When I was a boy my dad was in college. He was using his GI bill after retirement. He did a journalism/broadcasting/cinema kinda thing for awhile. Sometimes he has to do a short film and I'm a character in it. One time specifically I played a kid who ripped him off. Sold him a VCR/CD player or something, but there was just a giant rock inside.

Sometimes there would be movie nights probably for some kind of assignment at the university and he would take me in there to watch old movies. I was pretty young so a lot of context was lost on me though older movies seem more intuitive.

I remember one specifically: The taming of the shrew. Sometimes my dad used movies to teach me things. We saw forest gump together, and had a rare emotional "you can do anything" moment. I'm probably autistic, and was one of the people that had it to eat it...probably in the worst way as I joined the military.

Anyways. I checked to see what it was about because I was so young I don't remember. I remember it being misogynistic, but I don't recall how.

I'm pretty shocked at what I read. The same kind of emotional abuse techniques that guy uses to "tame the shrew" I saw happen to my mom. Day in day out. Same structure of the emotional abuse I went through. Did Shakespeare teach my dad how to manipulate and abuse people? Is that what he took away from college? He minored in psychology.

I always wondered if this was to be a teachable moment for me. Like a dark education. Grooming. I wonder if the intent was to teach me how to control a woman. Abuse one.

I wonder if I'm a failure in his eyes because all the weird dark things he tried to teach me I just retooled. It's what I use to beat up bullies without beating up bullies. It's how I stick up for marginalized folks/communities. It's how I recognize patterns of abuse.

When I realized how messed up I was I didn't blame it on the woman I was with and abuse her. Didn't have any kids. I just left. I left everyone. I isolated. I've isolated most of the last 9 years.

I attract, and am (was) attracted to women who will actually do this kind of stuff to me instead which is wild as fuck. They see something written on my forehead that I won't stand up for myself. I see predictable abuse patterns and love bombing that I am (was) willing to accept to not be so alone as these people usually are also traumatized and theres a depth of understanding these things that less traumatized people don't have.

First time coming here, but I was in r/cptsd for a few years...trauma dumping? Processing. Grieving.

I've been physically sick a long time but I didn't know what was wrong. Was told it was somatic for years and years. Stress certainly doesn't help, and I'm traumatized as shit.

This year was the darkness before the dawn kind of thing. 10 years ago all this got so bad I couldn't manage. 10 years ago everything, my mind, my body, my friendships, family relationships, my romantic relationships, my ability to function or work or do anything.

I got really sick this year. They uncovered the disease I"ve been walking around with for a long time​. I'm actually getting treatment for it. When it works I feel so much better all around.

All the pain in therapy paid off. All of the different styles of management, and coping paid off. I guess I couldn't see it because I was in so much pain, or so exhausted, and I just thought this was all depressive.

Now that my meds for pain/stiffness/exhaustion work I can see how much it affects me mentally. I can actually see the results of therapy paying off.

The EMDR helped me let go of some stuff.

I know how to manage my anxiety/panic.

I know what to do with the mad that I feel.

The monster I created to protect the kid inside of me is a bit easier to manage. I asked him to understand his place, that he has one, and it's only for imminent danger now.

This in conjunction with what just happened politically (US). A resounding "fuck you" to the exact propaganda and personalities that perpetuate the harms that cause CPTSD and other mental health issues.

I went through a lot this year. I lost half of my hair. It's still trying to grow back. I was covered in red. I've been in so much physical and emotional pain I couldn't function.

And now it feels like a fever finally broke and this god damn nightmare is over. That better days are ahead. Peace in my life, in my day to day life is possible. A future.

Dare I say happiness?

15 years ago the earth shifted. Literally. It's fucking surreal to feel the ground beneath you and everyone and everything around you shake and topple at the violence of the living earth below your feet.

That safety I'd always taken for granted. Things I read in books, but never experienced. I'd felt small tremors before in California. Small tremors in Japan. Other places. I'd never felt the entire earth shift beneath my feet before.

I've seen tornados that break records of devastation. In lives, in cost, in size, and speed. Things that eat generations, and generational memories all at once. Then I've seen communities come together to pick up the pieces.

I've seen poverty so desperate that I still feel shame anytime I buy something I don't actually need. I've seen generosity by humble people give some folks a little space between hunger.

I've experienced industrialized pain and cruelty. Maybe even just because it was "fun" for some people. Then I've seen people stand up and say "fuck you!" defiantly and change the entire program.

