Tag: ptsd

QotD: Black Ops

Andy Young4 Comments
rustic padlocked door with weathered texture

What is a completely mundane, everyday task that you approach with the tactical intensity of a military black-ops mission?

Here is mine: During the daylight hours, I am a perfectly reasonable member of society. The windows are open, the air flows, and I exist in a state of relative, breezy normalcy. But the absolute second the sun starts to dip below the horizon? My brain flips a switch, the triggers fire up, and securing this flat becomes a high-stakes tactical mission. PTSD and FND attacks occur almost nightly unless I secure the flat.

To be fair, the area I live in isn’t exactly a gated utopia—as anyone who read the saga of the crackhead porch pirates will remember. So, when dusk hits, the perimeter gets sealed. We are talking vibration sensors on the windows, blackout blinds drawn tight across the front, front door sensors armed, and triple locks fully engaged. I’m currently plotting to add an exterior motion sensor or a Ring doorbell just to get early-warning perimeter breach alerts. And if anyone actually makes it past the electronics, they still have to face the ultimate deterrent: two highly trained attack Rottweilers cleverly disguised as pet budgies.

The only people officially cleared to breach the airlock after dark are the care staff. Fortunately, they have the code to the key safe outside and gracefully humor my intense evening weirdness as they let themselves in. They understand that once the sun goes down, this isn’t just a flat in a residential block anymore; it’s a heavily monitored fortress.

Drop your highly unnecessary tactical routines in the comments below, so we can compare notes and figure out who is best equipped to survive a zombie apocalypse, or at least a rogue Amazon delivery driver.

Cameras, Cleaning, and a 16-Year-Old Footprint

Andy Young2 Comments
Mr bean

It’s been a week of high security, deep-seated vulnerability, and preparing the bunker for human interaction.

First up on the home security front: I have officially installed a second camera out the front window. I now have the front and back of the house covered. Am I tracking local wildlife, or am I just establishing a tactical perimeter to monitor approaching delivery drivers and avoid unnecessary human contact? A bit of both. Either way, seeing what’s happening outside gives me a subtle layer of safety, which is always welcome when the PTSD brain decides to trigger a multi-day vulnerability spiral. This way I can still see what’s going on out there. Local wildlife includes the odd roaming crackhead.

Speaking of human contact: my best friend is visiting today and staying the night. I haven’t seen him in two years. I’m genuinely excited, but my nervous system is currently celebrating by generating irrational panic. Standard procedure.

To prepare, my weekly cleaning carer has been floating around doing the heavy lifting—changing bedding, hoovering, and tackling the bins. She is worth her weight in gold. Her English is minimal, but her ability to execute a immaculate living room refresh while keeping my tea mug constantly topped up makes her an absolute hero. I still refuse to let anyone else clean my bathroom—that remains a strictly personal domain that I insist on controlling—but I will gladly accept a tactical assist in the lounge and kitchen.

Meanwhile, we are entering the dreaded three-month gauntlet of back-to-back birthdays culminating in Christmas. Every spare penny is already spoken for, particularly as Rebecca is turning 16. Sixteen years ago, when she was born, we had a silver bracelet made featuring a tiny cast of her newborn foot, and I’ve been holding onto it for this exact milestone. It’s spent the last decade and a half in storage, so I’ve ordered a new presentation box and a silver polishing kit to restore it. Assuming I don’t accidentally polish off the footprint entirely, I’ll be posting a before-and-after photo once it’s restored.

For now, the flat is looking fresh, the front camera is operational, and I’m hiding on the sofa until the doorbell rings.

The big bad wolf vs The Black dog

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I did it. I managed to get up, have breakfast, two teas and a coffee and got dressed nicely for the consultant I saw at 9.30. Because they are building ( and god is a vengeful god) on the carparks the closest I could get was a 15-minute walk with a stick. I winched as every time I moved it felt like daggers. Got to K block to be told to go back outside loop around this building and be there. Looked a my watch. 9.20.Dammit Asked the guy to call the consultant’s office to know I’ll be five minutes late. Came out, a frikkin gradient and not in my favour! I stopped a few times but oh the feeling when you sit down is amazing. All your backbones melt away and you are hallucinating. I started getting anxious and angry with myself.

What if he won’t listen? what if he doesn’t know what he’s talking about? Little niggles popping me in the head. Finally, I was guided to yet another bad seat in what resembles a containment space. We made eye contact, well done, keep going. He confirmed some data with me, over twenty calls to the crisis team always make for great conversation. the fractured English was flowing. I then did what I didn’t want to happen. A goddam seizure. In the middle of a mental health assessment. I tried to deal with it as best as I could. I closed my eyes and covered them with my hands. I slowly started saying no repeatedly and just as all the periphery started turning black. I felt the fud of a hand on my shoulder, The doctor was asking what he needed to do, can he get me water, and things like that. 5 minutes and it was over. I blacked out but any for a few moments. My eyes were flickering in the back of my head but yeah that was too real.

Now this poor poor doctor, all of 25-29 years old had no clue what the hell he’d just seen. I just simply said, “Remember when you asked about FND? That’s some of the messed up stuff it makes me do, it is real and a very scary prospect. So we carried on talking about things, he loves fishing as well but hasn’t had the chance yet as he has only been in the UK for 9 months. We walked through the meds and I explained what is for what. We chatted about other stuff but didn’t realise the time when it got to nearly 11 am from 9.30 am. Which is odd as usually, it’s okay we will increase x and discharge. I’m pushing for an A.D.D diagnosis to go along with BPD, PTSD etc. Simply to be able to access resources faster. That, as I said, is a deal breaker. If they feel I have theN I can start lowering three-quarters of my meds and just survive on either a single pill from them.
He said he’d call me on Friday after he’d spoken to his colleagues. Will be interesting. He suggested an anti-epileptic tablet but explained it isn’t like that.

