Things look darker

So, I had my visit from the Psychiatric Intervention team.  Two lovely ladies who asked me a hundred questions and gave me absolutely no answers.  I don't blame them, but I came to realise that there is a lot of to-ing and fro-ing when dealing with mental health problems.  I've now come to realise that no-one can ever be certain what will or won't work.  Something that may have a positive effect on one person, could have the exact opposite with another.

At the end of a two hour session, where my emotions swung from one extreme to the other, it was decided that they could not offer me what I needed.  So guess what?  Back to Health in Mind!  And a whole new referral process.

This time my GP sent the referral and I waited patiently to hear from them.  After the proscribed two weeks, at the urging of a friend, I phoned them to find out where I stood.  It was explained that there had been a delay, but someone would get on to it as soon as they could.  This only served to reinforce my opinion that I wasn't really worth the bother.  

But other symptoms were now emerging.  Symptoms that really distressed me.  The initial one was shaking.  It is difficult to explain it to anyone who has never experienced it, but I will do my best.  It's more like trembling than shaking, but only down the right side of my body.  The feeling is almost as if something is quivering just under my skin.  But when I put my hand out, the shaking was actually visible.  The trembling comes and goes without any warning and I still have not been able to figure out how to stop it.

The next symptom to appear was what I have been told is called Hyper Arousal.  Not as sexual as it sounds.  What it means is that all of my senses are on constant alert.  An example of how this manifests is probably the most common way it is triggered in me.  I could be walking along quite calmly, round a corner and see someone in front of me.  I react as though the person has crept up on me and pounced on me.  Another common trigger is when someone touches me unexpectedly.  I ask you to try and imagine what it is like just trying to carry out a simple task like shopping, for me, an horrific experience of constant fright.

Than came the night terrors.  Not nightmares - night terrors.  The ones where you wake up in a total panic and the fear and trepidation carries through to the real world.  Generally I am being chased.  I can never see what is chasing me and it is always just behind me.  I know that if I turn to see what is behind me, I am finished.  It will have me.  This world is populated by people from my past and my present, in locations that I recognise, but aren't quite the same.  No-one is willing to help me - I am totally isolated.  The terror is just indescribably.

Of course, the night terrors then set off the next symptom.  Not consciously, but sub-consciously, I try to stay awake.  I realise I am doing it, but nothing I do seems to stop it.  Why would anyone want to go to sleep when they know what is waiting for them in that other world?  So the fatigue just slowly builds up until the darkness of sleep takes hold and the terror begins.  The longest I have managed to stay awake so far is 6 days and maybe that is what has contributed to the next symptom.

Flashbacks.  I am that little girl again, defenseless and frightened.  But in these flashbacks, I carry the knowledge of the adult me.  I am there, being sexually molested by Alex.  I can feel it, I can taste it, somehow I can even see it.  The fear is real.  The pain is real.  The smells are real.  I know I can stop him, but somehow, although I know how, I can't.  It is as though the adult me is trapped inside the little me, experiencing it all, but powerless to do anything about it.

So back to the GP I went.  Only to be diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  This is the point at which my anger at Alex truly began to emerge.  I was doing everything that I could do, getting help, talking about it, trying to deal with it, but still it wasn't enough!  And he was sitting, with his family around him, as supportive as ever, living the life of Riley!  How fair is that?  How could I turn the tables?  Did I have the strength to deal with this all?