Rachel's Story - how it began...

I can’t remember when this all started for me.  It’s not like this illness just snuck up on me.  In hindsight, I can see that it was building over the course of my life. Certain parts are a bit fuzzy in my mind (thanks, in part, to the illness, I think).  But I am going to try to share it, with the hope that others might identify with parts and feel less alone.

 As far back as I can remember, I have happy memories but also depressed ones.  From when I was a kid, I have memories of overwhelming sadness & loneliness without a particular reason.  I felt isolated from other kids at school.  I never really had any trouble making friends; I was popular among the other kids.  But still, school was actually a very lonely place for me when I was young, partly because it only served to reinforce the fact that my sadness was holding me back from being a happy, playful, carefree kid like the others (this is very similar to how I feel about being around large groups of people now).  These moments of intense sadness were balanced, though, with intensely happy times with a close, loving family.  I am so lucky for that.

 It wasn’t until I was a teenager that the depression became more painful, persistent and intense.  The first time I seriously wanted to kill myself was when I was about 16, I think.  And again, the reason I kept going everyday and did my best to hide what was really going on was because I loved my family more than anything.  In this way, I never slipped too far down or away with my depression, because my family was always around, doing things together that I still managed to enjoy.  In my late teens I confided in my brother.  I told him how much I was hurting inside and how lonely I felt, despite being surrounded by loving people.  I’ve always considered him to be my very best friend and confidante.  I realize that I am lucky to have him and that not everyone has someone they can trust like this.  Depression is a terrifying thing to admit.  I felt so deficient compared to everyone else around me; like I was such a loser because, somehow, I just couldn’t cope with things that seemed to come so easily to others.  I was embarrassed that I cried myself to sleep every night, overwhelmed by school, friends, expectations and LIFE.  I was having trouble doing basic things like getting out of bed in the morning and eating.  I was dragging myself through my life, trying my best in every moment to contain my SECRET.  Of course, looking back, I wish now that I’d somehow found the courage to ask for help, to tell my parents.  I didn’t know it then, of course, but things were about to get much worse.

 

