So, I freaked out yesterday.
It's been a long time since I posted in this group, but I had to talk about what's going on in my life with people who might understand.
For fifteen years (perhaps longer but undiagnosed) I've struggled with Post traumatic stress disorder. There comes a time, usually every half a year to year, that, inevitably, like the changing of the seasons, this gnome has a breakdown of some sort. Yesterday's scared me more than a little.
I woke up feeling groggy, so groaned and grumbled my way to the coffee pot to wake myself up for work in a few hours. My parents and my sister were at the kitchen table, watching movies. On the outside, everything seemed okay, just a normal family - with two children near age thirty still living with mom and dad - sitting around a table.
My mind started racing, going in circles, revolving around everything that was wrong with my life. I can't stand my job, working for a rich jerk and making eight dollars an hour, a job without breaks or benefits. But I tolerate it, because I figure everyone hates their job. It's something we do because we have to.
My girlfriend had been totally closed off to me for a couple of months, becoming increasingly cold and angry as I struggled with severe depression and panic attacks. I felt unappreciated, misunderstood, exhausted, overworked.
To top it all off, even knowing I needed help, I couldn't afford therapy and don't have a regular physician. But I figured, millions have it much worse than I do, I can keep going...
Yesterday I snapped. I drove to work, sat in the parking lot staring at the hotel (I'm a front desk clerk) for about half an hour, debating whether I wanted to go in for another miserable day or just throw in the towel. I texted my girlfriend telling her what was going on and she told me I was acting irresponsibly, selfishly.
At this point, something in me was triggered. I left work and went to find my parents, not really wanting to ruin their nice day on the golf course, but with the vague idea that I had to talk to someone. I got there, found them, and told them that maybe I needed to be put in my own rubber room somewhere, that I couldn't handle the stress of my life... the anger, sadness, and even hatred I still feel from years of childhood abuse at the hands of a neighbor.
My Father tried to reassure me, to tell me about the good things I had in my life, how good I was at my job, how much people liked me... but it was like I couldn't really take it in. Rational words effected me not at all - until I got angry. I don't even know why I got angry. I just grabbed my cell phone, smashed it into a million pieces on the golf course parking lot, jumped in my car and took off. I had to get away. From what, I don't know. I just kept driving, for hours.
Eventually I started thinking about the people who loved me, and how worried they would be, and what a jerk I was for taking off like that, without even calling in to work. But there was a stubborn, angry part of me that didn't want any help, that was tired of wanting to feel better, of praying for a solution, or at least for an easier life. I considered maybe going into the woods and living like a hermit - then realized I had no clue how to do that and survive.
Eventually I got lost somewhere up here in Northern Maine. I went through towns without a soul in sight, saw broken down buildings, an abandoned fire station, a town that's name I couldn't pronounce (and I usually can), yet very few signs of real civilization. I abruptly realized that I was broke, just about out of gas, and acting like a lunatic.
To make this much longer, frustrating story shorter (I ramble enough as it is) I managed to find my way back home by the kindness of two strangers, and an eight dollar loan from an old friend.
I got home, called my girlfriend to say I was okay, to perhaps apologize... and she immediately launched into a tirade of what a jerk I was, how could I do that to her, how rotten of me it was to not even call in to work. While a part of me agreed with these things, it was when she called me an (expletive) insane freak, that I told her it was time to break up - she agreed, and we hung up.
I woke up this morning wondering what to do now... I really should call my workplace and explain that I had a relapse, that I was sick, that I'm an insane freak, but that might just make them more likely to fire me. I could lie... but I'm tired of pretending things are okay when they're not.
I'm not really sure what to do at this point. I feel like a total idiot, and wonder if maybe I really am a little crazy. Yesterday I felt almost possessed, taking off like that, filled with anger and resentment. Now... I worry that maybe my self control is slipping. Or maybe yesterday is evidence that it has slipped already.
Any thoughts? Should I check myself into a rubber room in a good facility before I end up preaching on the streets naked? Or should I take my father's advice and start going to regular therapy? I feel like I'm trying to juggle a million things at once. I don't know how I'm going to go into work today, even if I do still have a job...
Advice, condemnations, anything would be welcome at this point. Thanks for reading.
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Very sorry about your suffering. Your girl 'friend' doesn't sound like much of a friend to me, but your Dad sounds great. :shrug;
