Christmas at the In Laws

Often I feel that my loss is mine alone.  It has been devastating for me.  The truth is my loss was devastating for my mother who was there when my beloved wife died.  It was devastating for my wife’s family who lost a daughter, a sister and a friend.  It was devastating for my son who lost a mother and a confidante.  They are touched by this tragedy just as I am.

The trouble is my brain was traumatized by the incident in Acheson which left me struggling to come to grips with things I cannot control.  I am a control freak.

I say again I am a control freak.  Everything must be just so.  Zabrina’s death was not a planned for event.  Zabrina has bipolar and we all knew that the medication was very hard on her body and her heart.  We had even talked about death but not like this and definitely not so young.

Her death traumatized my controlled life and I did not process it well or properly.  I just went on to the next item in the schedule; a very poor practice as I have done to learn.  I lost my way in work not realizing that I was truly losing my way.

When I got into the truck accident in Acheson, I was suddenly burdened with the real truth.  I could not control everything and never could.  I was plunged back into processing her death.  I was suddenly broken and alone.

Now this broken spirit has to go meet my extended family and son and try not to lose control again.  I am filled with joy at seeing them and dread at the feelings it will bring up.  I am afraid I will be setback again; back to that airport in Denver all alone.  I will never be able to accurately describe the sheer terror of standing there.  There are no words.

I am leaving now.  Wish me luck...

Merry Christmas 

Stan

Panic Attacks

I have had only a very small number of them; thank goodness.  I had one in November that left me crippled in fear of impending doom.  It still lingers to this day.  

Yesterday I met with my psychologist to discuss next steps in my care.  We talked openly about going to the dark places that terrorize my psyche and the tools to do so.  

I came home and explained the events of the session to my mother.  I went over to my house and was suddenly gripped with my third ever panic attack and the crippling fears that comes with these events.  I was soon sobbing on the bed screaming out that I had lost control again and that I was broken and so lost.  I was devastated and destroyed by the event.

I have not slept more than a few minutes throughout the night.  I am gripped by horrifying and irrational fears.  It terrifies me.  I have never been so lost.  I am barely holding it together.  

I pray each and every waking moment for a path back to control.  I have to find my way back.  I am only 51 years old.  

Help me, Lord!

Stan

Complicated Grief

There are several names for recognized grief disorders, including prolonged grief disorder and complicated grief disorder. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-V) most recently added prolonged (complicated) grief disorder as an official psychiatric diagnosis, according to the Los Angeles Times, giving people suffering from debilitating grief a name for the disorder.

Prolonged Grief Disorder

Prolonged grief disorder affects some people more frequently than others. According to a paper published in the Oncology Nursing Forum, people who suffer from prolonged grief disorder often have a family history of the disorder. Women tend to suffer from prolonged grief disorder more often than men, though some men have the disorder as well. Typically, prolonged grief disorder is diagnosed at around six months after the causal traumatic event. This study also showed that African Americans are 2.5 times more likely to have the disorder.

Complicated Grief Disorder

Though the new psychiatric name for complicated grief disorder has been changed to prolonged grief disorder, the concept of complicated grief is still very appropriate. Research conducted by the Columbia University School of Social Work estimates that nearly 10 percent of all bereaved people develop complicated grief. This type of grief occurs when the normal feelings of grief after a traumatic event don’t begin to fade. Those suffering from complicated grief are in the same type of emotional pain months after an event as they were the day the trauma occurred.
The above was taken from psychguides.com and serves to reflect my continued research into why I cannot move forward, why things continue to hold me back and why I continue to feel a deep sense of impending doom.  I remain hopeful that someone has figured this out.  
Unfortunately grief is a deeply personal experience and has left me filled with depression and anxiety.  I am terrified and sad all the time.  I am not sleeping well often waking up to tears or a feeling of impending doom.  Recent articles have indicated that chronicling those feelings might prove helpful so I have started this blog to try to come to grips with my feelings.
I have had multiple devastating panic attacks with little or no basis in fact and I cannot seem to move past them.  They haunt my everyday existence as reminders of things that could happen crippling my ability to focus on other things.  My mind is often consumed with the elements of those panic attacks even if the facts do not support them as actual events.  I wish I could move past them.  I sincerely do.
I see my psychologist tomorrow and will certainly discuss my mind’s inability to accept the emperical evidence as fact choosing instead to focus on the visions in the panic attack as factual.  
I deeply hope no one else has to endure this reality.  It is a terrible place to exist and to try to navigate.  If you are here, seek help.  This is a difficult place to exist.
Stan

A New Word: Catastrophizing

I learned a new word yesterday:  Catastrophizing.  When negative thoughts are taken to the worst possible outcome, this is called Catastophizing.  Apparently this is a common symptom of Generalized Anxiety Disorder or GAD.

I am now being treated with an anti anxiety medication designed to treat Generalized Anxiety Disorder.  This is described as anxiety that persists for more than 6 months.

Today marks that 14 month anniversary of the death of my wife; the worst day of my life.  Today, like most other days I woke up stuck fearing for the worst.  It is so stressful to wake up in fear.  I have been working on my breathing exercises, the very basic of things a human can control.  It helps but not for long.

