As survivors, we all try to encourage each other to keep going, to keep fighting in our healing journey and never give up. The process is long, painful, and in general can just be a royal pain in the butt to deal with day in and day out. By sticking together, we can help each other out and get through those dark days when things are painfully obvious that while we may be making progress, we still have a lot to learn and a long way to go.

I recently had just such one of those days, actually 2 straight days, to the extent that I feel like I two dozen steps backward in my recovery journey. It’s quite frustrating, and now that it’s behind me I knew I had to write about it while it’s still fresh in my mind. So frustrating in fact that I am sitting here writing this while playing some of my favorite metal music to fuel my passion for this post. For what it’s worth I listen to music quite often when I write, but not usually metal, that’s reserved for other times.

Sunday night I signed off twitter and said good night like I usually do, and crashed out with no idea of what was about to happen the next morning.

I wake up on Monday morning about 7am to get ready to take my cat to the vet to get spayed. After I finished getting ready and making sure she hadn’t run off and hid under the bed somewhere, I sat down to check the news and see what was going on in twitter land.  I logged in and was met with the notice that my account was locked due to suspicious activity.  Immediately I got that knot in my stomach, I’m sure you’ve had that feeling before. That uneasy feeling of impending doom.

I followed the notice and unlocked my account per the email the twitter gods had sent to me.  After doing so I logged back in and noticed all of my followers, and those that I follow, my lists, and favorites were all gone! Vanished into the dark of the night!  I immediately went into panic mode, anxiety shot through the roof and I had to sit down and stare at the screen for about 5 minutes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I got another auto email advising me that my account was unlocked and secured but it may take a few hours for everything to return to normal. I breathed a halfhearted sigh relief and figured things would be OK by lunch time. Still though I was desperately waiting for my statistics to return, but figured I should try to stay occupied in the meantime.  I dropped off the kitty at the vets and then came back and hoped beyond hope that things were back to normal already, after only 45 minutes.

While I did see the stats, followers, and likes return, I could not tweet, like, or follow anyone. I kept saying to myself, it will be fine, just give it time.

I gave it till noon on the dot and replied back to the open case asking for assistance.  The waiting game began. All throughout the day I watched and waited for an email to come in saying everything is fixed. I tried tweeting every 30 minutes or so, with no luck. In the mean time I was also doing research for alternate methods of getting my issue resolved on my own.

By dinner time there was no change and I was getting anxious that I would miss the weekly #NoMoreShame twitter chat that I enjoy participating in. I replied back again to the ticket, in hopes of a response from the powers that be, but yet again…nothing.

I ended up watching the video feed from the chat and felt so left out, even with the temporary account I made. Over 12 hours had gone by and I was beside myself to the point where I playing over scenario in my head of having to start over again with a new account. Rational mind and Wise mind were nowhere to be found, trust me! There were pushed aside by the power of emotional mind.

I fell asleep around 11:30 from exhaustion but figuring that I’d wake up to an email and things would be back to normal.

NOPE, no chance. I woke up to get ready for work, logged in and still nothing. Can’t communicate with the survivor community.  I immediately replied to the ticket again practically begging for help this time. I was not rude, mean, or inconsiderate in any of my responses, because that would just make things worse. Inside though I beside myself with anticipation and anxiety.

All through the work day I watched my email off and on for a reply, to no avail. I resorted to using the temporary account I made and asking twitter support for help. The first tweet little after 8am, and another around 1pm, no responses and the help timeline was like a ghost town of inactivity.  I began to worry again for a survivor chat tonight that was scheduled, but more so if I’d end up having to switch accounts and start over. Again, emotional mind in full bloom here!

I tried doing more research about how long it takes to get responses to support tickets, and virtually every article had nothing but negative things to say about people who had tickets open for days, weeks, months, with no resolution!

I arrived home and happened to notice some activity on the support timeline and immediate tweeted out again slow recovery is better than no recoveryasking for help, and finally after about 20 minutes of waiting I got the notification and email.  Everything was fixed!

An immediate anxiety drop and feeling of relief hit me like I hadn’t felt in a long time and I reached out to the survivor community to say hello and feel connected again.

Now, you might think that’s just the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard. I mean who would get this upset about online access being temporarily taken away. How bad is it when my life revolves around twitter this much that I have near panic attacks and lose track of myself for 2 days! Is my existence defined by followers? Am I that dependent on social media? Am I losing it?

I don’t think I want to face the answers to those questions, but what I do know is that in my recovery journey I’ve connected with so many amazing people and interact with them on a daily basis that it’s become a big part of my day and a reassuring feeling as I navigate the healing path. You all are very important to me, all of you! That’s what I missed and was worried about the most.

In closing, that experience was bad enough to be a total reality check that I don’t have my anxiety under control yet. I clearly have issues controlling emotional mind and trying to think rationally. Why couldn’t I just say, “they’ll get it fixed” let it go and go on about my life? Because my anxiety, dissociation, PTSD, and auto-pilot don’t allow me to do that.

Onward down this path I go, twisted and confusing as it may be at times. I cannot and will not give up. I just have to regain those two dozen steps I lost.