The flashbacks triggered a nervous breakdown. In 2007 I was diagnosed with: complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; Severe Depression; Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; and Panic Attack/Anxiety Disorder. I shockingly gained 90 pounds and ballooned to 230 pounds.
I was unhealthy. Unfit. Obese. I became agoraphobic ("abnormal fear of being in a helpless embarrassing, or inescapable situation characterized esp. by avoidance of open or public places.") I didn't leave the house. To leave the house I was prone to anxiety attacks and at times full-blown panic attacks. I started to stutter. I could barely function. I became suicidal. I was declared "an invalid" by one specialist and given a lousy prognosis. Mentally and physically I was plummeting, FAST.
|Dressed & recovering yet still sad & slumped|
At my worst, my life was chunked down to 12 hour segments. My goal ..... to be alive in 12 hours. That's it. To heck with anything else like brushing my teeth, or combing my hair. My life was.... just be alive in 12 hours. Take the next breath and breathe. Just imagine what that must be like to be in that kind of despair, and the enormous impact on all of us. I cannot even begin to explain the magnitude of the darkness and stress.
My children, are the reason I am alive. As much as I was contemplating suicide, I kept thinking how crappy that would be for my kids to live the rest of their lives knowing their mom had committed suicide. So I took my next breath.
A pivotal moment. In one doctor's report I was declared "an invalid". I told my husband I have 2 incredible kids, an amazing husband, and a life to live. I refuse to accept that for myself. I vowed to overcome.