His Symptoms
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T
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he truth. It was good to hear. It all started
to make sense. I was putting it together as he let more and more of what he was
going through come out.
The nightmares. he had trouble sleeping because
as soon as he closed his eyes he saw his friend plummeting head first into the
cement floor. And once he did fall asleep, he would wake from the nightmares, his heart pounding.
The flashbacks. At any given moment images
flashed inside his head and that sinking feeling of his friend falling to his
death, reliving it over and over.
The fear. He lived in fear. Someone is going to
get hurt today. Someone might even die. He couldn't watch our granddaughters
when they were learning to walk. He'd scream, "Look,
look, I told you!" as he stormed out of the room. Unfortunately
he has missed quite a bit with his granddaughters because he can't watch.
I told him reeelllaaax. Kids are kids. They
will get cuts and bruises. It's a part of life. We can't stop them from
exploring the world and we don't want to stifle them in a padded
room. He still can't watch.
The anxiety. His heart races and pounds in his
chest. He feels like he is going insane. The anxiety makes him irritable. He
gets angry.
The outbursts. Because he is irritable
and anxious, he gets so angry and can't control it.
Avoidance. He avoids his triggers. He can't
talk to his co-worker anymore without breaking down. He couldn't go to work
because it was a trigger.
The guilt. He was torturing himself because he
felt so guilty. He was the supervisor. He should have protected his friend. It
should have been him instead.
I said, "okay, okay! I think you have post
traumatic disorder and you need to see the doctor."
It took a few weeks but eventually he did. This was
three years after the accident.
Prelude to a
Diagnosis
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y
husband was finally able to share with me the secrets he had been living with
all these years. It took a lot of convincing but he eventually
realized the road to recovery starts with our family doctor.
My
husband didn't have to wait long for an appointment. He was already seeing the
doctor regularly because of his injured arm (work accident were his arm was
caught in the press). Our doctor's unofficial diagnosis was PTSD
He referred my husband to a psychologist for
an assessment who confirmed the diagnosis.
So it is official. My husband was not going
crazy. He has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from witnessing the accident at
work.
The Diagnosis
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S
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omething
good came out of the visit with our family doctor. My husband was prescribed a
happy pill. Or two.
One
pill helps him go to sleep and sleep soundly. Plus it is a mood
stabiliser. That pill squashes the nightmares. No more restless nights. He
just zonks right out. Bang!
The other pill is the happy
pill. Hallelujah, it was a miracle!
Actually it didn't happen overnight or with the
first dose, but he did become less aggressive, angry, anxious. Like all the
"a" words?
Yes my family continued to be cautious. We
didn't want to set him off. But that's okay because that tense, twisted
expression on his face relaxed like a long deep sigh of relief. For us
all. Don't get me wrong, he still rages like a lunatic but not as easily or as
often. I have to say it is easier to ignore when it isn't a constant in our
lives.
I know he still suffers.
Logging you in...
Karen C. · 571 weeks ago
I have been diagnosed with PTSD for several traumatic things that I have experienced. I still have occasions of recurring symptoms, but for the most part, I am doing well. It is a horrible thing to experience for both the sufferer and the family and friends of the sufferer. I applaud you for enduring the frustration, fear, anger, and insecurity for all that time. You must really love your husband!
I wonder if you or he have had to deal with the stigma that being on psychiatric drugs can bring about. Personally, I get offended by the term "happy pills." It makes it sound like a drug that makes you high, or that one would take to squash the issue and paint on a happy face. I have actually had people ask if I buy my meds on the street! Psych meds, as you know, are not like that at all. They can be described as a tool to smooth out the extremes of symptoms. They help you to see the issue through the "fire" of emotions, not make you numb or high. I think if we are to make it easier for people to ask for help, we need to be mindful of the way we refer to treatments. There is enough uncertainty about getting on medication (especially if it takes awhile for the correct dosages and types of meds to be found) without being afraid of judgement that people not educated in the ins and outs of mental illness. I am sure you don't mean to offend, so I wanted to let you know about how some of us feel.
I have enjoyed reading your story so far. I helps to hear the other side of the situation. Sometimes PTSD feel like we are in it all alone. You are helping people know that, though very difficult, our families and friends suffer from it as well. As we find tools to cope, they will need tools also. And-- if we are lucky, our friends and family will stick with us and support us like you did for your husband. Thanks for sharing your story!
Karen C.