PTSD life – Part IIb – My PTSD

This is a continuation from Part IIa.

Flashbacks and memories

The flashbacks are the absolute pits. There is no warning. There is seemingly no trigger, but there are also triggers. The lack of predictability increases or causes the anxiety, which in turn feeds the depression. The toll these unwanted intrusion, disruption and emotional destruction the flashbacks take on me is unable to be measured.

Flashbacks happen, anywhere, anytime. There are roads I cant drive down at night time, because if I do, I see the bodies of people I treated there, in those places. They are not real, but I see them as real so they are real for me. I know they are not real, but for a split second, I see a tangible, real body, and it causes a massive adrenergic response….and anxiety. The fact that they are not tangible doesn’t take away from how truly horrifying and terrifying it can be for me. There are streets I cant drive down in the day time, for the same reason.

I can be in the middle of talking to someone and it can be just a word or phrase, a tilt of the head, an infliction on a word, and it will stir up another memory or worse, a flashback. I can be texting or msg’ing someone, and a phrase they write will bring back a memory of a suicide note I read, and then Ill have a flashback of one of the to-many suicides I attended. I see trees, with certain shaped branches and see people hanging from them. The same with balconies, stairs, high set houses. Its so unpredictable and so damn uncontrollable.

I can see a street name, or a car with an RIP sign on the back, or a set of flowers and memorial on the side of the road, and again, flashback. I live in the area I worked as a paramedic for 13 years, so driving around this area stirs lots of memories and brings flashbacks. There are a lot of those memorials around our city, that are placed for the people I attended, but couldn’t help or save, or could help and save.

Sometimes, there can be no trigger. It just happens, without warning. These are the worst.

Insomnia

Insomnia is the absolute pits. This is so intrusive and limiting on lifestyle. I struggle to fall asleep, and sometimes I’m so irrational and scared (anxious) I cant go to sleep because I feel I might not wake up again, and then sometimes I think that that would actually not be a bad thing, for me and everyone else around me. I hate the ‘irrational’ side of things, given that I am a complete control freak (Gift from the RAN).

On a good day, I average 4 hours solid sleep and cope really well with it. But on a bad day, I manage to shut my eyes and fitfully drift, not asleep, not awake, aware but not alert. Its horrible. And then there are the nights where sleep just doesn’t happen. At all. The nights I cant sleep are annoying. I used to read, in the days when I could concentrate for longer than 10 minutes, but I cant concentrate long enough to read anything of depth now. Thats a real pisser also. One of my favourite things to do was to read, so having lost that ability has been quite devastating.

Everybody knows somebody – helpful links

So that’s just a small insight into the complex that is my PTSD. I haven’t touched on the emotional toll so much, or the toll on personal and interpersonal relationships, or my ‘quirks’, yet. But I will.

Everyone knows someone with Depression, Anxiety, Mental Illness and chances are it is a loved one. When dealing with them, (us), if we actually tell you we are having a ‘rough/not so good’ day, just be there. Don’t try and intrude into our heads. Don’t try and analyse what it is making things ‘rough’. Don’t try and fix it, because you cant. Don’t tell me ‘you should try…..; etc, because I wont be able to comprehend it anyway. And don’t ask me, the very next day, ‘how are you today? Are you better now?’ – because that’s not how this shit works. Just be there. You dont need to talk – you just need to be there.

Black dog Institute

Beyond Blue

Lifeline

Open Arms (Defence Members, past and present and their families)

Phoenix Australia – Centre for post-traumatic mental health

SANE Australia

PTSD life – Part IIa – My PTSD

In my first post, I talked a bit about PTSD being an individual experience. It is. So for this post, I thought I would explain what MY PTSD looks like, but I’m not really sure how.

PTSD

The Black Dog Institute provides us with a ‘definition’ of what PTSD is. It doesn’t state that the symptoms each person suffers can be vastly different, but they are.