“Catastrophic thinking might seem extreme, even silly. But before we know it a situation we’re concerned about becomes a full-blown worst-case scenario.” - a paraphrased quote from psychcentral.com

This is my life now living with a sense of impending doom.  I have taken to prayer as a consolation and I am grateful to have spirituality as a stronghold when my fears overcome my thoughts.  I have been reading everything I can to try to find a solution.

I am working with my psychologist to try techniques like capturing the negative thoughts, putting them in a box and then storing them in a stronghold.  He suggested a C Can.  It has not been strong enough so far.  Things leak out.  Negative thoughts leak out.

I have recently returned to journaling as a coping mechanism.  Writing has been a passion of mine.  I used to do it for recreation writing fan fiction and science fiction but my recent anxiety has robbed me of my creativity so this is now my outlet.

I pray everyday that my mind returns to a state of normalcy.  I beg for it.  I hope it will come.

One of the posts I read recently suggested picking a theme song for this point in your life...

I have chosen, “The Man I Used To Be” by K-Os.

I hope to find him one day.

Stan

Delayed Grief

Doing some reading today, I learned that 13% of persons who experience a traumatic event suffer delayed grief.  This is to say they show signs of initial coping only to relapse days or even months later.

I took on many new tasks after my wife passed away.  I took new projects and traveled more working long hours believing that filling the void in my life was coping.  I have come to learn that this was a tragic mistake because it catapulted me into delayed grief.  I am part of the 13%.  

One of the key problems with delayed grief is that the feelings that were not properly dealt with only amplify and when they boil to the surface they become far worse.  I am not in a good place.  I am struggling to keep my emotional center and live in constant fear that something else bad is going to happen.

I have tried countless resources and read incessantly trying to find a path out of the darkness.  My colleagues see the change in me and have expressed their worry and concern but unfortunately this journey is mine.  I wish my friends, family and colleagues could pull me out of this.  I am sure they do to.  

I see my Counsellor on Monday and will discuss my despair some more.  I really want to be well but the delayed grief or grief relapse really has me down.  I am terrified for my long term health. I am 51.  There is lots of life left to live.

I hope I get a chance to live a normal life.

Stan

The Feeling of Impending Doom

I saw my psychologist on Thursday.  We had a very interesting conversation about life, life events and their impact on the psyche.  When something horrible happens, your fight or flight mentality kicks in.  Adrenalin is produced at an alarming rate which is very closely followed by the production of noradrenaline.  This is designed to stop the adrenalin and prevent a heart attack.  After this, your body produces a drug called Cortisol.  Cortisol is designed to more slowly regulate you back to baseline stress levels.  It was a stimulating conversation.

I started talking about my history.  I told him that my son was born with some difficulties and was in the NICU for eleven days with the likely outcome being death.  He survived and is a wonderful twenty one year old today.  The trouble is a super traumatic event like this one raises the baseline stress level higher and your body begins to produce Cortisol at an even higher resting rate.

I told him that my lovely wife suffered a stroke in 2002.  She had to be transported to Edmonton by STARS air ambulance and once again, there was the impending belief that she was going to die.  Massive adrenaline and noradrenaline production followed by a heightened Cortisol response.  The baseline stress levels are increased.  The body wakes up fearing impending doom.  It has come to know it as a reality.

In 2004, my lovely wife was taken to Edmonton by ground ambulance suffering from a cardiac episode.  Once again, she nearly died.  Massive adrenaline and noradrenaline production followed by an increased level of Cortisol production once more.  The body is designed for survival.  At its core, it is a fight or flight machine.  The body has these experiences and suddenly establishes this as the norm.

In 2006, my beloved family suffered a total loss house fire.  I came home to find everything I worked my whole life to achieve burned in the fire.  Although insured, we did not have replacement value and ended up with a larger mortgage, significant credit card debt and a years worth of trauma as we worked through the chaos.  A year of heightened stress, heightened adrenalin, noradrenaline and cortisol production.  The body begins to believe that impending doom is not only possible but probable.  Doom is always just around the corner.

In 2008, the new house began to have heating issues. The boiler struggled with the hard water and would often quit leading to a significant freezing and a resultant huge bill.  Doom had returned.  Doom is everywhere.  The body begins to believe that it is inevitable that something bad in going to happen.

I could continue and have tried a couple of times both in personal journaling and on caring bridge, a blogger site but took the posts down. It is tough to replay these messages in my mind.  I am struggling with the fear of impending doom.  Repeating history only reminds me that it is a real possibility.

Zabrina and I were introduced to journaling (blogging) by the LifeMark Institute and used the technique to chronicle her struggles with bi-polar disorder.  I shared this with my psychologist on Thursday as he was curious about my stress history.  He was further intrigued to learn that amongst all this chaos, my wife had been dealing with bipolar disorder.  Another stressor that often ignited similar fight or flight responses.  I chose to fight for my marriage.  I loved her dearly.  When you cling to something so tightly, you form an emotional connection at a hormonal (not sexual but bonding) level that is tribal and permanent in nature.  I was bound to her in a way that I can never describe.