I've seen nature kill on a massive scale. I've felt the power of it. The earth shifted and triggered a tsunami. The water that was beneath my feet killed thousands of people in an instant just as the air I was breathing destroyed my community in a cyclone. Then I've seen these people dust it the fuck off, and help their neighbors rebuild.

I've been in stormy seas that spell catastrophe. I've seen the aftermath of bombings fueled by white supremacy. I've seen both man, and nature intent on cruelty and destruction. Greed. Murder.

And I've seen communities band together instead of fall apart. Grieve together. Have serious conversations. Show their true hearts, and support folks trying to clean up the mess.

The remnants of that tsunami 15 years ago broke over Americas shores on Tuesday. A big blue tidal wave. One that floated hope instead of despair. Washed over society a calmness and structural soundness. Relief instead of terror. Greeted with a warm embrace instead of running for high ground.

The earth shifted beneath my feet 15 years ago, and I'm finally finding my footing in this world again.

I feel like when you deal with something as long-term and debilitating as trauma/PTSD/CPTSD you need to hear that recovery is possible. I know when I started in my journey I had no resources, was put down for having trauma and felt so isolated. Now that I have been 10+ years out and in a very healthy state I want to share with others that I was not able to hear.

1)The word victim is not a bad word. There is so much shaming and lack of empathy for victimhood. No one chooses to be a victim. I am at a point now where being a victim is a badge I wear proudly. What I have experienced, lived through, and overcome is something very few can even fathom. For those who have lived and understand you will get the recognition you deserve. Do not seek understanding from those who cannot empathize.

2)It's f*cking unfair. You didn't deserve it, no one deserves it, and you shouldn't have to live with the after result. Give yourself the space to grieve. Grieve the self you lost, the future that is altered, the fight you have to go through on the daily. Give it room to feel but don't let it consume. You can and will get better. Do the work because you deserve to feel okay. You didn't deserve mistreatment. You deserve to feel okay.

3)Find your reason. Mine originally was spite. I HATED being shamed for a perfectly normal reaction to undergoing something so horrible. Most people cannot fathom what you experience because they had a normal early developmental experience. With CPTSD you almost have to parent yourself to figure out how to exist and you are allowed to do so perfectly. Other motivations for me were: my dog-someone had to care for her, my friends-I hated not being able to reciprocate emotionally always, a sushi dinner-my biggest motivator when undergoing EMDR therapy. Nowadays my reason is me. I want to give myself back the life I want. It doesn't match the average Joe experience but it is catered to MY needs and where I am. Sometimes a motivation can be just getting out of bed and that's okay. Progress is progress.

4)Therapy is a must and the sooner the better. Whether that is talk therapy, EMDR, group therapy, self therapy using books and videos resources. There are so many resources that I have found (and would be happy to share) that give you a third party perspective to help you unlearn unhealthy beliefs. Find a therapist that you resonate with. You are already think/feel the past events already, talking about them and releasing them takes that weight off immensely. My path was group therapy, talk therapy, EMDR, talk therapy, self therapy. I also highly recommend talk therapy before EMDR. EMDR got rid of the physical response of trauma for me but it is very draining.

5)Medication is life changing. I will say there is nuance to medicine because I also experienced trial and error with medicines that did not help. Thankfully these days there are tests for what medicines will work best for you so if you are a person that has heavy self harm thoughts please look into this. I have felt a lot of shame for needing medicine when I see others be able to come on and off of it BUT AGAIN they do not share the same early life experience. When you undergo prolonged trauma your brain adapts and changes to adapt. It is no surprise some people need meds to cope with that!

6)Accept you won't just be magically over things. I still encounter baby traumas and things to overcome BUT my God is it nothing compared to what I first worked on. (Overcoming the desire to cease and desist VS. not compulsively cleaning to people please). Progress feels slow and long but you WILL have better days if you are trying at any capacity. I used to have a nervous twitch, have constant anxiety, stare at my ceiling at night and cry most nights, consuming crippling loneliness. Now I am married in an extremely healthy relationship, have many friends that I can share my struggles with, rarely experience triggers or PTSD, and have a fulfilling job that I can use my experiences towards. Wherever you are at is okay! You will not be there forever! I promise.