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a group of stress reactions that can develop after we witness a traumatic event, such as death, serious injury or sexual violence to ourselves or to others. PTSD can happen after we’ve been through one traumatic event, or after repeated exposure to trauma. Sometimes, PTSD can develop after hearing details about devastating and traumatic events many times, like the experience of some emergency workers. It’s important to seek help to manage PTSD. There are effective treatments for PTSD, and you can feel better.

Anxiety

Anxiety regularly manifests, for me, as self doubt mixed with fear, exacerbated by self doubt. Thats probably the best way I can describe it. It is also very unpredictable. I dont know when I’m going to get excessively anxious, or how bad it is going to get. It starts with pounding in my ears which is so loud it both blocks all extraneous noise and amplifies it at the same time, until there is a cacophony of noise thrashing around inside my head. It frightens me and makes my heart pound. I can feel my heart rate increase.

I can feel the palms of my hands become instantly wet, and also the backs of my knees. I’m acutely aware of the noise in my head. Over the cacophony of thrashing inside my head is the voice telling me how shitty everything is, and in a single second I can have a billion thoughts and conversations, play out a multitude of scenario’s and not be able to form any kind of reason or realism. Yet, everything seems so real. Its so confusing. It stops me doing simple things, like going to the markets, or going to the movies, or any number of normal, every day things. But sometimes I can go to the markets, I can go to the movies, I can do everyday things. Just depends on the day, time, people, place…..

Depression

Depression is rough. Its so damn rough. Its always lurking in my psyche. Its part of me and it doesn’t leave. Depression isn’t being ‘sad’. Its not something that ‘goes away’ for a day, its not something that I’m always aware of. For me, its a lack of emotion. Its a lack of being able to feel. Its also feeling like nothing is good, nothing can be good and when something is good, its not going to last. It is oppression and oppressive.

Each day is a battle and fight. It can be a struggle to get out of bed, and sometimes, taking care of basic hygiene is the most difficult and exhausting thing. Most of the time its easy enough to ‘look happy’, which helps other people.

Helpful links

Black dog Institute

Beyond Blue

Lifeline

Open Arms

Phoenix Australia – Centre for post-traumatic mental health

SANE Australia

I was done. Now, I’m just beginning.

It was rough…..

Its been a tough few months. The cause of my gastric bleeding was found on February 28, pretty much by accident, and surgically fixed the very next morning. It must have been a sign, because if there were no answers for me at that consult on February 28, I was checking out. I was done. I’d vomited blood, daily, since December 5. I was so very sick of feeling continually nauseous and lousy, yet trying to fake happiness and smile. I had decided that if there were no answers at that consult, it was my last day. I’d never been so physically unwell, for such a long time, and never been so defeated. I was done.

I am eternally grateful to the amazing team I had – my surgical, medical and gastro teams, the pathologists, radiologists, and my incredible psychologist – I wouldn’t have made it to February 28 without him.

My recovery, post surgery, was rapid. I sorted my life out. I’ve set some goals and made myself a bucket list – which I haven’t reduced to writing, but I will! And I’m being incredibly selfish – because my bucket list is all about me. I’m taking on my Navy-Sister’s mantra ‘My life, My way’ (Thanks for the inspo Mel, love you forever <3)

It was a month before I could exercise again, but I am back at CrossFit, with the most awesome bunch of folk one will ever meet. Ive been back at it now for a month and I’m sure its killing me?!! It’s not, but I really do love to complain about how much my body hurts! CrossFit keeps me going, its so damn good for my mental health and I hear from some of my CrossFit fam that it ticks the boxes for their mental health also. Shoutout to my CrossFit Fam at CrossFit 189 – the best bunch of people I know ❤

Onward and Upward

So I’m moving on. I’m moving up.

I’m doing things for me.

I did a course a few weeks ago on how to make beeswax wraps. It was lots of fun and I met some nice ladies. Ive found a wax supplier and am going to start making and selling beeswax wraps, beeswax candles and some therapeutic lip balm- not for the money, but for me. Because I want to. Because its a bucket list item.

