Stroke

If y'all have seen any of my posts, you know some of my ups and downs. I know I haven't been as active, but that's because I've had a LOT of mental legwork to do. Ain't nothing wrong with taking care of your needs! So, I did 😊

Made a post on facebook this morning and thought maybe it might #help someone out there. Either way, posting this to look back on for myself isn't a bad thing either. With that being said, here is my post (also take note of the picture of me from 5 years ago to today. Just the difference in the smile is wild to me 💜:

BLANKET #triggerwarning :

I'm going to share a LOT in one post (especially for so very early 😅). It's going to get deep and it's going to get a bit long winded, but please stick with me and feel free to share. I'm making this public in hopes it might help someone, anyone, even if it's just my future self to remember. I'm also a pretty open book so feel free to ask questions of you'd like 💜 fr let's talk about it!

The "me" in the top photo is NOT the me I am today. Even looking at, to me at least, the difference is striking. If only I could have known just how far I'd be, just mentally, that I'd be, just to let me know I'd be more okay than I could have EVER hoped to be just 5 years later. At the time, 5 years would have felt like forever to the me who couldn't see past moment by moment.

To the me then:

Oh, how I wish I could have assured me that I'd one day have an ounce of love for myself. How the situations I was in wouldn't last forever and that sooner than later, I'd actually be happy with the life within me. That one day, the heavy cloud over my head would dissipate. That one day, all the "faking it till I make it" wouldn't have to be faked anymore. All of the med changes, mental hospital stays, moving, losing my tangible things, losing sight of myself, would one day bring me to actual peace, happiness, protection of my peace, understanding of self. I'd tell me then just how proud of me I am for doing anything and everything to be honest with my support system the best i could so that I could make it another minute, hour, day, because all of the just "surviving" the moment to moment would lead me to today. That, no matter how you quantify or measure the distance of a single step forward, that moving forward is still progress. I'd let me know that one day, I'd look at myself more kindness and love than I ever have and that one day I'd learn just ow valuable my peace is and how one day I'd actually take steps to protect it and that boundaries aren't as scary as I thought they once were.

Oh, little me, how I'd love to let you know so much. There's so much I wish I didn't go through, if for no other reason than because now I know that I made a lot of lessons a lot harder than they had to be. That one day I'd be writing a post about me with the kindness, understanding, and compassion that I've spent so long giving to others.

I think I would have laughed. I wouldn't have believed it. Even if I could have stood in front of myself like a mirror reflection come to life, the me who couldn't see a future, who thought I wouldn't be alive to have any of what I have now (mentally, physically or otherwise), wouldn't know what to do with the information I have today.

And that's okay.

Oh little me, I'm so proud that we lived to see another day. This day. Because it's all we ever wanted and hoped we could get to.

Bad days will come. Ups and downs happen, I know. However, may the me I am today never forget the me I was, lest I lose the raw appreciation for just how far I've came.

FOR ANYONE WHO MADE IT THIS FAR IN MY POST: please know, as long as there is breath within you. As long as you're here to see tomorrow, there's always hope for an even better day after. In spite of the hiccups, the unfortunate, the unforseen and unplanned, there is always room for a better tomorrow....but ya gotta be here for it to see it 💜 PLEASE NEVER BE AFRAID TO BE HONEST WITH YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM!!!!! THIS INCLUDES YOUR DR/THERAPIST/COUNSELOR!!! I used to be terrified to until I realized that you can not be involuntary committed unless you are actively planning to hurt yourself or someone else! Please, don't be so afraid that you don't get the help you know you may need.

-2x in a mental hospital voluntary committed
-years of therapy
-years of med changes till where I think we finally got it the closest to right I've EVER been
-dv/sa survivor
-"sewer slider" attempt/and ideation survivor

There is hope
Ya just have to be here to see all the hard leg work you've done, even if it does take years.

Remember, a painting up close seems chaotic. Every brush stroke looks imperfect and messy, but a step or so back, when you're actually able to look at the bigger picture more and more, I promise it's so beautiful and so very worth it. 💜

You're gonna wanna be here for this 💜

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW NEEDS HELP OR IS IN CRISIS:

The previous 988 Lifeline phone number (1-800-273-8255) will always remain available to people in emotional distress or crisis.

The 988 Lifeline’s network of over 200 crisis centers has been in operation since 2005 and has been proven to be effective. Trained crisis counselors listen, provide support, and connect callers to resources when appropriate.

