Thanks, Rohag. I went to the ER today and explained everything as best as I could, and they did up the bloodwork. They said everything came back normal, so I'm guessing it's all in my head. The one doc said she believed this was some kind of latent post traumatic stress disorder. After seeing all those horrific photos, I guess it brought it all back a little too close to home and broke me. So, next wednesday I have an appt. with a psychiatrist. The hospital originally wanted me to stay for 48 hours since I said that I did contemplate killing myself, but only while I'm in the grips of these episodes. After speaking with her, she decided that I wasn't actually suicidal, but I'm not allowed to be alone. As long as I keep my mind/hands busy, I think I'll be alright.

I never forgot the crap that happened to me all those years ago...I never tried to suppress it, at least not in a traditional sense. The best analogy I can give is I seperated myself from the many events, like watching it happen to someone else. Detachment worked great, until this past week. I can't seem to find how to seperate myself from it anymore.

Well, all I can do is wait and hope for the best and stay busy. They put me on Vistaril 50 mg/4 times a day. It's some kind of antihisthamine. (I sooo butchered that spelling, sorry!) All it's done was make me kind of groggy and slowed things down. I guess that's better than nothing. They decided to wait on antidepressants because of the heart issues, which I am more than fine with (although I'd rather have the sudden blackouts than the sudden freakouts, that's for sure!)

Still. Damn.