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Nothing has gone right this morning...

Today is not going good and it's only 6:38 in the morning. I fell asleep early last night because I knew I had to be at work and hour earlier then normal but it still didn't seem to make a difference. I'm tired and I just want to go home. My room mate started texting me before 6 because I didn't take the garbage out but I'm just not able to keep my brain where it needs to be. I was going to take the garbage out but I drove right past it (Our driveway is really really long so you actually have to drive the can down to the street). Then on the way in I was going to stop and get myself some kind of sandwich because I forgot to pack my lunchbox (which I put breakfast, snack and lunch in) but I drove right past the bagel place...Then I drove past Dunkin Doughnuts. I get to work and realize I am super early but start my work anyway because I just can't sit there or I will fall asleep and finally it comes time to punch in. I get to the clock...forgot my badge on the desk. Go back and get my badge and then punch in before going back and doing a few more things. We have a gas station at the bottom of our hill so I was going to go to it and get something to eat just so my stomach would stop growling. Nope, just kidding. Got there and realized that I didn't have my wallet because it was still in my purse. So I have pretty much given up hope that today is going to be a good day. I just want to get through it, let it be 2pm and go home and nap. My room mate won't be home til probably 5 so maybe I will take a nice bath and try to help relax myself but chances are I won't have the energy to do that.

Rough Week

I have been trying to figure out this week what I should write about because I explained my life in my last blog. It has been a rough week for me and I believe that it has to do with it being a "lady week". My medication seemed to have kicked back in but I have still be having a hard time getting through the day. I cut a few times 2 days ago but I would be lying if I said I had regrets about it.

An ex of mine has been texting me and telling me that he wants to get back together. He says that he thinks that we are really good together and that it was just a situation of right place, wrong time. I don't have the heart to turn him away but I havn't made any plans to see him. He texts me daily but the problem that I am having the hardest time with is that him and my roomate seem to be eachothers number one enemies. I do not want to bring any tension into my house because it's supposed to be my safe place but I also don't really want to be in a relationship with him either. I think that I am addicted to the feeling of being needed and he fullfills that but I don't want to dance around and make it a task just to be with him.

Another of my exs is a friend of mine and while my brother doesn't like him, I talk to him everyday because he is very aware of my situation and is all in when it comes to helping me. He calls me if he hasn't heard from me and he checks up to see if I have done anything. I haven't seen him in person since I cut but he knows that it happened.

I would like to start this next paragraph with "one of my best friends" but I am not sure I can say that. I don't know if it's the truth or just the depression talking when I say that I don't think he is "friends" with me because of me. He slept with my best friend (before I was interested in him) and she has a "go get it girl" attitude because she knows that I like him now. The problem is that he doesn't want to be with me and he also knows about my depression and anxiety. He sometimes treats me like I am a child when he is trying to help me through an issue and that makes me uncomfortable but I guess I have to talk to him about that. I think that he still has a thing for my roommate and that bothers me more then it should. He comes over and ccuddles me sometimes but he says it's because we both want the same thing, someone to cuddle with. He knows that is not true but it seems to go right over his head.

I am all over the place in this blog and I'm sorry about that but I am looking for advice I guess. I'd like someone to talk to that is going through this as well to talk to instead of someone who doesn't know. I will write some more tomorrow I think but it's 2:30 in the morning and I'm at work so I need to get up and walk around or I am going to fall asleep. I need a sleep without a nightmare and I hope I get that when I get home.

All About Me

To put it all out on the table, I was raped when I was 16. I was a virgin at the time and it was by my best friend's father. I have never told her this, nor do I ever plan to tell her this. The past is the past and her father died a few years after this due to alcoholism so I feel like I would tarnish her father's reputation in her eyes if I told her. She knows that he did something but I have only ever said that he touched me in a way that I didn't like. You see, the situation started because she lived down the street from me. She had called me and told me that I could meet her at her house and that her and her stepmom would be home from the store in a little bit. I thought that the walk was going to take longer but as it was, it took longer than they expected for her to get home and it took less time than expected for me to get to the house. Her father was drunk as usual and he was not a small man. He quickly overpowered me and I try to forget the rest of what happened. I do understand that this could play one of the most important parts of the PTSD that I was later diagnosed with but  I don't feel like I can say I have PTSD.


Fast forward a few years and I'm an overweight senior in high school whose major accomplishments include being a section leader in the marching band and being on the first aid squad. I'd been a babysitter for a few years and worked for my best friend's mom folding letters and mailing them after medical conventions had happened. At this point in my life I had started to look for "real" jobs. Nothing really appealed to me but I needed more money than what the once in awhile work was getting me. Along came the opportunity to work at a family owned pool store in town. I jumped on that and was working after school and on weekends. The money wasn't fantastic but then again, it was better than what I was getting from babysitting. I needed money and I needed to be away from the place that ruined my life.


