Sick and Tired (Potential Trigger Warning at the End)

I have lost track of the number of hospitalizations I've had since November, okay well that's not true it's been about 6. I am pretty sure each one has made my PTSD except for the first 1. The first one made me realize how bad my dissociation has gotten. I spent 14 days dissociated and my friends told me I was having conversations I don't remember. That was after living with my childhood abuser for 4 or 5 months which I think brought up old trauma AND added to the trauma. I had reason to believe he'd be different because he stopped abusing my mom and our relationship was better, and the idea was to help me save money to graduate. Over the past couple of months my stress level has been out of control and I feel like I've been losing everything that is important to me, including support. I struggle on a weekly basis to get food, I can't afford my meds, or therapy. My therapist doesn't know enough of what is going on because there is too much stress in my life. Both my therapist and case manager are overwhelmed, so if they're overwhelmed how does anyone think that makes me feel? I told my parents I don't want to talk to them anymore because all they are willing to do is provide is tough love and even the therapist said that's the last thing I need. The things people say about me when I advocate for myself or ask for what I need is very hurtful. On my discharge from the trauma program they put that my diagnosis was BPD severe. In 23 hospitalizations I've never had the word severe associated with my BPD. I've always been pretty high functioning but that is deteriorating. I never identified too much with PTSD except for complex PTSD, but now I have the night mares and the flash backs that I never had before. At the hospital I hid under the table when someone was yelling and throwing stuff, and often times I feel like a 7 year old (that's the age of one of my biggest traumas). I don't think I completely switch to different alters because I'm still able to talk and tell people what I am feeling, but I know that I have certain parts that are trying to take over, so I guess from what I understand I'm co-conscious enough to have the feelings and the awareness most of the time. Though there have been times that I've acted in certain ways and I don't know why and people keep blaming me and telling me to take responsibility for my actions, and I do to the extent that I feel I am responsibile. I am not responsible for my trauma, and it is not my fault thatI have these issues, and it's not my fault it is gettting worse what is my responsibility is to keep advocating for myself to get the care and treatment I deserve, which is wearing me down and making it worse. I don't even want to go back to my home anymore because I don't want to risk losing my cousin and her daughter. My cousin has been my best friend since I was 2 and her daughter is what helps me cope with not having my dog. But I already got kicked out of there once because of my mental health and had no where to go. I had couches for overnight but no long term solutions.

What I learned at the hospital is that I am dealing with sensory overload that usually shows in the form of overwhelming anxiety and/or anger. One of the nurses also mentioned OCD tendancies and the doctor said I sounded like I was being paranoid. The things they say that are getting in the way come down to the symptoms of borderline personalitiy disorder that I don't know I am doing. I am on anxiety meds 3 times per day (I've never been scheduled anxiety meds, just PRN.) But in the hospital I had my 3 doses per day plus 2 PRNs because of my anxiety (and I don't ask for PRN unloess I am at a breaking point). I'm on a med for nightmares, I've never had nightmares before, and another med is messing with my thyroid so I have to take something for that. I went in on 3 morning meds and 2 night meds. Now I have 5 morning meds, and afternoon med, and 5 night meds.

I also realized that the reason people push me so hard and have so much respect for me and won't let me take a break when I say I need one is because I have pushed through so much in my life. I am strong and I realize this, and I wish I wasn't because it would be easier to get help. I had a story about my childhood that used to make me laugh, but now it makes me mad.

I was in Kindergarten (age 6) and my younger brother was 3 or 4. I came home from school and wanted a sandwhich but I don't know if I didn't know how to make one, or if there wasn't anything to make it with. But my dad drank until he passed out so my 4 year old brother was basically unattended until I came home. We knocked on all of the neighbors doors to ask for food and no one answered so we went searching for our mom. Ended up in the police station because an officer didn't think it was a good idea for a 4 year old and 6 year old to be looking for their mom. I used to laugh at that story but really it was not my responsibility to do that. My parents should have been home/awake and had lunch ready for us. I've been taking responsibility for things that weren't my fault since before that. I did everything I could to protect my younger brother. I remember late nights hiding in each others rooms or behind a wall while our parents faught. I don't remember my youngest brother at all until after they were adopted. My sister didn't get to be adopted with my brothers because my brother couldn't handle being around my sister because when my aunt took custody of me my brother was the one in charge of an infant (at the age of 4 or 5). The reason I got to grow up seeing them is because my oldest brother used to wake up in the night begging for me because I protected him so much. But every time I saw them and had to say goodbye it hurt like hell.

But because I always did my best and I always did more than expected of me people still have those expectations, and I don't have it in me anymore. I finally realized I am not responsible for the world. I am responsible for me. I am so triggered by everything, so afraid of every word I say. I learned how to survive by learning about the effects that child abuse has on people. That's how I learned to survive. And that's probably why none of my suicide attempts were successful, I realized that I never wanted to die, I just wanted the pain to stop. But now I feel like my life is ruined and I have no where to turn anymore.