In this latest episode of PTSD talks, we chronicle the next step towards official looniness in the degrading mind of a grieving mother slash insomniac slash crazy lady.
Met with my CNP on Monday to give her the news that the med we had hoped would work – that seemed to be working – no longer works. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Hellloooo insomnia resurgence.
So, my CNP threw in the towel. I need stronger/more aggressive med management than she can prescribe. I’m officially referred to a psychiatrist. This irritates me. Especially since the first available appointment isn’t until a week after my youngest daughter would have turned three. I think mainly because I feel like I reach out for help, alllllmooooost got it, and then it slipped through my fingers.
You know from my last post that my mind is not in a good place right now. I feel like every year gets worse instead of better. Like my crazy is scratching at the walls I put up to protect myself, and when it finally jailbreaks, the feces is going to hit the oscillating object in a most glorious fashion.
I just want to sleep.
That’s it. Just sleep.
How much can a mind be expected to take with no supports in place?
I guess we’ll find out. Lets see if I make it through another cycle of hell without going insane.
Side note: My boss, who has a background in mental health, wants me to speak with the psychiatrist about a possible ADHD diagnosis. I thought this was interesting because when I was younger, my teachers talked about getting me tested. However, it never happened because I was a straight A student, never disrupted class, etc. I just quickly and efficiently did my work, then lost myself in another world. I have a lot of the classic ADHD symptoms. It’ll be interesting to see what the doctor says.