Therapy this afternoon started off so well – my mood was ok, I was present, and I didn’t feel like a total failure at life. However, by the end of my session, I was starting to get a headache. I am fortunate in that I rarely get headaches. By the time I went to Target, picked up my daughter, and got home, I was in tears because my head hurt so bad. I quickly set my daughter up on the iPad, let the dog out, and went upstairs to find medicine to make my head quit hurting.
I was a bit panicked because I couldn’t find medication at first (we tend to hide it in our house so I don’t have easy access to it when I’m suicidal). Well, this panicked state sent me into a bit of a tailspin of anger and pain, and probably a bit of dissociation. When I finally found a bottle of ibuprofen, I dumped four pills into my hand and swallowed them. That’s only 800mg and that’s pretty much a standard dose for me because if I’m taking medication, it’s bad enough for me to need a hefty dose.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t medicating mindfully.
Before I knew it, I had 6 more pills in my hand ready to be swallowed. The only thing racing through my brain was that my daughter deserved a mom who isn’t fucked up from PTSD and craziness all the time. My daughter deserved a mom who wasn’t this crazy.
Then, I heard my dog barking outside.
That’s it. That was enough to remind me of all of the reasons why I am a good enough mommy for my daughter. I put the pills back in the bottle. I put the cap back on. I tossed it under the sink blindly. I went downstairs and made dinner.
I’ve spent the last 45 minutes debating on whether or not I should post this because I don’t want sympathy and I don’t want judgement. I want people to know that these are the dangers that come with PTSD. This is part of what I live with because I have mental health issues and for some fucked up reason, there’s this part of my brain that struggles with accepting that I am good enough, that I deserve to live, that I deserve to be a mommy.
I would never want to do anything to cause my daughter immense pain. I want to be the very best mommy that I can. In order to do that, I need to be mindful and take care of myself first. I need to keep going to therapy and working on trauma stuff, even when I have weeks where I want to quit. To be the type of mommy that my daughter deserves, I need to accept that this is where things are right now; however, they have improved a great deal in a year of trauma work, and they will continue to improve over the next year.
Tonight, I am trying to find patience; patience with myself and patience with this process of trauma work. It will definitely be a yoga nidra and essential oils kind of night. Here’s to hoping for no more flashbacks in the next 24 hours. My mind and body need a break for a little while.