Callers who follow the “press 1” prompt are connected to the Veterans Crisis Line. A Spanish Language line is available by pressing 2, and more than 240 languages are supported through a Tele-Interpreters service. Callers now also have the option of following a “press 3” prompt to be connected to a crisiS counselor specifically trained in supporting LGBTQI+ callers.

FOR MORE INFORMATION: The Lifeline and 988

#MentalHealth #BipolarDisorder #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #PTSD #Anxiety #Depression #SuicidalIdeation #SuicidalThoughts #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #Selfharm #Addiction #Loneliness

When I look into my dog's eyes, I see simplicity, honesty, perfection and love. Sadly, I cannot see that in adult human eyes but the glimmer exists in children's, before adults knock it out of them and they become the conniving, dishonest, frightened beings we recognise as neurotypical human beings.

We only have one dog left now - Jack the lad, Jack in the box, Jack of hearts. He is growing older and more arthritic with time. He is also imitating our last old dog Midge, which fought its way back from a stroke to full health (lopsided head, with left bias, to fully upright again) before succumbing to the inability to gain sustenance from any food, through suffering perpetual diarrhoea.

Holly, the old Labrador we had before her, was full of joy but they didn't get on. One night, shortly after we obtained Midge, she panicked, bumped into Holly and bit off part of her ear. After this incident Holly was badly shaken and within a short period of time developed diabetes.

Me and my wife's first pet together was Corrie. She had taken possession of her as a puppy and met me in her twilight years. She instantly recognised me as a fellow traveller through life and we got on well from that instant. If we hadn't got on well as my wife pointed, that would have been me out the door, not her. When she eventually passed away, we were both by her side. She looked from left to right, making sure we were both situated near her and died shortly after midnight.

We had looked after a friend's dog, when she went off on courses, at a period after this. Eventually she said that we might as well keep Ludi as she was with us more than her anyway. Shortly after this we also acquired Holly, although our original intention was to get only one new dog.

We got Holly from a friend of my wife's. We picked her because she picked us, coming straight up to me when we viewed the batch of puppies. On the way home, she started off on my lap, venturing up to my shoulders then onto the parcel shelf at the back of the car. The first few nights she slept on my head like a wig or under the covers with her rear end sticking out.

Her and that bed. She was only aggressive twice and that was when my wife tried to move her position. She was like a typewriter carriage. Every time you turned over in bed, she lumped up against your body in the new place, until eventually you found yourself on the edge or with the duvet totally off you. If you tried to move her, she growled in displeasure. My tactic was always to get out of bed and move to the other side but not Margaret's.

Ludi died of a haemorrhage when we lived in Thurso. She had run like the wind, chasing deer and rabbits. If we ever lost her, she never lost us. She would calmly turn up at our house house, while we were out, frantically searching for her, in the last place she was seen. She ate dead rabbits that were so mouldy, she would end up bringing them back up, ears and feet mostly. Finally she became so arthritic that she struggled to walk, let alone run.

Holly became ill when we moved to our present location. Years of injuries and general wear and tear, dragged her down. During her youth, she had run across the road and furniture lorry had hit her, dislocating one of her back legs. In her old age the joint became swollen and slowed down her pace. She developed bladder stones on top of this, which meant she had to go on a special diet. This necessitated me having to walk her round the village in the early hours of the morning as well, in an attempt to dislodge them enough, so that she could urinate but this didn't always work. Come the dawn though, she relaxed at the thought that she had survived another night and the liquid flowed out onto the carpet.

This was not the end of her woes though. She had diabetes which led to daily injections by me and her slowly going blind and deaf. I had to sleep downstairs for the last year of her life as she could no longer get up the stairs. When the vet came to put her to sleep, he wanted to give her the fatal injection in the kitchen but she dug her heels in. I told him it didn't matter as she had already messed on the carpet enough that we were going to have to replace it anyway, after she was gone. We also had Jack at that time and I shut him in the garage out of the way. He and Holly were best friends, so he took her departure very hard, howling in such a mournful way in the garage, I felt guilty about putting her down for years afterwards.

A few months before Holly developed diabetes, we acquired Midge. She didn't get on with Holly and shortly after we got her, she accidentally bumped into her in the middle of the night and bit off a piece of her ear. The vet turned it into a cauliflower, which meant all feeling left it. Another violent incident led to Midge ripping the dead ear from top to bottom, requiring the vet to staple it back together. Holly however was ecstatic as she had won the fight with her old adversary because she felt no pain, when Midge attacked her.

