I'm really grateful to have a day job which keeps my full attention occupied. That was one of the first thoughts I had earlier when I got home from work and found myself bursting out in tears within minutes. There truly is nothing which is more frightening to me than to be alone with my thoughts. Or more succinctly, the terror of having to confront the possible answers to the questions I fear the most.
I keep playing through the last conversation I had with the endocrinologist in my head, poking at it, analysing it to figure out how to interpret what has been said. I know that tomorrow's meeting is just about clearing up and synchronising on where I have been the past eleven years with which doctors.
Yet my PTSD does not care about that. I'm just feeling terribly upset and terrified. It feels just like those nightmares I sometimes have in which I am just living out my last day, knowing that come tomorrow, I will be executed. Knowing that it won't be anything like that, and likely should be one of the most wonderful days in my life as true progress will be made again does not help in the slightest. The feeling of absolute terror remains.
Hoping and knowing that yes, I will get help and answers tomorrow, as well as a real outlook on the end of this horrible nightmare which has now occupied every waking moment for more than two decades. Yet fearing that tomorrow the hope I have will be crushed again, to maybe never recover again.
Terrified of being hurt again, yet knowing that not asking for help also means to suffer.
Will you help me, please?