FirefightersStory-Stigma/Feelings/Challenges

This writing should be a good education for all, I HOPE! I'm hoping that those who read this, whether you are like me, 1 in 5 and who suffer from a mental health illness, or have a family member that does, and are struggling with the many stigmas, feelings, fears such as I have, will just maybe have a better insight by what I am about to write here today. This is real, this is what I am feeling right now, and I am gripped in a terrifying fear of so many thoughts and emotions. I hope that for those of you who are sufferinng and struggling right now, you will see that YOU ARE NOT ALONE, and I HOPE you will somehow find a way to take a little bit of comfort in that. For those of you who know of or have a family member who is suffering, read on ,please,as this might, help you to understand just exactly what we who ARE the 1 in 5 fear, struggle with. It might also help you gain a little insight into the strange and scary ways that our minds sometimes grip us with fear, panic, confusion, and so many emotions that take over and run wild and rampant.
My heart is racing, and I'm running a million miles an hour inside as I write. I am terrified for what lies ahead for me in the days and weeks to follow. I am going to be doing something tomorrow that I BELIEVE IN, and I am not wavering in my solid convictions with regards to trying to help others, getting the messages out to the public that mental health illness is serious, and very real. People need to be educated, and we MUST talk openly and honestly instead of denying, or looking the other way in the hopes that if we do, the many all encompassing issues surrounding mental illness will disappear, or go away. Many do not realize the severity of the challenges that we face, and many others do not even realize just how close these issues might be to either themselves, or a loved one. They might be staring these issues right in the face and not even realize it, or understand it.
I do know though, that the challenge that is facing me, the fears and emotions are very real , raw,and terrifying. This is my reality, as is others who are like me, the other 1 in 5's.
When I was nearing the end of my treatment and therapy to help overcome the issues and challenges I had fought with for so long with PTSD, I realized that I had another "calling" in life. I had been given a gift, a new life and beginning, and a chance to turn the nightmare I had been living with for so long into a opportunity to help others. Nothing was going to stop or prevent me from doing so. I had been blessed with the opportunity to help others everytime I went to work and went out on a fire call. Now I was going to be able to help others such as myself, I hoped, by taking my experiences with suffering from a acute mental illness such as I had, and using the experiences and knowledge I had gained to help others.
So I started searching and waiting for an opportunity to allow me to accomplish this. Enter Mr Alfredsson. Here was my chance, because if he said it was okay to talk and not be ashamed, then I would have someone in my corner, so to speak, by my side.
I have been afforded the opportunity to help others with my writings, and chatting on this blog. Although people do know that I am a firefighter, and they do know my name, nobody but a select few know the person, the face that is behind these efforts of mine. I am anonymous, and have been for quite sometime. That's the way I like it, as I prefer to stay in the background, under the radar so to speak, because I am not looking for any recognition, I just have a desire to help others, and I am hoping that I have been able to do this "very quietly" "anonymously" because it's not about what I am, it's about the person that I am, and what I am trying to do for others.
I have shared my many struggles I and my loving family have faced, (there's lots more to share with everyonestill) but I have also been able to share my many triumphs, in the hopes of instilling these "feelings" of HOPE that I have, to others, as well as my sincerest and humble hope of helping and reassuring them also. I had NO HOPE before, but I do now, and I want others to know that there is HOPE for them also.
I had the honor of being asked to sit down yesterday with a lovely and caring lady by the name of Paula at the Ottawa Citizen and do an interview with her to try and explain a bit about my story, my mental illness and its challenges,and my desire to help others by coming forward, sharing with them through my writing, and how this has all come to fruition through the efforts of the many caring people at the Royal Ottawa Foundation, Mr Alfredsson, and numerous others too long to mention who are working tirelessly behind the scenes anonymously as I have been , because they too believe, and have been touched in one way or another by mental illness.
Along with the interview, I was asked if they could take pictures of me, and of course I readily accepted, though being very very shy it was hard for me. As I said, I prefer to "fly under the radar". This will be in mondays Ottawa Citizen, and I'm hoping I did okay, but am very nervous as obviously it was difficult, emotional, and I've obviously never talked this publically before. But, the message has to get out in order to help others.
As I was preparing to leave for the interview, and from there directly to work at the fire station for a night shift, my family asked me why I was, as I call it "wound for sound". You could peel me off the ceiling so to speak. I was anxious, scared, terrified, tearful, all rolled into one big storm of wild emotions. So I tried to explain to my wife and three girls just exactly what was going on in my little brain. What follows is how I tried to explain it to them, and my reasons why. Hope you understand, as it is somewhat shorter and paraphrased for length.
People need to know that mental illness is real, and if affects real people. So, my feelings and thoughts were that people needed to "see" a real person, me, Larry, and be able to put a face to the story of my mental illness that I write about, and hopefully this would help to make it clearer to all that we ARE real people, us 1 in 5, in need of real proper professional help. This way it might help everyone to understand better and to realize just how real this all is.
Now, I must wait and see what troubles will await me at work, but I am not optimistic at all I'm sorry to say. I have a feeling, and it is NOT good,as there's only one other firefighter that knows what I have been trying to do "anonymously, quietly behind the scenes and below the radar" in order to help others. I didn't want anyone to know because I am truly very scared with regards to the many unfortunate stigmas that people have, and I in my own way, deliberately decided that I would "avoid", which is very common with having PTSD , as we practice avoidance extremely well in order to not have to deal with it. Sometimes, old habits die hard though, and I make no apology's to anyone for this. This is still who I am. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do in order to survive for just a little while longer, in the hopes it will all go away.And yes I do know that it will never go away, without her(psychologists) help. My angel as I and my family refer to her.
So, I don't know what will become of me, nor what challenges I will have to fight now, though I have a very good idea, and can imagine. I have said to my family, and my psychologist, as she knows everything I do, she's my security blanket and helps to keep me going, that I do indeed have a calling, and they support me in this calling, because, "Sometimes when you hear the call, you have to answer that call, no matter what the consequences!"
This is also why she knows(my psychologist), that I will be sitting on my "park bench" that has my name on it, as did my hero General Romeo Dallaire, who had his own "park bench" with his name on it, who was the pioneer spokesperson and example for me with regards to PTSD and my mental illness, whom unfortunately knew what the right thing to do for his soldiers was, though by battling on for what he believed in, unfortunately relapsed, and sat on his "park bench", and as do I with regards to helping others, and my fellow firefighters, and I know she (my angel, psychologist)will find me, and we'll talk quietly, and get ready to push the snowball up the mountain again.
Thank you for allowing me to write and express my thoughts about this challenge, but I assure you that I have no regrets, because in the end it will help others. Mission accomplished, so to speak.
Larry

