It’s 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday, I’m wide awake, and I’m ready to murder someone.
For the third morning in a row, my upstairs neighbor has woken me up with his music blaring right above my bedroom. Today it was 7:00 a.m.; yesterday it was 6:30, and the day before that, it was 3:15.
Bear in mind I’m literally half-deaf, so it has to be really loud to wake me up.
We’ve had a discussion with him and his housemate about it, just a few weeks ago. It stopped for all of about a week, and now it’s back full force. Being woken up by fucking 90’s soft rock music is really getting to me. Part of it’s that my sleep cycle is wonky again–I’m not going to bed until after 2:00 most days, so being woken up early really throws me off. But really, I’m angry about being forced to listen to someone else’s music EVER, and it’s happening on a daily basis.
I’ve really tried to understand. This neighbor hears voices and uses the music to drown them out. While I’ve never heard voices in the psychotic sense, I have used music to drown out the voices of alters when I couldn’t face acknowledging them. But I used some goddamn headphones out of respect for other people.
I want to go bang on this neighbor’s door and yell at him. Parts of me would just LOVE to do that, but I’m scared of him. I hear him yelling a lot–presumably just at his voices, but it scares me just the same. When I was a kid, yelling was a sure sign I was about to get hurt, whether it was physically or verbally. I know how to fight and how to defend myself, but the guy scares me anyway.
If I’m being honest here, pretty much everyone scares me, especially when they’ve got 4 inches and 50 lbs on me and yell a lot.
This morning, I did go as far as to bang on the ceiling with a broom handle, but that did nothing except leave black marks on my ceiling. I don’t think he even heard me.
So now it’s Saturday morning, and I’m awake and in PTSD hell. Just thinking about confronting him causes panic, and there are memories I can’t deal with lapping at the edge of my mind. I hate this SO much. I hate my brain, I hate having PTSD, I hate having all these memories I try to push away. It feels unbearable right now, and I’m all alone.
Housemate isn’t here, hasn’t been for most of the past 2 weeks despite the fact that she gets paid to live with me, but I wouldn’t trust her with any of this even if she were here. I could call someone from my team, but who? And what would I even say? “Hi, sorry to bother you on the weekend, but I’m having a PTSD meltdown because I’m sleep-deprived and scared?” I can’t even explain the meltdown so it makes sense to anyone outside of my head, and I am sitting here crying and panicking for reasons I can’t explain. I’d sound stupid, and I’m not going to bother people on the weekend because I’m stupid.
I want out. I want a new brain without trauma and PTSD. Just make it stop.