Pulmonary Embolism

#SexualTrauma . I have recently suffered a pulmonary embolism, blood clots in my lungs. As part of the follow up I have to have a transvaginal scan. I know it’s important, but I am terrified about the memories, flashbacks, dissociation etc. My abuse started at the age of about 5 with things being pushed inside me before it escalated over time.

I have avoided smear tests and sex for a long time, even though I’m married, but the thought of this scan, of the position I will have to lie in and what they will push inside me is really scary.

I don’t have anyone one to come with me, I wouldn’t want anyone to be there while those parts of my body are exposed. I will probably be fine during it, but react when I get home, when I’m completely alone.

I also have bipolar disorder and can be prone to harming when distressed. I wondered about letting my psychiatrist know to see if he could just talk me through how to get through this, but he is difficult to get in touch with and I done have an appointment for another 2 months.

I wondered about writing it down and giving it to the radiographer person. I’m not sure I can find the words to say it out loud.

I would welcome any suggestions, it’s important that I do this and it could be the difference between life and death if I get another embolism.

Thank-you
#CPTSD #Bipolar2Disorder

I was able to manage to go for three years from early 2018 without wilfully hurting myself physically. I abstained and somehow managed to avoid succumbing to the urges to cut myself and hurt myself in general.
I promised my partner back then that I would not.

I went on to suffer a pulmonary embolism a few months later but get married to my partner a year later after a lot of melodrama from the families. Through the rough patches of marriage, the pandemic, major mood swings and self harm triggers right in front of me often (having to deal with my partner's) I managed to stay 'sober' so to speak.

Up until a few days ago when everything got to the point that I could not take it anymore. My family were being terrible to both my partner and myself, the amount of gaslighting could have blown up the house and it turned out that I was weaker than I thought.

I succumbed to the urge.

My mom kept drilling the point that my partner was bad for me, that we were molly coddling each other, that I do not have ADHD and should focus on doing my work efficiently, that and that the only reason I am still stuck depressed is because I say that I have depression and that I should just think positive.

I have never indulged in any substances and do not mean any disrespect to people who have had to grapple with substance abuse, but I really feel like an addict who has relapsed.

I did it once and then again and then again and I've been doing it since. I spoke to my therapist about it, they gave me some ideas to cope, I tried them, pushed them to their limits and then just started cutting again.
I had a suicidal episode the other night and despite formulating multiple plans on how to make all this stop I somehow managed to lock the knife in a drawer and exhaust myself crying on the floor.
I've been incapable of focusing on anything since.
My partner thankfully came and picked me up from my place the moment my therapist informed them of what happened that night.

I know I should be relieved that I'm away from home right now, but I feel hollow, I feel guilty for making a fuss and worrying them, I feel guilty for not being able to even sign-in to work since Wednesday, pretending that I was sick.

I'm just so exhausted. Part of me doesn't want to go on, but part of me doesn't want to die.

So I've been experiencing a tightness in my chest after carrying my groceries into my apartment or after having a shower. I mentioned this to my doctor and she sent me off to have blood tests. (I have had a pulmonary embolism or a blood clot near my lungs before, Dec 2018). Sure enough the tests showed evidence of clotting, only marginal though. So I was sent off to the Emergency Department of my local hospital w the blood test results. It took about six attempts and 40 minutes to find a vein for a cannula, btw. A comparative blood test was undertaken but there was no indication of blood clotting. Coincidentally I had a cardiology review at a larger hospital in Brisbane yesterday. (I have cardiomyopathy). My cardiologist isn't convinced by the diagnosis of angina that was given to me by the doctor at the Emergency Department last week. He hasn't ruled out a pulmonary embolism. So he's arranging a CT scan and a stress test on a treadmill. Meanwhile he's prescribed a spray in case I experience any more discomfort. Meanwhile I am back at the hospital in Brisbane on Thursday to see my oncologist for my quarterly review regarding me being in remission from non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Plus to have Rituximab intravenously.
Next Tuesday I'm back at my therapist's for my second session. It never stops, like a mechanical hamster on its' wheel

I have severe allergies. Cross pollination issue. Oral allergies issues. Recently since march i have been fighting for air. Covid test neg. pulmonary embolism negative, ekg normal. 2 chest xrays , A round of prednisone. No answer. Have to see a pulmonologist after the allergist and primary dr had no answers. Was treated like shit at a er claiming i had anxiety. I think i would know. I’m not anxious i know that feeling. It’s making my job hard ( i work in healthcare) i have EDS also. They think i May be allergic to exercise. Anything that raises my heart rate. Ugh. I’m super frustrated. It’s hard enough having chonic pain from Eds. I’m not crazy. I need answers. I need something to work out for me. I’m battling enough as it is. My son (12) was finally confirmed ASD. 12 years it took. A messed up body. CFS , EDS. I am doing what i can to go forward but this is really hard. Really disappointing. Ugh
#EDS #CFS #allergictolife #Undiagnosed

Trigger warning/trauma, mental health
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❤️
I have been looking for books about fibromyalgia. Written by people...who have fibromyalgia. That aren’t outdated, and aren’t propagating a diet or lifestyle cure. I have been writing poetry and essays all my life and my partner is telling me that this is a good time to bite the bullet and write a fucking memoir.

So here’s the deal.

I have survived a lot. Domestic and childhood abuse, neglect and trauma, an eating disorder, being orphaned due to drug addiction, multiple suicide attempts, poverty, homelessness, being wheelchair bound, multiple assaults of all shape and size and style, teenage pregnancy, multiple near-lethal infections that led to hospital stays and weeks or months of treatment, hyperemesis gavardium, pulmonary embolism, anemia... My love life has been a ball of chaos and awful and awesome... and now I am living with fibromyalgia and multiple mental health diagnosis as a queer, gender non conforming, intersectional feminist and UU pagan with a beautiful weird and queer family and lots of pets.

So. Yes, I’m a goddamn cheetah, as Glennon Doyle would say.

But would you read that? Is there a market for my brand of awesome? I want to talk about what my life looks like. What I’ve learned about healing from my trauma but not how to fix it for anyone else. What I wish I had known starting out with my kids, but am glad I didn’t because I fucked it up in such a way that they are just amazeballs.

I started something, just to test the waters and I can’t decide if I love it or hate it. But I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to hate the first 20 drafts, right?

I’m legitimately not trying to inflate my ego. But I think I need some people to push me one way or the other here, because the voice of doubt is loud these days... and I’m pretty sure the reason there aren’t enough books written by people with chronic illnesses is that we are too damn tired. #Trauma #Fibromyalgia #MentalHealth #memoir