Rachel's Story - Intro

Hi, my name is Rachel.  I’m 25 years old.  I have a two-year old Yorkie whom I adore.  I am a vegetarian and Indian & Sushi are among my favourite foods.  In my spare time I love practicing yoga and watching movies.  I have a degree from the University of Ottawa in Theatre (I LOVE acting and directing) and in Communications.  I’m a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a student, an employee, a friend.  I am one of the 1 in 5 people affected by mental illness in our community.  I have Bipolar Disorder.

 

Clearly, the decision to be open with others about any illness is very personal and, unfortunately, there is lots of stigma attached to mental illness in particular.  But I want to share my experience of this disease with you; both the experiences of my past, and the journey I’m on now.  I’m eager to share because for the first 23 years of my life, I hid the symptoms and feelings I was so ashamed of.  No one in my world talked about mental illness.  I didn’t know of anyone who saw a psychiatrist or had a diagnosed psychiatric disorder.  I had no idea that my out-of-control moods and dark thoughts were in fact due to a chemical imbalance.  I felt so alone.  So I spent every day putting all of my energy into showing the world that I was ok – just like everybody else (it’s no wonder that when it came time to choosing what I wanted to pursue at University, I wanted to learn acting!).  As you may know from personal experience, this is an exhausting way to live.  In class at school, I tried very hard to focus so as not to break down in tears.  I just wanted to lie curled up on the floor and disappear forever.  I still feel this way much of the time.  In fact, this past week or so has been filled with feelings like this.  I am relieved, though, to have a reason (a diagnosis) and people to talk with about it (whether that be a friend, a family member or my doctor).  It has been freeing to not feel that I have to hide this HUGE thing I am going through.  The openness has created somewhat of a support system.  People in my life weren’t able to help me when they didn’t know what, if anything, was wrong.  That being said, my natural instinct when I’m sick is still to withdraw from the world and isolate myself, even from the people who are closest to me.  It continues to be a constant struggle right now, every day.  I realized this past week that I was falling back into my old pattern of faking feeling good.  It’s so hard when I know that everyone in my life wants so desperately for me to be well.  I hate disappointing them…but I think I hate the loneliness even more.  I know that I’ve never felt worse by speaking honestly about my mental illness.   That being said, I hope that voicing my experience here will help me manage my symptoms and, more than anything, I hope that someone with similar symptoms might feel a little less lonely by reading about my journey.

thanks for reading.   

see you next week,

Rachel

 

 

