Morning

It's almost time for me to leave for my therapy appointment with the doctor who talks more than I do, but I had a few minutes after I got done getting ready and I needed to write.
I feel like things are bouncing a bit right now- better to worse- on a near-daily basis. I feel so much better, and, other days, I catch myself contemplating suicide more than is even vaguely rational. I'm tired of fighting, and I want a release. I think I can make it after I get out, now, and I have a few ideas I'm scared to put too much stock into, because I don't trust myself to see them through, but they are, potentially, good ideas.
Buffalo Boy has been incredibly supportive of my ideas, though my husband seems to be drowning in my issues right now. I asked him to take some initiative to try and learn more about what I'm dealing with because, frankly, I'm out of ideas for how to help him. I really feel like I'm just dragging him down as I'm trying to stay afloat. I guess drowning really is a good analogy for this.
We see his chaplain and an actual therapist for marriage counseling, I see my own one-on-one therapist, the doctor at the treatment clinic and am enrolled in an outpatient therapy program, yet he still seems to be struggling to understand any of it. I've written emails, given him the address to this blog (which he reads about once a month) and suggested books. I've asked him to do his own research, because I don't even know what parts of the picture he's missing right now. He's going to be busy with training and deployment preparations for a while, and, frankly, if we don't get on the same sheet of music by the time he deploys, I am not positive we'll make it through that deployment. I want this to work, but I'm so damn tired of fighting for everything I just don't know what will anymore.
Just trying to keep my head up for another week....

Talk

So, my husband spends a LOT of time at work lately.
He's been working for nearly two days straight, with about two hours early this morning at home. He finally came home this evening, and I tried my best to bring up what I'd learned about the BPD.
"Honey, do you know what borderline personality disorder is?"
"Yeah."
"How much do you know about it?"
"I mean, I've heard of it before."

....I didn't really know where to go from there. I gave up.
This man is my best friend, truly, but, it's frustrating to feel like you're talking to yourself sometimes. This isn't the first conversation that's fallen flat because his attention was elsewhere, but I personally feel like it's probably the most important. I just want to be able to tell him I know why I've been so crazy my whole life, I finally get it, and... I don't know. I know he would tell me it's great, and then he'd get distracted by something else, and I love him for who he is.
That sure doesn't mean he frustrates me any less, though.
He was tired today, he's going to help his friend move tomorrow, and Sunday we go bowling, and I'd REALLY like to go to church, finally.
And then it's Monday and back to the Monday-Friday only seeing each other long enough to figure out what we're doing for dinner and we don't even talk while we're eating anymore.
He knows I feel this way. I don't want to make him sound like a bad guy, he's not.
I just don't handle life well, I guess.

Anxiety

I'm still going to "check-in" groups twice a week.
It helps so much to talk to other people who are facing the same ignorance and dealing with the same struggles that I am. It's so hard going through this and not forgetting that I am not crazy.
More than anything, I want to feel like it's okay for me to be going through what I am, like this is just part of the healing process and nothing to be ashamed of.
But I don't.
I'm embarrassed to have PTSD. I'm embarrassed to have gotten myself into not one but TWO situations where I could be raped. I'm embarrassed that I can't control my anger or my tears more often than not. I'm embarrassed that I feel like everybody is a threat. I'm embarrassed that my boyfriend is carrying so much of our relationship right now, as I fall apart and find him taking care of me over and over and over again. I'm tired of being this way, and I don't for one second feel like it's okay to feel this way.
I woke up this morning with an elephant-size ball of anxiety sitting squarely on my chest. When my wonderful, amazing boyfriend tried to get too close to me physically, it got worse. I've never had flashbacks with him, and I rarely feel the need to close myself off from him. This morning, though, it was like he was the enemy. I had to get him away, even though I wanted nothing more than to feel loved. I had to hide my fear and anxiety and hurt, even though I wanted nothing more than to hear that it's okay to feel this way, and that the man I love so much understands.
I hate being stuck inside this ugly, angry, horrible shell.
I just want this all to go away. I don't want to be anxious about being around people anymore, and I don't want to wonder when I'll fall apart again. I don't want to worry about being in formations because I don't know if something will set me off while I'm surrounded by so many people. I don't want to worry about how much trouble I'll get in after I've had to walk away from a situation so I wouldn't lose control. This isn't who I want to be.
Last night, when I drove over to pick up my boyfriend from work, I had someone run up to the truck on the driver's side, to my open driver's side window, and scream at me to slow down. I was doing 10 mph in a 25 or 30 mph zone. It scared me and startled me so badly the one hand I had on the wheel at that particular moment jolted, and I caught myself just short of running the truck in his direction. I had been having a good day, and he set me on edge so badly I couldn't calm down completely for most of the evening.
I'm at work now, having chest pain and fighting tears and there's no specific reason that I can think of that I feel this way. I'm so frustrated.