Today I have a phone appointment with my psychiatrist. Over the past few days, I have contemplated what to say. The obvious is that depression has cloaked itself around me. It’s a struggle to function outside of work. I often escape reality by closing my eyes as I sleep away the day. And then comes the shame of wasting my time. The shame of not being strong. The shame of feeling dead while my body continues to function. The shame of having so much to be thankful for; yet, feeling like none of it matters.
And then we have the medication paradox. When we lower my medication, I feel so incredibly raw. My emotions stifle my lungs and it’s hard to breathe. With medication, I feel so incredibly numb that nothing seems to matter. Is there a middle ground? Is there a way to live without feeling so disconnected from life? Or is this just how I will continue to function as an individual with PTSD? Barely living. Barely breathing.
“Emotional pain is not something that should be hidden away and never spoken about. There is truth in your pain, there is growth in your pain, but only if it’s first brought out into the open.” —Steve Aitchison
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