I did a macro photography course today. Its the first photography course I’ve ever done and it was a lot of fun and really quite overwhelming. I learned just how much I don’t know! The facilitator was fantastic and was incredibly helpful with making photography work with my dodgy eye’s – I have bilateral strabismus on horizontal and vertical plains and was diagnosed about 5 years ago with Fuchs Dystrophy, so I cant judge distance AND am slowly losing my sight. Gotta love good genetics! Photos on my facebook page – here!!

Im going to do another photography course soon – a Wildlife photography course. Or an Astral course. Or probably both. Because I want to.

I’m loving my new workplace. My colleagues are hysterical and the fast pace keeps my mind occupied, mostly. And they accept me, PTSD and all.

I’m loving the cool weather and I love that my workplace is so flexible I can set different hours and train in the afternoon instead of the morning. Running at 0630 in the freezing cold is just not appealing….so I’m going at 1600 or 1700, depending on what I fancy. Because I can. Because I want to.

I’m going to write a bucket list and start ticking things off. Not a full-on wanky bucket list though, just a little bit wanky – and subject to change. I’m making goals and intend to kick goals. And I’m going to keep fighting my battles……and the bats in my belfry…..but those bats…..they get a blog of their own. Special buggers that they are….

Schnitzel & Spaetzle

Dearly Beloved and I were curled up on the couch, enjoying our quiet Saturday afternoon and watching the cooking channel. I really like that channel, although it is a bit dangerous.

The common theme, being October, was ‘Oktoberfest’ and German food. We saw the Hofbräuhaus am Platzl in Munich, stirring up memories of my European Christmas Vacation and consumption of a beer as big as my head. I was able to show dearly beloved where i hung my coats and where I sat and it has been added to the list of ‘where to visit in Europe’ for the trip we are planning together.

A few of the shows featured schnitzel and Spaetzle. So I thought I would give it a go? Why not? I dragged my butt off of the couch, and headed for the kitchen. I have supplied the nutritional details at the bottom of the post – for the health conscious folk among you!

We didn’t have any veal for the traditional schnitzel, so I used chicken thigh fillets. I cut them in half and bashed crap out of them with a wooden rolling pin. I don’t have a meat hammer, for safety reasons (anyone who knows me personally will understand why!!). On the shows, the meat was put through a roller, making it super thin.

I dipped it in a beaten egg, coated it in breadcrumbs and shallow fried it.

Half a thigh, bashed to within an inch of its life, with a fork so you can see how much I bashed it!

Spaetzle – German Egg Noodle

I didn’t try it when I was in Europe, and now I wish I had. They are made throughout Europe, and called different things, depending on which country – Kind of like Devon/Polony/Fritz here in Australia! I will try Spaetzle though, when I go back! It was so easy to make. Just a mix of plain flour, egg and a bit of milk, with consistency a little thicker than pancake batter.

I dont have a Spaetzle maker, so I improvised and used an old steamer pot and pushed the batter through with a spatula and my little tadpole drops of batter fell into the pot of boiling water, cooked in about 40 seconds and floated to the top. Amazing!

It worked well. I drained them, tossed them in a little melted butter in my cast iron pan, then mixed through some grated cheese, milk and ham. I put a bit more cheese on top and whacked it under the grill to brown. OH, MY, LAWDY.

My little tadpoles, floating to the surface!

In the pan with cheese, milk, ham and cracked black pepper

The finished products:

The finished product – nicely browned.

Schnitty and Spaetzle- delicious!

NUTRITIONAL INFORMATION

Carbohydrates: Too high to count

Fats: Don’t even go there.

Protein: Not to bad at all actually.

Food Type: Heavy, a bit stodgy, definitely comforting

Frequency: Without doubt a “sometimes” food.

Accompaniment: Could try a garlic bread if you like – why not boost the carbs and fat content to the moon, just for shiggles..??!!!

