Apologies up front - I tend to be verbose at the best of times and
currently my thoughts aren't as focused as usual. I've got some actual
questions in this post, but also my brain just wants me to get some of
this out. Sorry if it's in the wrong foru...
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Apologies up front - I tend to be verbose at the best of times and
currently my thoughts aren't as focused as usual. I've got some actual
questions in this post, but also my brain just wants me to get some of
this out. Sorry if it's in the wrong forum too. Some background: I've
had depression and anxiety pretty solidly since I was 13, and now I'm
39. I've done various forms of therapy but have never been on
medication. It probably would have been worth pushing through my
avoidance of SSRIs (and other options) as I made the choice to
self-medicate with alcohol, cocaine, and methamphetamine for a number of
years. What can I say, the risk of erectile dysfunction just scares the
shit out of me. I've traced back the cause of a lot of my mental health
challenges to growing up in a remarkably emotionally unstable household,
also to being molested by a priest at 12 years old and not feeling like
it was safe or ok for me to talk about this.My dad is an alcoholic from
a broken home who tries his best but struggles with emotional
conversations. My mother (also an alcoholic, probably anorexic most of
her life) has never been officially diagnosed but demonstrates a lot of
the behavioral hallmarks of borderline personality disorder with
narcissistic tendencies.She was also molested by a family friend as a
child, hence why I never felt like it was safe or ok for me to talk. She
introduced my abuser to our house and celebrated his birthday with him
pretty warmly right before he died. I've always been worried the guilt
she felt would drive her from gaslighting us and threatening suicide to
actually doing it. Anyway, I guess I recently had a bit of a
breakthrough talking about the abuse with my older sister. In some ways
that's been good and has me feeling lighter, in others I feel totally
lost and adrift. I still feel really guilty about identifying it and
asking for help... a lot of people have had it way worse than me. I know
that comparing childhood trauma isn't supposed to be a contest, but I
still feel awful about asking for help. The apologies in the first
sentence were probably a dead giveaway, right? Since the conversation,
there's been a pervasive sense of feeling tired, overly emotional,
disconnected, and confused. I'm normally sharp and precise in my
thoughts and now I'm anything but. This make sense to anyone? Any
advice?
How do I talk to my doctor?
