204- In the grips of cPTSD (11 )

As always in trauma posts, trigger warning applies though not the most detailed in itself. 

Yesterday was a tough day. I was in the grips of my complex post-traumatic stress disorder ; despair and desperation grew. 
Before I tell you more, let me back track. My violent recurring nightmares already mentioned, returned to my nights this week - adding to the physical discomforts and thus making my sleep highly perturbed and subsequent days very slow. 

My battles with mental illness this week increased exponentially; I had daily massive impacts from my emetophobia and coprophobia, instead of more basic fights with them. Everything turned into epic proportions. 
Even my least mental illnesses, which is OCD and health anxieties spiked to unprecedented levels throughout the week, not helped by people being quite dirty in trams and buses.

Yesterday, all these battles combined forces with despair and desperation regarding my overall mental health as well as more general life conditions. I started fearing another mental breakdown and further worsening of my mental health. 
I hit a very low depression. 

My traumas were dancing in my head, having a party I wasn't inclined to attend - yet I fell into it,  trembling a good portion of the day and I felt extremely vulnerable, on the verge of tears.
My motivation and inspiration flew out of the window. I didn't know how I could get out of this day. 

I felt the absolute and renewed urge to go to civil registration's office in city hall, to attempt explaining to them once more the importance and need to withdraw my birth certificate off the public access, because a few years ago, my father had called them - finding out both about my legal name change as well as my marriage. He then found my wife's website and sent a message, disguised as one of my half-siblings. Yet, back then, I knew it was him. He has no courage and always hides behind others to try reaching me since his direct approaches have failed for some years. 

If you haven't read any of my previous entries, you'll have to read them. Basically, my father had created a religious cult, kidnapped and moved me to a whole different country where his reign of terror lasted for a decade and a half of my formative and teen years, during which I survived his physical and psychological abuse. 

After I came back to my home country, I recovered my birth last name, in a emergency procedure and city hall should have blocked public access to my birth certificate and information right then and there. 

Back then, I didn't even know these were public, so I didn't worry. Now, his various official proceedings to find me through government offices are now expiring - as well as the statute of limitations barring me from pressing charges against him for all that kidnapping and abuse of a minor. Now, he could initiate new ways to find me, and this had always scared me. 

This, and the fear that he'd just call city hall, find my address and either come or send someone to my door have been on the forefront of my my waking thoughts as well nightmares. 
I feared fear, and I feared that my paranoia would also grow into a fuller expression. 

Yesterday, was a hard day indeed. All these fears, and all these battles with mental illnesses had joined into one mass. I clung to Megan's Sunday posimh chat on Twitter, and the wonderful support there helped me recover partially from my trembling and later had a good discussion with my wife about all this. 

She reminded me that I had always been paranoid regarding my father but that I had to remember that I've faced all these fears before ; that I'd overcame them partially before and that I could do it again. 

She reminded me that my father is delusional and that by fearing him, his actions and his finding and hurting me again would mean to make his delusions real. 

She advised me to always keep in mind that I know the difference between fantasy and reality, and that if indeed our thoughts create our reality, not to let my thoughts of fear to control me and give my father the power that he imagines to have over me - because he'd be right in that moment. 

I need to remember that I'm a grown man, and that in spite of his delusions of power, he's actually powerless.  A man with no courage and devoid of intelligent, originality and personality. His constant manipulation and using people to his own ends are proof of these. 

I, on the other hand, survived him and kept my kindness, my knowledge and intelligence, giving me power.
I need to tap into these inner strengths and to know that even if he or someone did appear at our door, I can shut it, as well as windows - and if necessary, call the authorities if he/they became violent.

I am strong, I must be. Just like surviving his reign of terror, I can survive the damage he did to my brain and perceptions of danger causing all these mental illnesses. 

I will get better. I will recover. Because it's possible,  even if it doesn't mean full healing, at least I can become a lot more functional and grow. 

I will be reborn, like the Phoenix, I will rise out of my ashes, with passion for life and find my outlets.  (photo found on google & free to use). 

If you arrived to this end of post, thank you for having read it fully. You're a wonderfully patient reader and I thank you for that.