Reprocessing

Processing. I'm so sick of the word processing, along with trauma, healing, and so many other therapy buzz words. But apparently this is the stage I'm at in my journey. There is a lot of misconception with ketamine treatments that they in itself will "make you better". (Note: I didn't use the word healing. Let's just lose that word entirely when it comes to CPTSD and treatment resistant depression. Not helpful. In fact, it's hurtful.) 

As ketamine changes the brain's neuroplasticity it also loosens the brain's filtering system. When ketamine loosens the brain's defenses, older parts of your life can start to surface. When the brain becomes more flexible, the protective walls you built to keep painful material contained can loosen. So things you pushed down can surface. Memories, grief, anger, shame, sadness, and flashes of the past all hitting at once.

I thought the incessant crying was over but it's back. I'm told this is processing crying instead of collapse. It feels the same. I broke down the other day in front of friends. I was doing everything in me to hold it together and then one asked about my ketamine treatments and I fell apart. It was humiliating. Everyone was kind and said they loved me but now it's been over a day and no one has reached out. Not a surprise to me as this has happened my entire life. You are told you are safe and to open up, you do it and then silence. No one looked back to see if I was still standing. I get it though as there are no good words to say. If you hit me with some toxic positivity shit then I'll push back hard, but then if nothing is said I'm just as sad. There's no way for anyone to win here. 

Yesterday was brutal. I spent a good 6 hours crying from afternoon to night until I passed out on the couch from the exhaustion of it all. Woke up still crying. My cats were jumping on me and meowing as they knew I wasn't OK. Passed out in another crying fit this afternoon. I don't want to detail my thoughts as they'd land me in inpatient and if that were to happen it would be the literal end of me. I guess there must be some hope left to have the strength to refuse. 

Doing this alone is rough. There is no one to hug you and say they won't leave you. (Well, there never was anyone anyway) I have no safety net. People care about me but at the end of the day it's me holding everything. 

I am just so sick of being this person. It's always me. The sad one, the one alone, the one making bad choices. I have another appointment tomorrow. I'm still trying, but right now I don't know how much I have left.