Eight Months On...

Okay so, eight months ago, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Since then, I've been going to see the doctor every four weeks, I've been going to see counsellors and therapists. I spend every Friday morning on the psych unit working with my therapist. So far, I can't help but feel like I've gotten somewhere, yet at the same time, I've not gotten anywhere.

Okay so, for the most part the flashbacks have stopped. I still get them, but they are not as often as they used to be. I'm still terrified of taking my son to school and picking him up. But I deal with it.

Lately there have been three times when I have had to go past the school where it happened, luckily not past the house, but I have had to go past the school. Each time I get so worked up it's unreal.

I'm still having the nightmares, so am still terrified to sleep. I'm still scared of social situations, they really, really freak me out. Take when I'm on the psych unit for example, the receptionist tries to talk to me, but I won't talk. Someone else comes to sit next to me, I get up. I know what they're going to do and I want to be nowhere near them. I also still have next to no self esteem.

My so called family are so critical of me, it's awful. I have such a struggle going on with them that the therapist considers me to be bullied at home - or at my parents home I should say.

So eight months on, I can honestly say, I still hate my life, I still feel awful and everything, all that's really changed is the visible flashbacks are less.

But hey, if it takes years it takes years. I suppose I've done great to get through eight months of treatment right?