Midge was a severely traumatised dog and even after Holly died, she attacked Jack for no good reason. She was old when we got her and because of this it wasn't long before she too couldn't make the stairs. Once again I spent several months sleeping downstairs, while Jack went upstairs with my wife.

I was brought up with cats but my wife was allergic to them. My first cat when I lived at home, was a white haired kitten. It was accidentally killed when a draught from the back door, slammed the front door on it. My mother frantically rushed around the neighbours, trying to find a replacement before I came home. When I arrived back from school, apparently my first remark was "My, Whitey has grown since I left this morning!"

The next pet we had was a ginger cat. She gave birth to several kittens before dying. We kept her last three - a ginger tom, a white tom and a multi-coloured female. The ginger tom got shut in a neighbour's shed and was found dead a few days later. He had an ulcer on his neck that we treated with a green cream that the vet gave us. It shrunk down to the size of a sixpence but always flared up again. His brother succumbed to the same problem, when I was away at college. Male cats always get into fights, so it is not an uncommon for them to end up with this injury.

My father dug a grave for ginger and found a shoe box to act as a coffin. My brother painted a wooden headstone and I spent a night time vigil, kneeling by the place my pet was buried. I had bought an illustrated candle, which burnt down the inside and as it did this it illuminated the picture on the outside.

Visiting Norwich, a market trader talked me into buying a budgie. Unfortunately my mother got fed up with Spoot, splashing bird seed all over the carpet and so he was banished to the small room by the stairs, where he became neglected and sadly died. Yes, I felt guilty about this and still do.

The only other pets we had were goldfish, which we got when I was very young. I tried to bury them in the garden, to see if they could swim through the soil as well as they did in water. Luckily my mother caught me and saved them. She bought exotic fish that were kept in a tank. Eventually they all died from a fungal disease called white spot.

My Beautiful Wifeycritter, Cheri, has suffered a combination of Strokes. It began when I woke the morning of January 2nd, finding her on the Floor between the Bed and her Closet. We got her to the Hospital, against her wishes, because it was obvious she was no longer Herself!

The 1st Hospital would not listen to us about her Blood Gas and COPD Exacerbation that caused her to be place in a Chemically induced Coma, Twice before in a Local Hospital nearly a decade ago. We had to FIGHT them to even get the CT Scan and MRI done - Then once the MRI results came back they could no longer deny she had a STROKE - Not just ONE, but three and the most recent had hit her Right Parietal Lobe near the Prefrontal Cortex, and she lost her Cognitive Abilities and can no longer recall Passwords, phone numbers, addresses, etc.

Cheri is a former Regional Franchise Training Manager for Skipper's and Winner of numerous Awards for Excellence in her career, Former Owner of Ice Cream Store, Floral Shop, Etc. One of the most Intelligent women I have been with, and was a huge help to me, as I battle ADHD, Autism Spectrum, Borderline Personality, Dyslexia, and she helped me overcome my last bout of Suicidal Depression. She taught me how to use Audible and Podcasts to help me LEARN and navigate some major Learning Difficulties. And, in less than 6 months time, she has been reduced to a Childlike State of Mind. Her mentality ranges from about 6 or 7 yr old to young adult... (Earlier today she said she felt about 18).

All of this was compounded by the fact that we were living in substandard housing which had become overrun with Rats, and no help from the Management. Our home was in need of being condemned and was far below any Health Codes.. Our Daughter, Ashley moved us out of the Trailer while Wifey was in the first Hospital. We now have a very cute apartment in a very secure 55 and Older Bldg.

Cheri was moved to a Rehab Facility that only made her Delirium more pronounced. She declined Mentally while she was in care at that Facility and moved to another Hospital... They ran numerous tests on her that all came back INCONCLUSIVE, and she was finally released to come home, and we tried to establish care for her.

On 15 March, she was taken to Good Samaritan Hospital, where she has been since and had an extensive battery of tests HERE IS WHAT WE KNOW - She has Acute Metabolic Encephalopathy - Damage to her Right Parietal Lobe, near the Prefrontal Cortex resulting in Alzheimer's Like dementia... We STILL do not have the COPES Assessment done, to get her set up with IN HOME care... They wanted to Discharge her tonight, and we FOUGHT IT - Because NO ONE has trained us on how to Navigate her Dementia, or how to Redirect her when she is in some Delusional Reality and petting her purse and talking to it like a cat, or seeing and talking to people her daughter and I cannot see or hear...