So. I went out, I got to my appointment, I attended and engaged. I hid back in the car but then went straight to Doti’s house and sorted the dogs out. Ended up sleeping on the sofa for an hour and then got on with my charity homework. Then went shopping at Asda and succeeded!

In agony now and should probably rest tomorrow. See how the legs are.

Personal torment, mental health by Library of Congress is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): My Journey to Recovery

Andy Young5 Comments

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) are both mental health conditions that have significantly impacted my life. BPD is characterized by intense and unstable emotions, impulsive behavior, and a distorted sense of self, while PTSD is a condition that can develop after experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event. In this post, I will share my personal experiences with BPD and PTSD, and how they affect my daily life.

Living with BPD and PTSD can be challenging. I experience intense mood swings, from feeling happy and energized one moment to feeling overwhelmed and depressed the next. I struggle with impulsivity and often engage in risky behaviors, such as substance abuse, self-harm, and impulsive spending. The intrusive thoughts and flashbacks that come with PTSD can be terrifying and cause me to feel disconnected from the present moment.

One of the most challenging aspects of my mental health conditions is the hallucinations. I sometimes see or hear things that aren’t really there, and it can be difficult to distinguish reality from my imagination. I also experience night terrors, which are like nightmares but feel more vivid and realistic. They can be triggered by memories of traumatic events, and they often leave me feeling exhausted and on edge.

Another symptom I experience is dementia-like forgetfulness. It’s like my memory has been wiped clean, and I struggle to remember basic information like my address or phone number. This can be frustrating and embarrassing, especially when I’m in public or trying to have a conversation with someone.

To cope with these challenges, I take medication prescribed by my psychiatrist. The medication has helped me manage my symptoms and lead a more fulfilling life. I also practice mindfulness and self-care techniques, such as yoga, meditation, and spending time in nature. These practices have helped me stay grounded and centered, even during the most difficult times.

It hasn’t been easy, but I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’m turning 40 this year, which seems surreal to me, given how much I’ve been through, and what my body has been through. I’m grateful to have made it this far, and I’m determined to continue on the path to recovery.

Living with BPD and PTSD has taught me a lot about myself and the world around me. I’ve learned that mental illness is not a weakness, but a part of the human experience. I’ve also learned that recovery is possible, and that there is hope for a brighter future. If you’re struggling with BPD, PTSD, or any other mental health condition, know that you’re not alone. Reach out for help, talk to a trusted friend, and take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you think, and you deserve to live a happy and fulfilling life.

Meme & memories

Andy Young1 Comment

I recently downloaded all the photos that Google had stored under my account. I keep looking through them, they’ve broken them up into years so it’s interesting time traveling. Today I focussed on the memes. I don’t know why but the cat to the left of this always ALWAYS makes me smile. Its a photo that you can hear saying “What?!” in your head. Then again. Maybe that’s just me and my crazyness. Who wants to be normal anyways!

So I’m back on Spotify again. Although keeping it clean as the kids are home and its weekend. Well clean-ish. I dont approve of my kids swearing but when it comes to music I let them have musical expression. So they can listen to songs with explicit lyrics because sometimes you need them to express a feeling or emotion. Not saying I’ll let them listen to “So what” by Metallica but there run of the mill music is fine.

I’m not sure if its part of the mental health problems that amplify my total and utter hatred of people chewing with mouths open. It drives me insane. I will just randomly walk out of the room so I don’t say something I’ll regret. But seriously? is it that hard to close your mouth?! I think its with most things. I always hated people who chewed gum because of the noise. Thats a weird one. Memories of being 14 and explaining to one of my friends that just because you chew gum it doesnt mean you can’t close your mouth whilst doing it. The kid said “But thats how you chew gum”. He became an ex friend at that point. Shallow and an over reaction. I’m well aware of that.

In retrospect, I’ve done many a petty, over reactive reactions towards differing things. Its not a trait I love about myself

This meme always made me chuckle. My wife is roman catholic, as are the kids. I’m still the outsider. I’ll go with them to church for moral support but I don’t do the kneeling and things. Its important to my wife so I’m supportive of it. B has his holy communion coming up. He has always been “into church stuff” which is great, so he takes it seriously. Well. To a degree. I think he like the story but doesn’t quite follow the rules. Anyways, looking forward to that event next month. We are having a big party in the garden with a few friends coming over. I would say family but I’ve ran out of relatives in this country, the rest are in Holland.

Back to the meme. It actually made me think when did I first figure out where and how babies came from. I honestly for the life of me don’t remember. I have a few gaps in my memory, for example my earliest memories don’t start till I’m like 8 years old and even then they are really vague. One of my first memories being my brother putting heat cream (the cream you put on a muscle and it warms it up) on the toilet seat followed by my screaming after visiting said toilet. Or the time he decided to pee in my glass which had apple juice in and I took a huge gulp. He was lovely.

I had to cancel my therapy this week. I feel bad for that because I’m supposed to stick to it but I’ve been avoiding talking again which I really need to learn not to do. I’ve had a bit of a hard week mentally. I had some really bad ptsd dreams the other night and thats triggered me a bit. Nothing exciting. Just the abuse back from when I was 13. I hate having the dreams. Reliving the same shit over and over again. Part of me thinks I should report them to the police and maybe that’ll give me closure. The other side of me doesn’t want the stress and let it be. Its been along time. Its still something I haven’t fully confronted. I have a had therapy centred around it but it go too intense so I had to back off a bit from it.

Didn’t mean to bum anyone out with that last paragraph. Have an awesome weekend x