Drinks to have with it: Anything you damn well like, although the Germans are pretty fond of beer, so why not try a German Ale?

Enjoy!!

High Waist Shorts

I first started sewing at school. I was at St Mary’s, Carnarvon WA and remember my first sewing task being a pencil skirt. Our sewing teacher, Sr Assumpta, sadly didn’t have the patience of a saint, or maybe she did. Her continual berating us poor girls scared me for life. She frequently called me a messy heathen. I didn’t even know what a heathen was, but I did learn to sew. I can blind hem, by hand, better than Sr Assumpta herself now. Needless to say I stopped sewing when I left school.

After I had Jess, I got back in to sewing. I made her baptism gown, all white and puffy, with a baby pink tulle overlay, fake opals around the waist, flowers and all sorts of decorations. We still have it, 26 years down the track. When she started swimming, I also made her training togs. Loads and loads of them – from a pattern I drafted myself. I made her year 10 formal dress – a gorgeous black, white and red deal but I dont think she still have that one.

Ive made other bits and pieces of late. The world of YouTube has opened up a whole new interest for me. Ive drafted some patterns and made myself some skirts, some jarmie pants for Dearly Beloved, and a skirt for Jess. Last week she mentioned that she would like some more high waist shorts – and today I gave it a go. Perfect project fo a lazy Sunday and I was able to concentrate only just long enough to get them done.

The most difficult part of sewing for me is my poor eyesight which makes it difficult to thread needles and sew in a clean line….and my poor concentration span. Te hour that it took to make these was right on my limit so I’m really glad I got them done.

First step was to use Jess’ only pair of high waist shorts to draft a pattern from.

Fold down the front to trace the pattern

I traced the front of the shorts, added a seam allowance and snipped away. For the back, I traced the front pattern I drafted, but made the curve deeper and longer – to allow ‘butt-room’ then cut them out also. I measured a waist band to use as facing then laid the paper on the fabric to cut it out.

I got this gingham at an op shop for $1 for 4 metres. Its really thin and not great quality fabric, but I didn’t want to use ‘good’ fabric because given that this was my first attempt, I didn’t want to waste the good stuff. It was so thin I ended up cutting 4 front panels and 4 back panels so I could line the shorts and make them stronger.

I stitched the fronts together, along the crotch up to the front waist, then did the same with the back but basted from the base of where my zip was going to the waist. Then I stitched the front to the back at the side seams, stitched the crotch and that was pretty much it.

The zipper was a little more challenging. I put the waist lining in first and then had to try and manoeuvre the zip under the lining and stitch it in. It turned out ok though and next time I know how to do it better. A quick hem of the legs (by machine, thank you very much Sr Assumpta) and that was the machine sewing done.

I had some red love heart buttons in my button jar, so decided to whack them on and see how they looked. Im pretty pleased with the final product and will give them to Jess in the morning. Hopefully I will get a photo of her wearing them and be able to post it.

It took about an hour, including drafting the pattern, to finish these shorts. So quick and easy! And so very cute!

The finished product

Logan Life – ECCL Global Food Village

Global Food Village

Every Sunday in down town Woodridge, Croydon Road and an area outside the train station, normally dedicated to parking, is shut off and the local markets are set up. Woodridge gets such a bad rap, and not always undeserved, but these markets are a glittering gem in the rough that is the ‘ridge.

Fresh Produce

These markets are an absolute gem and when set up and in full swing, hide the depressing dirtiness, grime and abject council neglect that is the Woodridge shopping district. The stall holders arrive early, like, 2am early, and set up their awnings and tables, then laden them with the most amazingly fresh fruit, veggies, herbs and other delectable delights.

My first few visits to this market were a real eye-opener. It is a complete ‘league of nations’ and I probably wouldn’t be seen to be exaggerating in my guess that every nation is represented here. It gets a bit chaotic, a bit of pushing, people leaving their granny-carts in the middle of the walking area, groups stopping to chat and obstructing the access, but its still pretty cool.