I am reaching out for someone, anyone who can offer insight and help, because I am losing my Life Mate, a piece at a time... Every time she has a set back, a little LESS of her comes Home to me. I have times when I sit in the car, for an hour or more waiting for the TEARS to pass, after kissing her Goodnight at the Hospital...

If she has deteriorated this much in less than 4 months, will I even have another six months before she REQUIRES Assisted Living, (In which case, I will become Homeless, because I cannot make the RENT here ALONE), or worse case, she becomes incapacitated to Stroke, or Crippling Dementia??

I am looking for a Face to face Support Group, Locally, and I am going to request Weekly Counseling for MYSELF to be have Guidance and Direction and something or someone to Help ME...

This post may not be liked by some people because of triggers so i’m going to try to explain to you guys why iv reached out to my local provider to section 5 me.

Why on earth, i think many people would say to me on other networks, so why?

My husband of 20 years deserves to have his wife back,
My eldest child can come off annual leave and get stronger again so he can get back into work as my mania is chronic at the moment.
My middle child 27, is desperately trying to sleep for work and he can’t focus in work because im really bad late at night and just snap. He never interrupts but im ashamed and it’s affecting our relationship and his own mental health.

My third child is struggling because she absorbs all this pressure. She does intervene and it ends up even worse, that’s not fair to her.

When your child tells you they don’t remember who mum was and they want her back is soul destroying to hear, but painfully true.

Today may not be a good day, the past 9 months have blended into a complete crisis and cycle of panic, mania, anger, sometimes delusional thoughts i’m shouting them all over the house!

I’m tired, they tired and as a family we have decided that having a 28 day release from the house, will really help me, get me seen by the professionals i clearly need and my family will no longer have to take on this horrendous pressure.

I am waiting on a telephone call, it’s not going to happen overnight and it’s bank holiday weekend, as soon as i can get some help, we will all benefit.

I’m 53 my blood pressure is dangerously high and i am constantly worried about having a stroke, or something bad is going to happen.

#MentalHealth #BorderlinePersonalityDisorderBPD #SchizoaffectiveDisorder
#samaritansuk

I’m lucky i have my family to support me, sometimes that’s not possible for people, Samaritans are there night or day and all volunteer lead, would be my first port of call other than my family 🗣️💪✨

This is deeply effecting our Daughters family, as Well. Our Daughter is her Power of Attorney, now. Life has changed so much. Watching my wife go from being a well educated and successful business woman, who was widowed to a Decorated Retired Air Force, and former Spec Ops Pilot turned Firefighter Paramedic. He served with my best friend and are both, now inturred at Mount Tahoma National Cemetery. Now my Soulmate, and Partner in Crime, lol... has been reduced to a very scared and insecure, childlike mind and she cries and apologizes to me because she can't make sense of anything... This is so hard on me, psychologically. I am battling my Emotional Dysregulation, and Trauma Response to darn near everything now.
I am overwhelmed and have little choice than to accept what I must. My wife suffered a stroke to her left Prefrontal Cortex and is now battling Delirium and Dementia... I am losing the love of my life, a piece at a time... My Soul is shattered, there ain't much left of me. This hurts on levels that have only begun. I love her, and watching her suffer is wrecking me.
I miss you, Baby... but I'm right here trying to care for you. And still make sure I don't forget my own care too. Balance will take time. I am fighting for her now. Praying we can find recovery together. 🙏

My Soulmate... My Wifeycritter... has had another stroke, or something, couldnt get her to calm and rest, and when she got up about 430ish, from what should have been a nap; she went out the front door. No pants or shoes on and I got her before she reached neighbors door, and walked her back inside. She was very disoriented and I asked where she was going - She said she had to find a phone and call her "Joe." I hugged her and told her I was right there in front of her but she looked like she was having a Focal Seizure and wasn't being able to put the pieces together upstairs in her head... I called our Daughter and they came and got her but she continued to decline. She is back in the Hospital, tonight and it is painfully obvious that I am losing the Love of my Life, a piece at a time. I have been in tears all night, and cant sleep and cant manage to eat... My Soul is Shattered... We just got into a New apartment and I cannot maintain this without her... and my World is slowly collapsing around me...

I love you Baby... I hope some part of you knows I am here, praying and crying...

This is so wrong... and I have a whole week to go before I can talk to my Therapist... I am trying to be strong, but, I am terrified...