PTSD and a night in a mental ward.. maybe it'll improve my art

I wake up feeling nervous, I just do. Can't put my finger on it... May have to do with not knowing what comes next. But isn't that true at all times? You can never know. 
Brain scan and MRI this week....
I had a blackout episode last week... Lost 6 hrs of time... I'm a very coherent, rational person so this was a cage rattler and an embarrassment to say the least. Last thing I remember? Ringing the bell at my local police station... Asking for help because although I knew I drove there, I had no recollection or memory of how this came to be. I did not call my husband, did not even think or couldnt think more to the point.. and told the officer that I was unsure of self... So I ended up in a mental facility overnight (huh!? Me??) Felt more like a jail.. But coed. Me; Grad school: 4.0, public speaker, expert in my field, successful... well that night I learned all about panhandling, how to store crack and meth internally, lots of tips for being strung out and homeless.... fascinating but not required reading....  I instinctively stood by the office window most of the night so I was seen by attendants at all times and I was given a pad to lay on in the hallway since all beds were taken.... Wow... New experience.   Wasn't scared exactly, just knew I stood out a bit much... Not to mention all your clothes are removed and you are all there naked, save for a gown... Lets just say, I saw some parts of anatomy of people I'd rather not remember. Bad enough the obese guys on the beach wearing Speedos? Take the Speedo away... That was my evening....
I cannot explain this episode completely, and its possible there's something neurological and/or psychological of course.
But I've been through so much in my life and powered through. I've been thrown out of a moving vehicle by my ex husband , rolled into a ditch. Hitchiked in a bloody painful stupor to get help and get home.  Still persevered, stayed in school, got fantastic grades... No one ever knew... 
So why now the weirdness? I keep thinking... Is it because I am now labeled as someone with unmistakable PTSD?  Does the label create the trigger that says... Ok, now you can let go of handling and sustaining... Now you can just 'lose it'.  This is not me.. I'm tough, I endure and keep moving... I have a shot at a terrific new life... Ok, I'm not used to being loved and cared for... But is this what happens? You get a shot at a great life and only THEN the symptoms and vulnerabilities start to appear? Where is my thick skin that can look fear and abuse in the face and say.. Go ahead... Just do it... You won't break me.
I started painting this really intense work Ill post it soon.. It's in progress but its a telling, haunting work... But quite colorful and I believe I am going to like it when it finishes.  
Ok, I'll just keep trucking... I'll put my weirdness to the side for now and have my day. We all do this in one way or another I suppose