FirefightersStory-Trying to Protect My Family

As does everyone, I would do anything to protect my family. As I was taught, and had to learn though, by trying to protect my family from what I was going through with PTSD and other related symptoms, I was actually causing them more harm. This was a very tough lesson for me to learn though, and even though my psychologist explained this to me, many times, I still showed up in therapy with stories of ways that I hid what I was going through. Then, of course, she would patiently explain it to me, again, and again, to make me think, show me the reasons why I shouldn't hide what I was going through and feeling, in the hopes I would understand. This would be repeated to me for many many months.
I had a severe fear, and problem with "feelings" and dealing with and accepting them. I was totally numb to any and all feelings when I entered therapy. It was part of many years of numbing them, in order to survive and continue firefighting and living. This just happened, it was automatic, and I didn't have to try to do any of this, it was just my brains reaction I suppose to survive whatever I had seen and been through for many years as a firefighter.
My thinking was that if I tried to hide what I was feelling and going through, then everybody would think that I was okay, and things were normal. For years though, in my gradual decline, and denial, I thought I was doing a good job of trying to cover things up, so as not to worry my family, but also to protect them. I didn't realize just how much I had changed though, nevermind the inside, but on the outside. Nobody said anything though, or if they did, it wasn't to my knowledge. As I look back now though, things couldn't have been more obvious to all, and the only person that thought I was succeeding in covering things up so as to look and act 'normal', was me.
I'll just talk about one thing that I hid from my family, and everyone for that matter. Rather, I should say I 'thought' I hid from my family.
Endless tears, and crying uncontrollably. Yes, I'm not too proud now to say that I spent most days in neverending tears. I had deteriorated emotionally and was truly in a very 'fragile' state of mind.
I did everything in my power to hide my tears. I ran and hid at from my family at home, as well as having to have many strategies for hiding my many breakdowns at work. Obviously when at work, there were many other obvious risks I took with regards to getting 'caught' and suffering extreme embaressment. What the hell would you say to a bunch of macho tough firefighters who weren't suppose to cry, or in reality, be human.
I had so many ups and downs throughout the day, and it wouldn't be unusual for me to have upwards of probably between fifteen to twenty episodes of crying per day during my worst times. They obviously weren't all at home, but out in public places.
I did everything I could to avoid going out in public for fear of breaking down into tears. I had withdrew from venturing out as much as possible, and avoided any public contact with people as best I could. When forced to go out, to say get food, I always had to be ready to run out of the store and somehow avoid people who would see my tears. Quite the feeling as you could imagine.
At work, I had to find places to hide from my guys in order to hide when the tears flowed freely.
These episodes also came out of nowhere, blindsiding me as I say. For no particular reason, there they were.
At home, I would spend a great deal of time either running outside so my family wouldn't see me in tears, or as all too often would happen,trying to be as quiet as I could at night in bed, not sleeping, and crying uncontrollably into my pillow.
The most important lesson she (my psychologist) taught me was to share, share and share some more with my family. These were the people who were closest to me, yet I was keeping them as far away from me as possible. They were there to support me, as well as needing support themselves. In order for my family to help me, I had to allow them to 'know' what I was feeling and going through. If I didn't allow them in, to my world, and what was happening, then how or who was I expecting to give me support and allow me to try and focus on "my job" of working hard in therapy, in order to survive and find "my HOPE" in life. Therapy and my 'fight' took every ounce of energy I had, what little I had by now. So, it was explained, again and again to me, that by allowing my family to help with the little things, so I could fight the 'big things', they would be part of the solution. This would mean that some of THEIR fears would be allowed to be addressed also, as they were all going "to hell and back" with me. If I was scared and didn't understand what was going on, and what the outcome would be, try to think how NOT letting those closest to you, your family, to stand by helplessly by the sidelines and watch the 'self-destruction' of their complete family unit.
I know and realize it is one thing for me to say to others to try their best to allow their loved ones to help them, but I am talking from experience, and am hoping that by passing on this experience, it will help others to move forward faster on their own road to recovery during therapy and will find their own "light at the end of the tunnel", it IS there, trust me, and to find their own personal HOPE, which is the beginning of their own personal dreams and aspirations.
YOU CAN DO IT, I know you can. Continue to be BRAVE and COURAGEOUS as I know you are.
Thanks, Larry

FirefightersStory-Why Am I Doing This?

