What is a life? Is it a thing that exists outside of us or is it a part of us, just waiting to be tapped?

My life has been a series of a few perfect moments, joined together by pain, indecision, fatigue and disappointment. Perhaps most lives are like that…

Now, I am simply tired. No one calls, no one needs me. There is no joy in this miserable existence. Again, I look forward to the oblivion of death.

…don’t know what to say….

Tonight I can barely type…I’m having a panic attack that’s so bad, I can hardly find the words to describe it. My hands shake, my whole body tenses…I tremble like a leaf.

It’s difficult to describe these feelings to those that haven’t experienced them firsthand. At times, I wish I could record my actions, just to illustrate how debilitating this disorder can be.

At best, it carries all of the symptoms of depression and anxiety. It also mimics PTSD, although it has a very different root (the link above will explain). The World Health Organization defines it here.

Unfortunately, for those of us who suffer from this disorder in North America, our psychiatrists won’t recognize this disorder. Therefore, it is almost impossible to find treatment.

You can see just how frighteningly debilitating this is at bit.ly/2uY9bXC.

…another weekend…

Not in this world this weekend. Let me explain.

When anxiety levels get high, some of us dissociate. That’s me, all over. The longer I have multiple serious stressors in my life, the more frequent and severe the dissociation becomes. It isn’t getting any better.

Yesterday I had my intake appointment at the ‘last chance’ free therapy clinic. The director was very nice, welcoming and not at all intimidating. All very nice, but they are staffed social work interns, not psychology students. There’s no CBT, no DBT, no EMDR, none of the psychotherapeutic tools used to treat C-PTSD.

I came out of the intake meeting resolving to try, but despondent about never being told about this free clinic after ten years of searching for resources and that this well-meaning but ultimately, I suspect, ineffectual group. Blindly ran the errands that were necessary (don’t like to be out of my flat). Since then been managing to takes my meds and my insulin but all as if someone else were doing it and I was watching.

Not being able to talk to anyone makes it ten times worse…


…the hard way…

Also the name of a great Steve Earle & the Dukes record, I’m referring to the way life can throw curve after curve at you, unrelentingly, for years on end. I sometimes wonder how myself and people in similar situations (and I’m well aware there are many) manage to keep plodding on…

I don’t celebrate or, for that matter, observe my own birthday. I usually turn my phone off, stay away from social media and carry on. I have always found birthdays depressing; that feeling has only gotten worse over the years.

Today (it’s Feb 16 right now) is the 30th birthday of my son, my only child. One of my ex-wife’s daughters’ birthdays is in three days. Both are, predictably, causing me grief (most things do, I can see the dark side of most/all things). Anything that marks the passage of time reminds me of my situation and the pointlessness of trying to better it in today’s Canada.

I am, prematurely, in my twilight years. Between two or three physical ailments, of varying degrees of seriousness, diabetes, Protracted Withdrawal Syndrome from having been over-medicated on benzodiazepines and worsening symptoms of C-PTSD after years of being on the receiving end of an abusive relationship I have barely enough energy to fight for the pittance that the government will condescend to give me after years of service to the community and paying my taxes like everyone else.

Nothing comes easy to me. I am not afraid of hard work but why does everything have to be as hard as possible? Why does one have to make measured, calculated decisions, arrived at with the help of knowledgeable and intelligent friends, only to find a brick wall every time one tries to move forward?

Anyone who read my earlier post, “this week, the final straw…” will understand the circumstances of my hopelessness. My concern is that the feeling is deepening and I have nowhere to turn…

The title of this post describes how many human beings, North Americans in particular, have to get medical care. Those that do, these days, are the lucky ones. Many regional administrations in my country and, I suspect, the US as well have abrogated their responsibilities where the citizenry’s mental health and well-being is concerned.

If you have been diagnosed with a personality disorder (Borderline Personality Disorder ) in particular, you have probably been told directly or indirectly that it cannot be treated. In the first place, while difficult to treat, BPD can be treated, as can C-PTSD which is often mistaken for BPD. The refusal of the North American medical establishment to accept what psychologists the world over have identified and treated for 25+ years is unacceptable, cruel and criminally negligent.

Sorry for the rambling…consider it another symptom of C-PTSD, along with psychogenic seizures, tremor, hypervigilance, etc. There are many others, but you can read all about it in the link above…L8R