After publishing my last post I had found myself unable to write again. It was probably the toughest post I have ever written and published. There are so many feelings that surround a sexual assault, and it took me a little while to sort through that. It’s okay though, I worked through my issues and I’m doing better now. I’m ready to write again!

Initially when I started seeing my p-doc she thought I had narcolepsy. It was visited only briefly as other problems started to become more of a priority. So much is coming to light now that my head feels like it’s going to spin.

My latest appointment was pretty informative, at least on the medical side. I have always had “nap attacks” for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I can push through them, most of the time I can’t. Lately it has been getting worse, which may seem odd because I have been doing pretty okay. I have my moments but overall I’m not doing too bad right now.

A couple of weeks ago the nap attacks started after about 3 months of not having them sneak up on me. I noticed a pattern with the nap attacks, however: they only happen when I am doing okay. If I am doing really bad, suffering from severe anxiety or paranoia, or if I feel depressed, the nap attacks just don’t happen.

Ten years ago I was violently raped and beaten by a friend. This happened in my home, in my bedroom, in my bed. While I don’t wish to go into great detail of this particular event in my life, a recent session with my p-doc has brought to light a problem I have had recently with allowing strangers, even family, into my home.

While discussing these fears, we were going over the severe anxiety I have about my two-year-old son needing therapy for his autism. One of the biggest reasons I have not been able to get help for him is because of this terrible problem I have with allowing people into my home. A post I had previously written, My Home Is My Safe Place, detailed the problems I had during and after a super bowl party we hosted. It was a big deal and something I have been struggling to fully understand.

Until now.

The man who raped me was a good friend who I had worked with. I didn’t tell a single soul about it out of fear of losing my job. The company was going through changes and they were laying people off. I was terrified if I made a big deal about it I would lose my job. I also struggled with trying to decide whether or not I “welcomed” what had happened.

My SSDI hearing is fast approaching, April 25. I’m very anxious about it and overwhelmed with anger and frustration with my attorney. He’s being a real jerk.

My doctor and SSA both determined my date of onset as August 2004, after the birth of my second child. I didn’t know I had a problem then, but looking back I can agree that my onset was after his birth. I had experienced two years of nonstop stress and emotional trauma, which ended with my newborn almost dying during birth and then suffering from failure to thrive for 6 weeks, and the sudden unexpected death of my grandfather just 3 weeks after he was born. It was a lot to deal with.

It all makes sense – now.

So during a recent meeting with my attorney I expressed to him that I wanted to change the onset date I put on my application to match what the SSA and my doctor both said. I had one 3 month long job in 7 years, but according to the SSA even though it was three months it was still considered an unsuccessful work attempt.

This morning we had some pretty intense storms. I don’t get up with my oldest so when the 6am storms hit I realized he didn’t wake me for a ride to the bus stop. I was sad. I did lay in bed though for some time watching my bedroom light up and listening to the rumble.

The baby woke and was quite disturbed by the loud sounds he was unfamiliar with, but my other two upstairs didn’t make a peep. I listened for whispers or cries and heard nothing. I left well enough alone and crawled back into bed to enjoy the beautiful sound of crackling thunder. It was awesome.

When the other two finally got up to get ready for school they started talking about the storm that I was certain they had slept through. Apparently my little girl got scared and climbed into bed with her big brother. He was so annoyed and frustrated that he had to be the hero. When I looked into her eyes and saw the genuine comfort she found in her big brother while she was so scared it really took me back a little.

Those are words everyone hates. Anyone who has ever dated has heard that phrase a time or two. It’s a terrible phrase and it should be banned from lips worldwide.

For me right now, those words could not be more true. I am so frustrated I just don’t know what to do.

My husband is so angry and irritated with me. I have been dealing with so much lately and it has been very overwhelming emotionally. When I get overwhelmed I withdraw and pull away from everyone. It’s my way of dealing with things. Unfortunately, even though we’ve been together for 9 years now he has just now noticed my responses. Maybe before he just didn’t care enough to pay attention or he just simply didn’t notice. I’m not sure but right now he’s turned into a big baby.

I had started a new medication 2 weeks ago called Latuda. It hasn’t been approved for Bipolar but is very helpful in patients with Schizophrenia. The first 9 days went very well aside from some mild agitation. I was calm and collected, relaxed, and felt really good.

Then I reached day 10.

Friday afternoon while I was fixing dinner I became extremely agitated. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin, I was exhausted but I couldn’t sit still. I wanted to “go, go, go” but all I could do was sit. Let me just say it was the creepiest feeling I have ever felt in my entire life! To be honest I think I can compare it to a severe manic agitation, only instead of great thoughts and attitude I plunged into an unimaginable suicidal state. It took me a bit to realize it was the medication.

Midway through my dinner preparations I walked into the living room, looked at my husband and said “I want to die. I feel like I just want to die. I don’t want to live. I am scared.” He looked at me with a total and complete panic. He didn’t know what to say or do, and I just started to cry hysterically.

Since finding my new doctor, most of our time has been spent trying to decide which medication will work to help with the Bipolar and anxiety. Now that we have that under control, we have ventured into further treating any other underlying conditions that may be making my life miserable. Then she said it.

Borderline Personality Disorder.

Wow. That was all I could think. I sat in a slight state of disbelief for a short while dissecting those words in my mind as she was talking. I have to admit, even I have stigmatized it. I felt – horrible.

We went over it all and as she was listing all of the traits I was showing which lined up perfectly with the new co-existing condition. I was silent, softly nodding my head. I knew she was right, I knew she was on to something. I knew I had been pegged – perfectly. That is me.