I feel compelled to write this short message, and my goal here is to elaborate on a few points due to circumstances that have taken place quietly behind the scenes shall we say.I have been working very hard quietly on this forum by trying to shed light for others with regards to showing,and reinforcing the message that there is HOPE in others future who might be suffering as I did with mental illness.. I do this by writing my story and trying to shed some light on what I went through so that others will see that they are 'normal' in experiencing their feelings through their turbulent times they are facing. These messages of HOPE, are meant to inspire, and comfort others. With regards to what I am also trying to accomplish, I am also very committed in my resolve, and my intention has always been, and will never waiver in my quest to help my fellow firefighters, which has, and continues to be a very daunting task, due to many complicated reasons and issues I am faced with. I MUST say a few things, to try and reiterate and explain why I am so strongly committed to writing, and answering peoples comments,which is my contribution to hopefully helping others. As I said, it is a very complicated and "restrictive" situation that I am faced with, but that does not mean that my resolve to help others is in ANYWAY doubtful in my mind. I BELIEVE in what I am trying to do for others, and am truly grateful for the opportunity I have been given, not only by being alive after my ongoing struggles, but also by being accepted and by being priviledged to have access to this truly wonderful site.
I have been doing alot of soul searching, so to speak. I now know that I am faced with a monumental task in order to try and erase not only the many stigmas, but also the denials by some that we need a proper program in place that is run by qualified professionals, with care that is all encompassing such as was afforded to me. The "denial" I am speaking about and relating to MUST NEVER be confused with the denial by those that are trying to come to grips with their problems, as that is a completely separate situation altogether and again MUST NOT AND NEVER BE confused with the following statements, or observations that follow.
Those that should and must know better, whom we rely on to put those of us who suffer, or who have suffered, FIRST, need to be educated in as timely a manner as possible to be open to proper care and programs as they are suppose to be the people who look out for us, whom we rely on for our "protection" and help in our time of need. To deny, or to not provide a "voice" for us, is beyond comprehension, and in fact makes me quite disillusioned to say the least.
Some who read this might understand what I am saying, but I would also like to relate another personal story with reference to a hero of mine, General Romeo Dallaire, which follows.

Where am I going with this? First, a brief recollection. Not too long after I entered therapy, going through hell, I decided I wanted to try and read about a geuine hero, who suffered from something that I had, PTSD. I looked to this man, and up to this man.I knew nobody else who had this, and I was searching for some understanding, and some answers. I needed to know everything. What he went through, how he got it, to see if his story and its effects on him would relate in anyway to what I was going through. I felt so alone, as well as numerous other terrible fears and emotions as I have touched on before.
I was looking for answers to my fears, and answers to what lay ahead for me. I was also looking for a conclusion, to see how I would turn out. I looked to this man for HOPE! We know he suffered from PTSD, but also, there was so much more.

To me, and many others, General Dallaire was a pioneer, a soldiers soldier. He did get help for his illness, PTSD. He believed in his soldiers. He protected his soldiers.His soldiers came FIRST! He helped his soldiers by putting them before the disbelievers, the uneducated with regards to mental illness, and the proper care and help they deserved. He led by example, in that he was not afraid to acknowledge that, yes, he had PTSD. He started something that helped his men and women. There might have been those that were denying there was a problem, specifically, acknowledgement of those with PTSD, but he also strongly believed in the need for getting help for his men and women, and battling on to adopt a proper program for the needs of his soldiers. They were his concern, not the disbelievers who would look the other way, or forget where they came from. He never gave up, no matter what the consequences!

Nor will I.

My psychologist and I talk constantly, still.(always will too!) She reminded and relayed to me the unfortunate episode with regards to the General, a possible parallel. I have a PARK BENCH waiting for me with my name on it, as General Dallaire did. Many will understand what I am saying, and for those that do not, you will have to wait, as will I, to explain.

