Note: As with the previous post, this went out to my social media early October and is simply here for posterity and in the interest of having everything in one place =)
I’m not really sure where to begin, it’s been a long time since I last talked and a lot has happened, and nothing has happened at the same time.
As with my last post, some disclaimers and clarifications:
This is not a cry for help. I’m seeing a psychologist. This is not a cry for attention. It’s not aimed at making you feel sorry or sympathetic towards me. I’m not assigning blame – if you were involved in any of the events I mention, I’ve already forgiven and moved on – I’m just focused on making things manageable and liveable.
This is a statement of fact. This is me, making people aware that sometimes, I need a little help. More than that, I hope this will help anyone who reads it feel less alone, or give them a little added courage to speak up and help themselves.
I can’t promise this will be easy to read. It certainly wasn’t easy to write. But the words have been stuck inside me again, trying to get out, for so long now. I need to get this out.
A few weeks after my last post, after a session with my psychologist I was told I strongly present with symptoms of both Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Agoraphobia. The latter I kinda expected – and I don’t think anyone that knows me will argue overly about it. The former, however, kinda threw me for a loop. PTSD was for soldiers and military personnel, people risking their lives day in, day out, not for middle aged men who’d been bullied at school.
That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. But I started reading up on both conditions, started seeing definite similarities in what was reported and what I’d been experiencing, and slowly, I came to sortof accept it.
I had another mental break during August\September, when I started considering the question of whether I was ready to go back to Uni this year. I thought I was, until the question was asked… And then I started to think about the various ways that I’d changed since my last attempt. I’ve lost whatever part of me that held the genius you’re all so accustomed to me having. I can’t look at something and instantly know what’s wrong, how to fix it and figure out a dozen ways to improve it. I can’t glance at a spreadsheet of numbers and spot the odd ones out. I can’t take two pieces of disparate information and figure out what links them. Worst of all, I can’t retain new information. I can’t learn. My one passion, the thing that gave me most joy in life, is gone to me. I hope it’ll come back, but I don’t know right now.
But if you never try, you’ll always fail, right? That was my thinking anyway, and back to Uni I went. Most of you can probably guess that didn’t exactly go to plan, but I thought having structure, deadlines, etc would help focus my mind and kinda force it back into more familiar working patterns. I wasn’t expecting everything to be back to normal, but I wanted to capture a bit of that normalcy.
I failed. I’ve found I can’t move smoothly from one point to another, linking them and doing whatever else to make that transition (One reason this post is far more rambley then my last one), I look at code that I’ve been living and breathing for decades and it’s double dutch to me. None of the papers I’ve read or tried to read stick in my head. It’s all so *frustrating* and it gets more so every time I try and fail.
And then we come to this week. Fuck this week. Although, I guess my issue began last week, so fuck that week too. It started simply, a sleepless night. Then the next. It wasn’t till I woke up in the middle of the night I realised I’d been having a recurring dream – a nightmare – for the past few days. I won’t go into details, suffice to say I was having it and it seriously fucked me up, both mentally and emotionally.
And finally, to add the shitty cherry atop this shitcake of a week, my partner of the past 9 months, the girl I love dearly and my grounding point for all those months, realised that her own mental health situation was not conducive to being the partner she wanted to be, and we’ve agreed to take a step back for a bit. It’s a better outcome than I expected, and while not a loss, I still feel the void left. It’s super recent though, so I have a feeling that my feelings haven’t really solidified around this…
*sigh* Anyway… right now I’m basically an emotional and mental husk, the lack of sleep pretty much draining any energy I’d have, and the various events sapping my will and desire to do anything anyway. It’s been a long week. I’ve cried, I’ve self-harmed, I’ve lain helplessly in bed… But apparently, I’m a stubborn bastard, so I’m still here. And I will be, till there ain’t no here to be no more.
Thank y’all for list-er, reading my ramble. This has, once again, been a Trunks Talks.