FIGHTING THROUGH THE FOG

It has been quite a ride these last 3 years. I have trouble getting off the couch during the day or getting out of bed in the morning. I have serious neurological and cognitive deficits. I am fearful and anxious of almost everything these days. I´ve had a psychotic break in the midst as well. I have, to this point, been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD, and serious ADHD, among other things as of yet undiagnosed as it simply hasn´t gotten better. I have major executive dysfunction, working-memory loss, and a brain fog that endures throughout the day – every day. Balance and coordination issues. A cornucopia of a list that has seemingly grown by the month. It has put an immense strain on my family: destabilized my son´s well-being and put undue pressure on my marriage.

Through it all, my wife and son have been towers of strength, though at the expense of their own mental well-being at times. Unnecessary expense, but one I have admittedly had a lot of trouble minimizing in my limited capacity throughout this process. My parents as well have been more than very supportive and a small group of friends have checked-in quite frequently just to see how things are progressing. I admit to not having a lot of new information in that regard, unfortunately, but do feel blessed in the aspect of having a support staff that I can count on. I very truthfully would not have made it this far without the backing of my wife, especially, who has constantly pulled far more than her share of the workload and done so tirelessly – though we know there are limits to this kind of effort. They have been a – THE – major reason I have decided to keep fighting.

I admit to not being very talkative, whether because of the ongoing issues themselves or simply because I don´t have a lot to say after 3 years of this, or maybe (likely) a combination thereof. I also have a lot of unaddressed trauma that needs to be worked out through all this, likely where the PTSD comes into play. The alienation of my oldest child. Trauma from my past marriage. Drug overdoses and addiction. My own perceived failure to carve out a niche in my chosen industry and help out my family more than I have. Impactful incidents here in Costa Rica that have threatened to tear our family apart. Childhood issues. Violence and violence of mind. Things that have likely – but unbeknownst to me until very recently – desperately needed addressing. I need talk therapy and my plan is to do just that – to get it. But there´s simply something else that no one has, to this point, put their proverbial finger on. I´m just not sure what it is but with all the medication, a multitude of diagnoses, changes of habits, incorporating some alternative therpeutic methods, and a host of other seemingly trial-and-error ideas out of pure desperation, I still feel like there´s something else present.

That being said, I have at (many) times become anxious and nervous, not knowing where or to whom to turn next for even a minutiae of clarity throughout all this. We all continue to be hopeful but hope after 3 years is sometimes at a premium – one can get frustrated and borderline give up. I have at times thrown my hands in the air and just shaken my head, and I´d be lying if I said I haven´t gone through some very trying times where giving up permanently hasn´t crossed my mind. I cannot possibly explain what my last 3 years has been like and I don´t mean that in some profound “I´ve been through more than you” type manner, but a legit sentiment of “I simply don´t have any explanations”, nor can I begin to describe what I feel most days.

It has just been flat-out paralyzing, for lack of a better term, or maybe that term does, in fact, fit quite succinctly. Watching the people who most love you struggle to make-up for your inadequacies has been heart-breaking, especially knowing you can´t help in ways that could be far more impactful yet you simply don´t have the energy or the cohesion.

Anyways, next week I begin a new trek to find answers. It will take me away from my family for potentially a longer period of time than I would ever have imagined, which is, to put it bluntly, gut-wrenching. I will miss them. Tremendously. More than any words I write on this page could possibly explain. But I also realize that this current status-quo cannot endure. Something will eventually and inevitably give. And break. And I can´t allow that to happen, in whatever form it would potentially take. Sacrifices have to made at this point for the betterment of the overall situation and, after 3 long years, positive change needs to happen. It must. There are no alternatives left. I know I am about to undertake what is very likely the biggest battle of my entire life, and I have to be up for it. Somehow. Some way. I have to fight through the paralysis, anxiety, self-doubt, and severe lack of energy to “win” this. For myself and my family. For my life. Everything counts on it.

*This was not intended to be a whine or to draw attention. Nor was it meant as a cry for help and if no one reads this that will be just fine. It was just a piece of me. “Me” in its purest current form. Writing, I´m told, can be therapeutic and cathartic. And writers write. So I wrote. Honestly. All the while fighting through the fog.

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