Anyone that thinks of the army PTSD always comes to mind, and how a lot of soldiers suffer from it after coming back from war. What a lot of people don't realize is that PTSD can happen in anyone. Post traumatic stress disorder-what is it? I remember learning about it when I was in school, but I really didn't quite understand it. After reading a lot of stories from other parents that have also lost children the same way that we lost Corbyn I realized that I have PTSD by what they talked about as happening to them and classifying it as PTSD or diagnosed with PTSD. After realizing that I had it I had to look it up. This is what I summed up from my findings. It's classified as an anxiety disorder. It is relived through intrusive, recurrent recollections, flashbacks, and nightmares. Anyone with a traumatic event occurring that they were in or witnessed can develop PTSD. I never thought that I would have PTSD after Corby passed. I don't just have it a little, either. It's especially worse when I'm tired or overly emotional. I have the kind of anxiety that cuts you, and shallows your breath. The kind that feels like no matter how hard you try you can't expand your chest enough to ever breath in a full breath.
The other day I was in the kitchen with by back turned and I heard someone behind me and when I turned around I saw Addy standing there in the entrance of the kitchen. I didn't see my Addy, though, I saw a lifeless dead version of Addy and it horrified me. She was pale-grey with purple lips and dark lifeless sunken in eyes. I couldn't help but gasp when I turned and first saw her and I immediately asked her if she was ok and went over to her. She kept looking at me and saying "I'm ok mama. What's wrong?" I had to close my eyes several times before I saw my real baby girl again. I started sobbing shortly after that because of how bad it terrified me. My adrenaline was so high I was shaking. That's been the worst of the experiences I have had so far. Usually I experience anxiety with my children sleeping. The weird part about how I saw her was that Corby didn't look anything like that when I found him. He still looked like he was sleeping. Just like a beautiful angel. Those of you that saw him at the funeral you would agree that he looked like he was just sleeping. He looked that same way when I found him.
Before I had Ledgyr, I would go in and check to see if Addy was still breathing while she was sleeping several times in a night. Every time I would go in the first time I would look at her I would see her dead. Now that I have Ledgyr I see him that same way too. I have anxiety the minute I make the decision that I'm going to check on them until I go in and actually check. Brock has asked me why I go in and check on them? Because if I don't then I will have worse anxiety and think the whole time that what if they are in there struggling to breath and if I would have just gone in to check on them I could have saved them. So I have to check on them. I have nightmares that I walk in to check on both of them and they are face down in their bed just like I found Corby. I dream about picking out caskets and colors of flowers for both of them now. I find myself planning out each of their funerals wondering what I would have at each of them while driving or when I'm left to my own thoughts. Then I catch myself and stop myself from continuing. Most people unintentionally day dream about beaches or other happy times. My grieving mind doesn't immediately go to happy day dreams. It's been traumatized and goes to what it's been used to for the past 542 days.
I even have a hard time at work. It's not as bad as it used to be, but I still have some days where I can't handle it. My office is right next to the phlebotomy area where they draw the children and there is no insulation between my office and that room so I hear everything as clear as day. I would have literal panic attacks when I would hear a toddler crying when they were getting their blood drawn, and I would have to leave my office usually sobbing or I would start shortly after. I finally asked the phlebotomy staff to let me know before they drew a baby or child so that I could leave my office and I wouldn't have to hear it. I talked to my grief counselor about this and she said that I needed to train myself to be OK with it. She told me to start out by staying in there for a few seconds until I couldn't stand it any longer and then leave and gradually work up to ignoring it completely. Most days I'm fine with it now. Every once in a while it still gets to me especially if there is a little boy crying that sounds similar to what Corby sounded like.
Lately, there have been a lot of deaths around me. I find myself in a constant panic attack. There is always this burning sensation that something is about to happen and I can't control it or stop it. Every time I hear of another death my mind goes back to our initial days after Corbyn passed away and I cry. I cry a lot. I hate seeing that there is still death happening around me. I hate that it is a constant thought on my mind. I even look at our dog now and get sad because I know that she isn't going to live forever rather than enjoy the time we do have with her.
PTSD will always be part of my life. I will always have anxiety of losing another child or even my husband. Just like I will always have my grief. It's almost like they go hand in hand. I used to think that this was me slowly going crazy. I had to have my counselor tell me several times that I am not going crazy and that this is all very normal. I hear that it's not as prominent as the years pass, but it will always be there. It's probably a way for my mind to steel itself to the next trauma that happens to me. Yes, I said next trauma. I don't believe that because I lost a child that I am free from having any other trauma or trial happen to me. Will I still try to control it in every way possible even though I did that with Corby and it didn't help? Yes, because that's what gives me the most comfort is feeling like I'm somewhat in control even though I know deep down that it is ultimately His plan. I know I should probably have more faith that Heavenly Father won't let that happen to me, but I don't. Not yet anyway. I had faith that my children would be safe..... Look where that got me. Yes, I am broken and grieving. Broken into so may pieces and in so many ways. Will I ever be completely whole and fully repaired? Probably not. Can I be mended? I'm sure I can. Mending anything takes time. Imagine shattering your favorite mug- you don't want to get rid of it because it's always something that you wanted part of your life. So what do you do? You carefully take each piece and glue it back together. It may take you several hours to mend your precious cup. After it's mended you see each and every crack still, but at least the mug is back together. That is what it's like for a parent that has lost a child. Their soul is like your mug. It gets shattered into tiny pieces, and piece by piece they pick them up and try to mend it back together. This takes years and years to mend. Not just a few hours. That's why getting over it is not easy or even really possible. What happens if that mug you love so dearly gets ever so slightly bumped? Because it's so fragile it will most likely break off a glued piece or shatter all over again. This too happens to us. We look whole and fixed on the outside, but even the slightest bump can break us all over again. We will NEVER be the same. I will never be the same. I wish more than anything that I could go back to my un-shattered whole self again that was innocently happy and oblivious to this sort of life and pain. Here I am, though, slowly mending myself and doing the best I can.
