltdowns…

Costa | 23°C

In Costa again… Oh, Frikkin Gods.. What a Morning… 😩😖🤯😣😱☹️ ‼️

 

I have been through the ringer… Drained of everything and more that I have, and have ever had, inside… I’ve been pushed beyond what I am really capable of coping with, dealing with, managing…

S pointed out that, Regardless, I am still managing it, because I am not actually having a Meltdown.

That’s… fair. I’m not. But it’s WW3 inside me and it’s suffocating me… 😖😣 … crushing me…


It started with sleeping in. Until nearly 1pm…! 🤬😱🤯🥺

After the last few days, and some careful planning of the day, that was so entirely unacceptable!! 🥺😖😖😖 Dear Gods, we were supposed to be in the shopping centre by then!

It destroyed my insides… Wrecked them apart and tore them, like an IED went off inside… This is was the Dragon of Disappointment going bananas inside me, and burning everything that I had inside. I was done

Somehow, S soothed me enough to help me wrap some kind of shell around the devastation, and allow me to at least try and function. Slowly, I got dressed and even managed a little makeup (even if it wasn’t exactly… great).`


However, it was late when we got out. Around 2:30pm. It was so hard for me to process this. My reasoning was, in the main, that the extra sleep — for me, at least, — was utterly pointless, and a complete waste of time.

To my horror, I had inadvertently squandered precious time outside, to sticking to a good plan for a nice and relaxing day outside — and instead spent extra hours in bed sleeping.

I have Fibromyalgia, and the symptoms that are the basic foundation of Chronic Fatigue — there is no way in hell that any of my sleep was going to be helpful, restful, recuperating, or healing. So, any “lie in” was a complete and utter waste of time.


This bugs me so much… I try to work so hard to master this damned curse inflicted upon my mind and body… and yet, still, it manages to somehow get the better of me, when I am at my weakest, to wreck havoc with my mind.

The Dragon of Disappointment is mercilessFear and Cold Terror turns everything white and frozenPanic and Horror make everything explode like devastating fireworks in an oil rig — leaving nothing in its wake but ashes and embers and ruins

It all makes my Aspic/Autie brain hurt. It goes into hyperdrive, and then destroys itself completely, and then everything else along with it.

It turns it into a blabbering mess; a pile of burned ash, slushed into a soggy mess in the torrential downpour of the storms that harm it so greatly… Until there is nothing left, and I am naught but a shell of emptiness and a robot in Shutdown.

It might be marginally better, and less destructive… but only on the outside and to other peopleBut it is still a horrific and destructive and Traumatic thing to endure, nevertheless.

It leaves its mark. It leaves it deeply — because it is not flung out into the Nether, like things are in a Meltdown. The Meltdown blows its top, and violently expels everything that you find within it that has hurt and harmed it so much, it has done this.

A Shutdown, however, Implodes, scarring everything inside, blowing everything on the inside, causing the devastation there instead. Arguably, to me and my mental health, it is worse. And even worse than that… Nobody can see it


 

I’ve done nothing to deserve all of this.

I’ve bent over backwards, and all ways, to try and be good, try and contain myself under extremely stressful and frightening circumstances.

And yet… More just keeps coming. 😖😖😖

I think I am aware now that it will probably Never End… But this Warrior is tired… Needs a little R&R from this… war of ill-health — of a broken body, a broken mind, and a broken spirit…

 

#scared #helplessness #angry #blackburn #irritated #premierinn #miserable #imprisonedfeels #furious #overwhelmed #trauma #alexithymia #dragondisappointment #exasperation #despairing #anxiety #panic #drowningfeels #fatigue #asd #confused #resentment #aggitated #dismal #caredfor #frustration #stressed #sara #exhaustion #upset #fibromyalgia #agony

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