After I left the ambulance in the fall of 2013, I was in a tailspin.
I ended up in hospital for two separate admissions approaching six weeks in length, under the same doctor, who was also my treating doctor in the community. Through this point he still refused to give me a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
In his opinion, everything I was dealing with stemmed from my previous diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder.
I had a couple of admissions in 2014 as well, stemming from low mood, suicidal ideation and somewhat unstable thought patterns.
It wasn’t until one admission in hospital in 2015 that Lynn told me something needed to change, and that I needed to change doctors. She also said if I was unwilling, don’t bother coming home. So I found another doctor and was assessed by them in the fall of 2015.
The initial appointment was a longer 45 minute “get to know you” type of appointment. She asked me 15 minutes in why I had never been given a diagnosis of PTSD before. I said I didn’t know. She made some medication adjustments and sent me home with the new diagnosis.
I did research and things definitely started making more sense, but it wasn’t the end of the story.
In January 2016 I began an attempt on my life, for the first time in years.
My rational mind broke in and I stopped midway through, but I ended up with a gaping hole in my wrist, 5 stitches, and a couple weeks in hospital. It was this admission where things began to change.
To be continued