Well, I was just in the hospital last week and it brought a lot of things up. Firstly, the door to my room was behind my bed so I couldn't see when people were coming, I jumped out of bed startled so many times because of the slightest sound entering my room. Plus I was in isolation and everyone had to wear masks around me until a test result came back and that caused me so many panic attacks because some of my history involves being hurt without being able to see the perps face, so I was constantly on edge.
I was so sick, in fact still am, and therefore was completely helpless, couldn't even get to the restroom alone, I had absolutely no control over any part of my life for a week, and from birth until I was 16 I had no control over my life because of abuse and things, snother big trigger. And my personal favorite, the room I was in had a large restraint belt hanging on the wall, why they didn't keep it in the supply room God only knows, but seeing it and knowing what it is used for scared me to death.
Pain was excruciating and the docs kept the pain meds at such a low dose they did absolutely nothing for me, so I was in tears from pain much of the time, and pain is a huge trigger for me, especially extreme pain like I was going through, and am going through, but at least now that I'm home my regular doctor has raised the dose so I am not crying from pain all the time.
There was one kind of positive thing however, I slept a lot, it was good I got some slep but the reason for it is less than positive I suppose. I slept so much because the fear and lack of control transported me back in time, virtually, and my brain just kept shutting itself down so I didn't have to face things. At first my DID kicked into high gear, but I guess it got to much for my alters as well, so I slept, an uneasy sleep with many bad dreams.
I am on Oxygen round the clock and have to use a machine called a 'nebulizer' which vaporizes breathing medication so I can breath it into my lungs. It helps to some extent, but wearing the mask over my face for it is not a good thing. I've used nebulizers off and on all my life, but because of some new memories that came up in the hospital they are really getting to me now, and I mean really getting to me.
And the most depressing thing is very few people called to check on me, or asked my mother about me, even my brothers and sister-in-laws neglected contacting me or my mother about my condition, and honestly, that hurts and has brought up the old self depricating thoughts that I am no good and deserve what happened to me and deserve to be used and not cared for. I just don't understand why all this has to be so hard, I hate it with a passion, almost as much as I hate myself sometimes.
I missed tweo weeks worth of classes and a test, so I hope I can gwet going and make up what I missed soon, luckikly this weejk is Spring Break so I have some time to try to recupirate a little bit. Fear is just overtaking me because of this, I'm still terribly sick and the hospital has set me so far back emotionally and in my healing, right back to the beginning where I can't seem to cope. I am losing it and don't understand why getting help to remain alive seems so dangerous and makes you wish to die at times.
Sorry, I'm just confused and lost and needed to vent, any comments would be welcome, anty ideas on how to move forward would be appreciated, and any thoughts on regaining the lost ground would be welcome, and are sought.
Well, I successfully rambled awhile, thank you to anyone who took the time to read this, and a big thank you in advance to anyone who replies.
I hope we can all find peace,
THe spirit is a fragile thing, easy to break, but not impossible to fix.