On October 18th, 2018, the greatest stressor of them all occurred.  My wife Zabrina had suffered a terminal heart attack at the tender age of 46.  I was in the airport in Denver on the way home from a business trip when I learned of the horror.  The adrenaline production was through the roof.  The resultant cortisol level has remain at an extreme level.  Impending doom is around every corner.  I had been to grief counselling and believed I was making progress towards a normal life.  I thought I was on the right path.

On October 18th, 2019, on the way to Edmonton for a meeting, I was re-ended by another driver (described in a previous post).  The trauma sent me right back to the Denver airport.  Hell was all around me again!  I was in my own personal hell.  Adrenaline and noradrenaline production was so heightened.  I was in tears as I reported the incident.  My life was over!  The cortisol levels, already heightened from a difficult path were suddenly starting every day believing that doom was coming.  I never understood this chemical fact until my psychologist explained it to me.  My body literally feels like something bad is going to happen all the time.  It is a terrible feeling.

November 8, 2019 was my 51st birthday.  It should be a positive event but for me it was the realization of a new reality.  I am alone and could be alone for the next 40 years.  It is a new sense of doom, wallowing in loneliness.  There is an impending doom around every corner.  I am terrified and terrorized by these feelings.

I have had two horrifying panic attacks since my birthday with a tremendous fear that another doom was about to occur.  I live in constant fear that something I do will cause another cascade event.  It is ever present.

I am surrounded by a good support group but even they are taxed by my struggles, one year after the event.  I prolonged my deep grief by trying to work more as a coping mechanism and am now paying a horrible price.  I am grieving a year late and my grief is amplified as a result.

I am working through this and want to thank everyone for their continued support.

Stan

Incident in Acheson

On October 18th, 2019, I was traveling to Edmonton and had to stop in Acheson for fuel in my company issued pick up truck. About to exit on the service road, the light turned yellow. Driving a company vehicle and terrified of getting a red light ticket, I stopped on the yellow. The vehicle following me expected me to run the yellow light. The driver was unable to stop and collided with the rear of my company issued pick up. I was terrified by the contact. I had been issued the pick up to complete my role in workplace safety and now I had been in a safety incident. Hardly the successful completion of the day’s activities, the pick up, a source of pride was dented on the bumper and tailgate. Devastated I reached out to my supervisor to report the incident not thinking that the incident had left me traumatized. The truck was dented and as I have come to learn; so was I.

You see, October 18th was the one year anniversary of the tragic passing of my best friend, confidante and spouse, Zabrina of a heart attack at the way too young age of 46. I was traveling home from the US on a work trip when I learned that my wife had passed away. I was in the Denver Airport with countless other people and yet I have never been so alone in all my life. I knew only 2 other people in the airport. They were work colleagues and were certainly consoling but it was a devastating day without anyone to console me on the flight from Denver to Edmonton. The darkness I felt on that trip home can never be described. The incident in Acheson sent me for a loop. I feared for my job. I feared that damaging the truck would be just another in a long string of devastating events. I was in a downward spiral. November 8, 2019 was my 51st birthday.

 Despite my best efforts, I had not been able to reboot my grief recovery after the incident in Acheson. I was back to that airport and that devastating loneliness and darkness. I was not in a good place when I went for supper with my parents. My birthday was not a positive event but rather an acknowledgment that I am probably going to face 40 more years alone. I was not able to move past her death. I was alone. I am alone.

 I have been struggling in recent days and weeks. I have reached out to a Counsellor and am engaging in my second visit on Thursday. I have terrifying anxiety when another vehicle is too close to me. I have driven more than half a million miles in my adult life. I have taken three driving techniques courses. I am a well trained driver. I was devastated by the incident in Acheson. It ruined my belief that I was an extremely careful driver. It is not driving that I fear. It is fear of being alone for 40 years. It has taken me time to realize what that means. The incident in Acheson was not a trigger of driving fears. The incident was a trigger that my life was changed forever on a October 18, 2018. I was given a horrifying physical reminder of the trauma of that day. The crash mirrored the crash in my personal life. Something external to my efforts, another driver or the devastating news that my wife had died had destroyed my world.

 For those who don’t know, GM and it’s parts workers were engaged in a contract dispute that left the workers on strike for 3 weeks and put parts on hold. The truck remains un-repaired. The dents are a constant reminder of that day. I see it every time I go out to head to work. It is a constant reminder of my broken psyche. I am dented and there is a hole in my life. I wash the truck religiously as if trying to repair the damage with water. You cannot repair anything by washing it; not your truck or your soul. Tomorrow I am going to my family doctor to discuss my high blood pressure and perhaps even an anti depressant to try to find my way back from the crippling events of two straight October 18ths; the darkest day... Hopefully I will hear this week that a bumper has come in to the local auto body shop. The truck can the be repaired. The reminder of that devastating day will somehow be hidden.

 I have been inspired by Fred Colby and the book Widower To Widower to try journaling. He too wrote describing his experiencing of grief after the death of his wife Theresa. I am hopeful that doing this will help me find closure in the death of my best friend, Zabrina. I miss her more than words can say.

 Stan