I told her that yes, I also have "my bench" with my name on it, and that I understood this. I hope to avoid it, BUT, that I knew she would find me, or I would call her as I was sitting, and would wait for her, and we would talk quietly. I look forward to that chat, and we can start the fight again.

I can sum this all up by saying that, "When you hear the call, you can't ignore it, no matter what the cost."

I will conclude with that message, and will try to write for others again today, but forgive me please if I do not write more today,as I have said before, I know my limitations, and I might be done for today.

Thanks, Larry

FirefightersStory-Why I HAD to Enter Therapy

I remember all too well just how low I was, and had slid away from everyone around me. There was a state of total confusion in our household. My family, who loved me the most, and I them, were the people furthest from me. My wife was screaming inside, desperate for me to get help, in order that somehow it would save our family, and me. My kids had no understanding of what was going on. How could anyone expect my three young girls to understand something that my wife and myself as adults couldn't understand. Everyone was reeling with anger, and we were self destructing. My family , and myself included, all found a way to avoid each other, in order to survive from me and all the 'problems' , symptoms that I was exhibiting, and had, and thus caused. A tremendous feeling of guilt had overcome me by this time.


We all enter therapy for our own reasons. My reasons, I'm sure were similar to others, a combination of many things all culminating in my decision to start and embrace my therapy.


My whole world had hit rock bottom. I was scared with the choice that had been forced upon me. I say forced, because I had played all the cards I had in my hand, so to speak. I was lost, and would, and was, losing my family. My "avoidance" wasn't working. My family had collapsed as a "family unit" and was non existant. My wife and kids were going to leave me, their decision was already made, though at the time, I didn't realize that if I didn't change somehow, this is what was about to happen. My family was still holding onto THEIR HOPE that I would realize, by myself, that all of our existance together was so desperate and bleak that I would make that "lifesaving decision" and take the next step for ALL of us! Intensive, specialized treatment.

I had sought treatment though after I was trapped in the fire that I came so close to dying in. I had done everything that I knew to survive, cope, and yes, to avoid. I was running on empty. I had nothing left inside me that would allow me to change anything. I thought that because I had already sought help, that this was as good as it was going to get. Absolutely, perfectly, miserable! This was a nightmare, for everyone involved, literally and figuratively.

There were many symptoms I was experiencing now, and all were raging full force. My whole body was on a heightened state of "alertness". The nightmares that had plagued me for years had increased tenfold by now. This was when I got any sleep at all, which was extremely rare, and even while on medication to knock me out, to give me a brief respite from the nightmare that I was living. Ya, and that really worked well!! NOT!
I don't know how I didn't overdose on the sleeping pills , nerve pills, and combination of both that I was taking just to get maybe an hours sleep, as I had been doing for years, and getting more desperate to try and get rid of my nightmares. I was terrified of sleeping though, because I knew what I had to look forward to. Sheer terror, vivid real life and in color movies of those two prominent traumatic incidents/fires that were the focus of my being now. Not a minute went by that somehow, I didn't find myself replaying, and reliving those two incidents. Awake, asleep, didn't matter, images, sights and sounds of a movie playing over and over in my brain. When I did manage to fall asleep, my wife would often be awakened to me screaming at the top of my lungs. It sounds like a cliche, but this is true, awakened to blood curdling screams. I would bolt upright, screaming, sweating, hyperventilating, and very confused and extremely scared because I wouldn't know where the hell I was, or what had just happened. That was it for the rest of the night as I would have to stay awake for the rest of the night and stay busy in order to not fall asleep, as if that was going to happen, but I would end up sitting up in a chair in the livingroom, and crying uncontrollably. Other times, when I did manage to fall asleep, I would end up disturbing her sleep by twitching, shaking, or as she says, flip flop and rock and rolling. There were times that I would be asleep, dreaming, and breathing at a very rapid rate and twitching. Other times, you did everything you could to wake up and stop the nightmares, as you would be saying to yourself that this is horrific, wake up , stop it, all subconsciously of course, but to no avail.
This is just some of what was going on, and why I had to enter therapy. I will continue next sunday, as I must end it here and quit, as I have said before, I know my limitations, and again this has been very difficult to write about as it is still extremely raw and emotional, as well as draining for me. Maybe you will be able to relate to some of what I have written here, and if you do, then please remember one thing, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!
Thanks, Larry

