Child Abuse, Dreams

Horrible Dream

I had a horrible dream this morning.  I was dreaming that I had had a baby.  It was the most independent and easy going baby.  She basically came out of the womb self sufficient.  I was a horrible mother.  I neglected the baby.  I didn’t want anything to do with her.

Not too hard to see where this comes from.

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PTSD, Sleep

No Rest For the Weary

Sleep is not coming tonight.  I slept for about 45 minutes and woke up out of a nightmare.  I have extra Trazodone I could use.  But honestly, I don’t really want to sleep.  It brings nothing but pain lately.

Add muscle spasms from hell into the mix.  Can we say fun?

I’m sitting here in the living room and the tears just keep rolling down my face.  This is the first time in a long time that I’ve cried.  Really cried.

I’ve been up for a good two hours.  I think I’ll go downstairs and try to sleep on the couch.  Beds are triggering me like they used to.  I’ll probably bring it up with my psychiatrist when I see her in a week and a half.  I’m sure she’ll basically say therapy (which I’m working on).

I’m half tempted to call mobile crisis because I’m having serious SI urges.  I don’t know if talking to someone will make any difference though.

Okay.  Signing off for the night morning.

Medication, Mental Health, Pain, PTSD, Sleep

Itty Bitty Baby Steps

After working on it for like a month, I’ve finally called a psychologist.  I tried doing the Psychology Today route.  Too confusing since my insurance is administered by X company, but because it’s Medicaid, people who take X don’t necessarily take my form of X.  Today I worked up the courage to call X company directly and get some names.  I took those names and Googled.  Luckily one of the people specializes in trauma.  I left a message on voice mail.  Thankfully, she’s out of the office until Monday and I can quit stressing over it until then.

Earlier, I saw useless GP.  Remarkably, he wasn’t all that useless today.  I guess it helps if you go in focused and only asking for one med change.  A few weeks ago, I started Couch to 5K.  I messed up my previously messed up ankle.  So after resting for almost a week didn’t do anything I made the appointment.  Now, all of this could have been taken care of last week, but drunk family member fell down in her driveway and I had to take her to the ER and wait around while they scanned her head.  I barely know this person, but nobody else who could do it was around.  I swear, I think I’m going to start using the phrase “Not my monkey.  Not my circus.” around my family.

So I see GP.  He orders an x-ray basically to cover his butt should the 6 weeks of PT he prescribed not work and he wants an MRI.  I guess having a GP who also does sports medicine is handy.  He says I can continue walking, but no more than a half mile or so and no C25K period.

He also gave me a referral to a different rheumatologist to evaluate for seronegative arthritis.  Despite lab results and symptoms and joint pain responding to steroids, current rheumatologist doesn’t think there’s anything else going on aside from fibromyalgia.

Oh, and I get to increase the Vitamin D I’ve been taking because I’m still deficient despite taking a standard 2000 IU a day.

Only other thing is I had a sleep study done.  I wish they’d hurry up and send the results.  I had a split study, where they monitored the first part and then put me on a CPAP machine the second part.  I’m guessing the fact they did the CPAP means I had a significant number of apnea events.

Psychiatrist is being a bit pushy, but I don’t expect less.  She’s ready to call up Company X and go off on them because they want to do her job.  She’s the one pushing therapy.  I think things have lifted a bit because as I said above, I’ve been able to deal with looking into it.  She also wants me to go back to the NAMI group I used to attend.  But I haven’t been there for like 10 years.  There’s a meeting tomorrow night.  But I don’t know.  I guess I’m minimizing things again.  I get all “But it isn’t that bad” all the time, despite evidence to the contrary.

And no, dear psychiatrist, my mother’s voice isn’t going away.  It’s been in my head my entire life.  And no, I’m not psychotic.  I think we’ll have to agree to disagree.