I graduated high school with super shitty grades and went to the county college where I started the prerequisites for the nursing program. I made it 2 semesters and then switched my major over to Business Administration because I did not have the attention span or skills in math for the nursing program. Turns out that when I switched my program to Business, they made it "Business Career" instead of Business Administration which is just another way of me saying that I did all that work for nothing. The Business Career degree gets you diddly squat. So here I am now...10 years later, 6 classes away from finally getting an associates in Business Administration. I have had to take more then 4 semesters off throughout that time due to different reasons like not having the money or having a hard time mentally to focus on classes.


I have been at the same job what will be nine years in March and I hate every minute of it. I want out and I want to do something that will let me interact with less people. As weird as it sounds to many people, I want an office job where I can sit in my cubicle and be left alone. I want a job where I can focus on filing and organizing. I want a job where the only person who depends on me is me. Right now, I'm an EMT. Without trying to build it up, people's lives actually depend on what I do and I can't handle that kind of responsibility. One of the major downfalls of EMS in general is that you don't get to have off like everyone else. Sure I get my 2 days where I am not schedualed to work (mine are Sunday and Monday)....technically....but I generally have to work either one or both off those "days off" because we are short shifted. I never go home on time and sleep is something that is so rare to me that even if I do get a chance to sleep in, I am up within 4 hours of falling asleep.


I am on an antidepressant in the morning and I have to take a Xanex at night to help me get to sleep and that is something that is going to change soon because my therapist does not think that the 100mg of Zoloft is working for me. I have horrid nightmares that wake me up shaking, sweating, and terrified to move and I either have to have the tv on or a night light because the darkness scares me. I have an irrational fear of long rotted fingers with very long sharp nails coming out from under my bed and trapping me which leads to my claustrophobia. I say irrational because my bed is 1/2 an inch off of the ground and nothing can get under it. I have 3 locks on my window because I'm scared someone will break in and I check the house doors and windows at least twice before I get into bed. Most nights I end up crying after waking up and immediately have to call my best friend for comfort (he works the overnight so I am able to do so without disturbing his sleep. I live with a roomate who has become acustomed to me joining her in bed at night when I can't hide from the nightmares but she tells me that it's okay because she also has been diagnosed with depression and anxiety.

A normal day for me includes at least 2 panic attacks and when I have them, I need to be alone. The problem that I have is, like I brought up before, I am in EMS...we don't get alone time. Stress is somthing that comes with the job and that is something I have come to accept but my therapist does not like. She is currently attempting to help me figure out a less stressful job that will allow me time to recover from a panic attack.


I got married in 2010 and we had been together since 2007. in 2014, a week before my birthday, he left me with the reasoning of "it just doesn't feel like what I thought marraige would feel like". When I asked him to elaborate on that he told me that he couldn't because he didn't even know how to. 16 months later he still can't tell me what it was that ended it and I think that is what screws me up the most. After he left I started to see my therapist because my best friend insisted that I find one. She is a great woman who has a specialty in PTSD because she was practicing IN NYC at the time of the WTC attacks. She has treated more patients that were in the city then I can even imagine and she is still an absolutely amazing woman even after that. My ex husband told my roomate that he was mad that I never told him that I needed to see a therapist and it took her explaining that it's hard enough to admit to yourself that you need help...forget about telling others for him to get it. While we were together I had saved as much money as I could and tried my hardest to get him to help me look for a house that we could start out new life in. He knew I wanted children and pets and the whole kit an kaboodle but he never even tried to help. 6 months after he left he bought a house and was moved in. He even had the balls to ask me to allow him to use part of our mutual savings to put a down payment on it. Of course I agreed because I will let someone walk all over me before I even think about turning them down. I am always worried about making everyone else happy even if it is at the expense of my own happiness. (The status of my current love life will be another blog post which connects with that statement.)

So now you know about some of the things that have led me to the point I am at now but what led me to this website? You know that feeling you get where you don't want to bother anyone else with your issues? That is how I have been feeling for the past few days. Granted that it is mostly my fault because I haven't taken my Zoloft in probably a week and a half but I always seem to forget. I elluded earlier to my therapist telling me that she believes that I have PTSD from my history in the medical field but I am having a hard time accepting that. It is not so much the diagnosis but the title. I do not want to say it's a stigma, it is just something that I don't feel I have been through enough to claim that. Although she has gone through the signs and symptoms and I have been easily able to easy yes without much thought to it, I feel like maybe I am just making myself have a diagnosis I don't deserve. To me, PTSD is something that soldiers who have been to war have, it is something that someone who has seen some real shit is diagnosed with. I feel like the way I am explaining it makes me sound like I am glorifying PTSD but that is not my intention. It is just hard for me to explain.

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