R/O PTSD
x-posted from mumblingmadman.com
Today was a day unlike all of the 14,931 that have preceded it in my life. Today I went to the Veterans Administration Medical Center (VAMC) to attend an appointment with my psychiatrist. I assumed going into it that it was a normal appointment although I’ll concede that I see my psychiatrist more often since my hospitalization. I had no indication this appointment would bring me crashing through doors into rooms in my mind I had no intention of visiting ever again since I locked and sealed them many years ago. Today we explored PTSD.
Sigh… In an attempt to purge this day I may as well write about it. Over the thousands of pages of medical records, there are many references to PTSD. Some entries state PTSD Diagnosis Recommend, sometimes in all capital letters. Others have R/O PTSD under DSM IV Axis I - meaning Rule out PTSD or in other words a diagnosis that deserves further exploration. For years, I have denied a diagnosis of PTSD. I wanted nothing to do with this albatross. It was easy to dodge when in the private health market where a patient can almost select his or her poison, i.e. diagnosis, as if browsing a bazaar but, at the VA, well… that is a different story. My psychiatrist and I had spoken about evaluating this diagnosis. I just didn’t expect it today.
Sorry, but I’m not going to go into the details of the session. It suffices to simply state I have never, ever, hit so many emotions - more emotions than can be fathomed - over the course of 45 minutes. I’ll do my best to list what I can: tense, anxious, afraid, ashamed, depressed, pathetic, proud, pissed, volatile, apathetic, trapped, paranoid and horribly alone. This is just what I can think of now. When I left, I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions. There was a short wait and I sat there staring off into space feeling totally and utterly exhausted. I don’t remember the drive home or emailing my wife when I got there. All I remember is laying in bed clutching my pillow as waves of nausea washed over me. I am certain I took some diazepam because I slept until almost seven.
I’m glad today is over, but would have preferred it did not exist. On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is the most upsetting day you can have, this was a 15. Fuck.