I don't write often. Obviously. It takes a lot for me to sit down and write out my thoughts. I've never been much of a writer. There's always something else I'd rather be doing. So what am I doing tonight? I'm writing down my thoughts, my experiences of the last few months. This is a little bit of a review of the last few years. I need to get it out and typing is faster than writing. I also promised I would write out my emotions of late. Here I go.
I've been going through psychotherapy for the last year and a half. I've felt depressed and anxious for at least four years now and I used the traumatic birth of my daughter as an excuse to finally see a therapist. I experienced a lot of traumas in a few short years and the emotional toll has been hard. Let me list out my traumas:
--14 December 2010: Herniated 2 discs (L4-L5 & L5-S1)
--14 February 2012: Death of my dog, my best friend, Sarah
--30 March 2013: Return home from my mission
--1st week of July 2015: Car accident on the way to work
--Middle of March 2017: Bus accident on the way home from work
--2 February 2018: Near death after the birth of my daughter
--29 August 2019: Miscarriage of baby #2 at 6 weeks development
I'm anxious, depressed, and I have PTSD. Go figure. I've been taking medication for almost a year. I finally got a dog in July. Her name is Biscuit. She's a golden retriever, like Sarah. She's going to be my service animal once she passes the training classes.
My anxiety has really peaked in regards to spiritual matters. I've struggled with my testimony. I have always been able to pray to God, but reading the scriptures and attending church meetings has been difficult. Sometimes my anxiety attacks turn into panic attacks. I've had to avoid spiritual discussions.
Last week I had an epiphany. I made a connection between my mental illnesses. I was telling Evan about how I don't feel like I belong in our new ward and how much I miss our old ward. That developed into talking about my mission and then realizing that all my problems are derived from my back injury. Okay, not all the problems are derived from my back injury, but a lot of the anxiety and depression that I have are from it. It is the main cause of my PTSD.
When I herniated my discs, the first doctor to look at my MRI results told me that it looked like someone took a sledge hammer to a 60-year old back. I was devastated. Then, when I saw a neurosurgeon, she said that I just had herniated discs but that I couldn't live my life the way I had been. My physical therapist took the neurosurgeon's list and said to be careful, especially when bending over. I've been living my life with hesitance. I have not been living to the fullest. I have been holding myself back for fear of injury and permanent damage. I've never known if I healed or not. I always assumed that I haven't healed because I still have back and leg pain almost 9 years after the initial incident.
I went to an orthopedic surgeon's office on 12 September 2019. I asked for a reevaluation. They took an X-ray and ordered an MRI. The PA who saw me said it looks like the residual pain I have is from the lower disc (L5-S1) and that that disc is degenerating. She isn't positive because she can't see the disc itself, just the space between the vertebrae. I asked her about what I can and can't do. What are my risk levels. She told me that I can do whatever I want to do. It's been almost 9 years. I don't need to be holding myself back for anything other than normal limits. I can go run a marathon if I want to! (I hate running.) I have an MRI scheduled for Friday. I go back to see the PA next week. I have a referral for physical therapy that I need to follow up on. I'm healthy. I am not broken.
On Saturday, I took my cane out to the dumpster. I beat it up. The cane. I smashed it on the ground and smacked the dumpster with it. That cane can't be used by anyone anymore. It can't hold me back anymore. My cane has always been easily accessible, always in sight. It was a physical manifestation of my mental barrier. It was holding me back. I'm not 60. I'm less than halfway to 60.
Monday I went running. I worked out. Hard. I didn't think about what my back was going to feel like. I'm feeling it today because I haven't exercised like that in a long time, but I was free.
This connection between the mental trauma caused by my back and my mental illnesses has calmed even my greatest anxieties. If I knew to take care of my mental health like I did my physical health back then, maybe I'd have lived a different life over the last 9 years. Hopefully, I'll be able to look forward with this and help someone else learn the importance of caring for mental health. Not just during traumas.
I've been going through psychotherapy for the last year and a half. I've felt depressed and anxious for at least four years now and I used the traumatic birth of my daughter as an excuse to finally see a therapist. I experienced a lot of traumas in a few short years and the emotional toll has been hard. Let me list out my traumas:
--14 December 2010: Herniated 2 discs (L4-L5 & L5-S1)
--14 February 2012: Death of my dog, my best friend, Sarah
--30 March 2013: Return home from my mission
--1st week of July 2015: Car accident on the way to work
--Middle of March 2017: Bus accident on the way home from work
--2 February 2018: Near death after the birth of my daughter
--29 August 2019: Miscarriage of baby #2 at 6 weeks development
I'm anxious, depressed, and I have PTSD. Go figure. I've been taking medication for almost a year. I finally got a dog in July. Her name is Biscuit. She's a golden retriever, like Sarah. She's going to be my service animal once she passes the training classes.
My anxiety has really peaked in regards to spiritual matters. I've struggled with my testimony. I have always been able to pray to God, but reading the scriptures and attending church meetings has been difficult. Sometimes my anxiety attacks turn into panic attacks. I've had to avoid spiritual discussions.
Last week I had an epiphany. I made a connection between my mental illnesses. I was telling Evan about how I don't feel like I belong in our new ward and how much I miss our old ward. That developed into talking about my mission and then realizing that all my problems are derived from my back injury. Okay, not all the problems are derived from my back injury, but a lot of the anxiety and depression that I have are from it. It is the main cause of my PTSD.
When I herniated my discs, the first doctor to look at my MRI results told me that it looked like someone took a sledge hammer to a 60-year old back. I was devastated. Then, when I saw a neurosurgeon, she said that I just had herniated discs but that I couldn't live my life the way I had been. My physical therapist took the neurosurgeon's list and said to be careful, especially when bending over. I've been living my life with hesitance. I have not been living to the fullest. I have been holding myself back for fear of injury and permanent damage. I've never known if I healed or not. I always assumed that I haven't healed because I still have back and leg pain almost 9 years after the initial incident.
I went to an orthopedic surgeon's office on 12 September 2019. I asked for a reevaluation. They took an X-ray and ordered an MRI. The PA who saw me said it looks like the residual pain I have is from the lower disc (L5-S1) and that that disc is degenerating. She isn't positive because she can't see the disc itself, just the space between the vertebrae. I asked her about what I can and can't do. What are my risk levels. She told me that I can do whatever I want to do. It's been almost 9 years. I don't need to be holding myself back for anything other than normal limits. I can go run a marathon if I want to! (I hate running.) I have an MRI scheduled for Friday. I go back to see the PA next week. I have a referral for physical therapy that I need to follow up on. I'm healthy. I am not broken.
On Saturday, I took my cane out to the dumpster. I beat it up. The cane. I smashed it on the ground and smacked the dumpster with it. That cane can't be used by anyone anymore. It can't hold me back anymore. My cane has always been easily accessible, always in sight. It was a physical manifestation of my mental barrier. It was holding me back. I'm not 60. I'm less than halfway to 60.
Monday I went running. I worked out. Hard. I didn't think about what my back was going to feel like. I'm feeling it today because I haven't exercised like that in a long time, but I was free.
This connection between the mental trauma caused by my back and my mental illnesses has calmed even my greatest anxieties. If I knew to take care of my mental health like I did my physical health back then, maybe I'd have lived a different life over the last 9 years. Hopefully, I'll be able to look forward with this and help someone else learn the importance of caring for mental health. Not just during traumas.
Comments
Post a Comment