Dad grew a lot of our produce when we were kids and actually living in a house (for a few formative years), so I love fresh veggies. I only discovered about three years ago that carrots came in a can! We didn’t have frozen veggies when growing up, only fresh, and as a result of that upbringing I dont like frozen veggies now. Other than frozen peas and occasionally corn, I cant eat them, they taste foul, watery and blech to me. I know that nutritionally they are supposedly ok, but biting into a soggy and once frozen carrot leaves a rotten taste in my mouth. I struggle with it. Coming to Logan and having all of this fresh produce at my fingertips, year round, is an absolute godsend to me.

The prices are amazing also. Its so cheap to eat healthy, fresh produce if you source from the local markets and much cheaper than shopping in supermarkets, without a doubt. The variety of fresh herbs on offer is fantastic. The bunches are massive and cost about $1 – and a fresh bunch will last the entire week, if you don’t eat it all first! The herb range isn’t as big as a supermarket but the markets offer other herbs and spices that you cant purchase in a supermarket – Tamarind, fresh picked, still in the pods, methi (fenugreek), curry leaves, Vietnamese mint, and an array of other herbs.

Some of the produce I had never seen before and being the curious (nosey) person I am, I worked myself a strategy. I would watch, out of the corner of my eye, for someone who was picking through the unknown product and ask what it was and how to cook it. Ive learned a lot this way. One African lady invited me to her house to teach me how to make a ‘proper’ curry dish using these little bitter berries and eggplants. It was an extended invitation and was not an empty offer – Ive seen her since, I don’t know her name, and she continues to ask me when I am coming to learn to cook properly! Next year, when I get back from Europe, I will go to her house and learn.

Hot Food Stalls

Outside the Woodridge train station, a section of road normally allocated to parking gets closed down and the hot food stalls are set up. The stall holders put up awnings and set up tables and chairs and it turns into a kind of ‘communal dining’ area. There is quite a variety on offer and even my pickiest friends have been able to find something that appeals to them. There are plenty of Thai stalls, Laos, Vietnamese, African, Kiwi and a few other’s, I’m not entirely sure where in the world they hail from. The smells are amazing and as I’m walking through the produce section of the markets, the salivation commences.

I love watching the stall holders cook. One of the stalls has massive wok’s set up and you can watch the owner cook her food, throwing in the different seasonings as she goes, no measuring spoons or cups, just a big long stirrer, turning out perfection each and every time. The hands of experience. Another stall sells soups – you pick the soup you want according to the picture and they dish it up out of these massive big vat kind of pots, then they throw in all of the seasonings and it is a gastronomical delight! And there is deep fried pork belly. This is just about the most amazing thing invented. Ever. Crispy, porky, fatty, delicious and definitely not an ‘every day food’!

Ive met some really interesting people here. I really dont like people that much, particularly if I am forced to be around them, but when it is my choice, I’m a bit social and struggle with the juxtaposition of my general dislike and disdain for people with my love of hearing the ‘story’ of people from far off lands. Ironically, when I chat with the refugee’s or immigrants, or descendants of, they all say the same things – how grateful they are to be in Australia, how much they love my country and how they now have opportunity for employment, education, health and in some cases, to actually be alive. The sense of the Logan community shines through. Prejudice and racism is left at the gate and a harmony exists that is echoed through the cacophony of languages and laughter.

Check the markets out. Its a great way to spend a Sunday morning, summer or winter. Oh, and the shops on the closed down street are often open – there are a few Asian and middle eastern grocery style shops – try the Afghani bread, it is out of this world! Be sure to take a walk into Krishna’s on Blackwood Rd, at the bottom end of the fresh produce section – this shop offers up an enormous selection of herbs, spices, cooking ingredients and utensils from India and the Middle East. Papa George’s right next door has a little cabinet at the cash register desk, filled with middle eastern sweets. They are delicious but will sit for a year on your ass!