another year later…

Another year gone by today…

I stopped celebrating birthdays years ago. My ex-wife liked to heap particularly nasty abuse on me on that day in particular.

This year is worse than usual. I am now homeless, broke and getting broker, sick and getting sicker and feeling completely alone in the town where I grew up.

The particularly ironic part is I just received a medal from our Senate for my contributions to the culture of our country and my efforts to advocate for better mental health care. If my efforts were so valued, why am I waiting for an intake interview?

It’s been clear to the three therapists I’ve seen that I am suffering from trauma-related illness, and that it has destroyed my life. Yet, if I say anything but I’m about to kill myself, no one in this province does anything either.

I feel a real mix of emotions regarding my country. Mostly empty kudos and awards just don’t seem to be worth anything when the same country that awards them ignores the basic NEEDS of its citizens…

Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate the efforts of the senator who put my name forward, I appreciate the support of all those who came to my shows, bought my CDs. When you dedicate your life to something and, in your twilight years, almost all of the people you worked with or for, your family and friends, turn their backs on you, it destroys what little self-esteem you’ve managed to hang on to.

Really leaves one wondering if there is any place in the world for one…

So I sit here, on a cot in a storage room. Most of my belongings are in a storage unit outside of town. I spend my days trying to find a place to live that I can afford now that the dr.’s have ‘retired’ me. With the right diagnoses and treatment I probably could work for another decade…but they’d rather replace me with a Millenial and let me live the rest of my life in abject poverty. O Canada, indeed…

…why?…

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.

…I’m sinking…

It’s been weeks since I’ve had any relief now. Every day is worse than the one before. I’ve seen two psychiatrists; both ignored everything I said and diagnosed me from preconceptions.

I am certain that the few friends I had left just can’t stand it anymore. My family abandoned me long ago. I was trying to last until spring, to see my son marry. I won’t make it.

When you wake every day feeling more worthless than the day before, when every effort you make fails or, worse yet, is derailed by the professionals who are being paid from the public coffers to misdiagnose, over-medicate, etc., it is impossible to break the cycle.

The anxiety levels are so high and unrelenting I am having regular attacks that I believe are psychogenic seizures, but neither my GP nor the psychiatrists will even discuss them. Likewise, they refuse to consider the repeated cycles of emotional abuse I have been subjected to. I am simply being ignored.

I have been through the ER three times. In each case my situation was downplayed, I was left in a locked room for 9 to 14 hours and I was sent home with no diagnosis, no referral and no follow-up.

Tonight, yesterday and for several days previous, I have been unable to leave my flat. I can’t cook or eat. My sleep is either non-existent or I sleep all day to avoid the emotional pain. Unfortunately I nearly always wake from a horrible dream, a replay of one of my ex-wife’s more denigrating verbal/emotional attacks.

I have begun to ideate suicide again. I have the whole plan mapped. I fear some night the pull will be too great and I will follow through. The more distant my former friends and family become, the more the risk of me taking the final step. The feelings of those left behind make less difference every day. I just want this to end…

If any of you have had stress induced seizures, please comment and tell me about it. If I thought there was some hope of recovering I might be able to submerge my urges. Otherwise it is probably just a matter of time…