FirefightersStory-PTSD Affects the Whole Family

Having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was accompanied by alot of other side effects and symptoms. Major depression, nightmares, flashbacks, night terrors, sleep deprivation, lack of interest and withdrawing from everyone, and more, but we'll keep the "more" for another time. These are just some of my symptoms that made up and contributed to my helplessness. And these symptoms also had other spinoff symptoms as I will refer to them. They all contributed to my life being totally out of control at the best of times, and making my family life totally non existant, and I felt like I was always in a state of "living hell!" If I couldn't control what was going on, and what I was doing, what was happening to me, and what I was experiencing on a daily and nightly basis, well, I still cannot totally understand how my family must've felt, as their lives were in just as much turmoil and kaos as a result of my illness, and it was their lives that were also turned upside down. I would even go so far as to say that we had no life, in that they had lost me, a husband to my wife, and a father to my girls, and I lost them, as they wanted little to do with me because of the way I was acting, and the way my PTSD symptoms changed me so profoundly. And I don't blame them for feeling that way, as we were in a "living hell!".
There were so many times that I wanted to leave, as I felt so guilty for ruining their lives, and they didn't deserve to go through this, as the patient(me) is obviously not the only one affected, but the whole family. I wasn't the only one that had to keep what I was going through a secret from anyone I came in contact with, be it work, relatives etc. my family also had to hide what was going on with me, and them, because they too didn't want any of their friends to know just how miserable it was in our house. From the outside it looked like we were a normal family, but on the inside, well not so normal to say the least. My family didn't want to invite any of their friends, family to our house because of the "fear and embarressment" they all felt. Who would want to bring anyone over and risk me having an "episode" or acting and saying something that would embarress them.
The point I am trying to make, albeit it in a broad roundabout way, and by telling you a bit about how my family was affected, is that sometimes, things happened that came out of nowhere, sending you into a state of panic, scaring the hell out of you, and all your family see's is the effects it has on you, such as running out of the house, in tears, jumping in the truck, and leaving without telling them what had just happened, because they wouldn't understand,(this was pre-therapy) and driving to get away from everyone, and of course with the cell phone off so nobody could reach me as I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to get away. Sound familiar to any of you??? Maybe I'm the only one who has done things or felt like this?? You tell me. I had many episodes like this, what I called "getting slammed". Out of nowhere, I would be hit with a vision, memory, reliving a "messy" fire call , a call that was so vivid and in living color, so real you'd swear you were actually there again, and thinking and feeling like you were so out of control, and were going "nuts"! When these particular types of events(flashbacks) happened, there was no way to stop them, and you would replay it over and over no matter what you might try to do to avoid or stop them. And they would always end the same way, in a horrifically messy ending with loss of life or lives in my case, a vivid image burned into my memory, never to be forgotten, as I relived fire calls that were like that, and which I had kept to myself and never told anyone that it was bothering me, or I was having problems dealing with it, because as I have said, you just didn't talk about that stuff because that would mean you weren't "tough" and it showed you had a weakness, and others would question your abilities and capabilities on the job. Stigmatisms at its finest, right!?
This was just a small glimpse into some of what we went through and experienced together as a family, and how a mental illness affects more than just the patient.
I will end it here, as this was hard to divulge, very personal, and exhausting for me, and as I said before, I know my limitations now and when it's time to take a break.
Till next sunday, and I welcome your comments, Larry