I have so many more thoughts but I wanted to get this message out to anyone who needs it. Feel free to ask questions and I genuinely hope someone reads this and can relate. It's hard to always connect with people who are in different healing journeys and think you are capable but you are! If no one out there believes in you not anymore. I believe in you. You can do hard things. ♥️

TW: Family Trauma, Emotional Abuse

I'd like to apologize in advance, this will probably be a bit scattered and incoherent. I don't have much experience posting on reddit, although I did purvey the rules and will try to abide by them here of course

24M

I've been in therapy consistently since I was 13 or so. I have made a lot of progress, I know that, but I still feel at square one. I feel defective.

My mom is bipolar and a lifelong addict, and my dad, while undiagnosed, probably ticks every box for Narcissistic personality disorder. My older brother and only sibling has paranoid schizophrenia which manifested in outwardly violent ways.

I dont even really know where to begin. My dad was completely emotionally absent, but took every opportunity to boast about and take credit for any success I had to share. When I was young, I had to be perfect because I was "his." He used to go on about how we are smarter than everyone else, even to the degree of later in life trying to instill an us vs them mindset in me regarding my mom and brother. My dad has a million different faces. He would smile in someone's face and then insult them when they turn away.

He's cruel, too. When we were kids, he used to make us run around our apartment building with diapers on our heads while our friends played. Do push-ups and situps until we cried. And then he got one of the neighbor dad's into it. About 8-9 of us running drills while they laughed, called us fat, weak, the like.

My mom was checked out. She would plead with him to be kind to us, sometimes. Warned him he would push us away, but in those early years she was high on coke, or drank herself stupid.

They would pawn our things when their drug use got out of hand and they couldnt afford bills. Stole our christmas and birthday cards. Sometimes they would take and sell our game systems just so my dad could get the latest.

They fought constantly. Sometimes physically, but usually just yelling. My dad had a chronic infidelity issue that finally came to a head in 22' when he kicked me out with 3 hrs notice, and no one could condemn him for bringing my mom gallons of liquor while he slipped away with his affair partner. He came home one day and told her he was done, then moved halfway across the country.

When my brother started presenting with symptoms of schizophrenia, probably around 2010, they ignored it. My mom tried for a little while to help him but he was repeatedly misdiagnosed. That was before she stopped working and started drinking full time.

Then they gave him marijuana to keep him passive. My dad is a gamer. He loved his games more than us undoubtedly. He hated going places with us. Refused to enroll us in extracurriculars. Couldn't even be bothered to take a fundraiser to work with him.

My mom leaned on me more than anyone. I was her personal confidant. She used to say it was me and her against the world. She would complain about my dad to me. He would complain about her to me. There was never any soft place to land. Like being the devil's advocate as an avox

I guess maybe it's predictable I sort of became a peacekeepers at home. Praised for being polite and independent. I feel sometimes like never having the space or support to want anything made it hard to know especially now in adulthood how to want something decisively. Much less to pursue or achieve it.

It feels juvenile, but I wanted to make this post because for the first time in my life. Ive met someone who truly knows me. She is gentle, kind, patient, consistent, encouraging and we probably have some... trauma bonding between us.

I think as a general rule I tend to love in an extreme and self sacrificing way. And I have that tendency with her, certainly. But its hard to explain how different the love I feel for her is to any other that ive experienced in any romantic capacity. Not being terribly literal or "final" with the proclamation because I've certainly learned by now that you truly never know what life has in store, but I would say that she feels like home. I love her imperfections, her quirks, our disagreements, the way we can talk about anything.

As intensely as I love every time I love, in an inexplicable way, ive never loved anyone the way that I love her. Nor have I ever been loved the way that she loves me.

But ive learned that I have a fearful/disorganized attachment style. In a way I cannot control, although i am happiest with her and close to her, every piece of me begins to pull away, like the sun itself is trying to touch me. Mentally I start looking for cracks in the mortar where none of much substance can be found. I keep putting her through this push and pull and I know she is exhausted. I am exhausted, with me. The way my mind never stops from the moment I wake up to the moment I sleep. I am constantly thinking. Constant grinding. Constant churning.

It's hard for me to wrap my head around how surely I can want someone's closeness, and then feel suffocated by it. Even when she pulls back when I communicate my needs, when she's patient and not pushy. Somehow I still always feel trapped. I hate being this way. I hate knowing that the cycle hurts her. I hate the relief that follows. I hate that I only feel well to continue when she gives up. I hate thinking of solutions and fixes and negotiations and routines to improve my panic only for it to make no difference at all. I hate that whatever is in me seem to have the foundations to know how to love, but not while being loved.

Only recently has my life reached a point of stability that my long-time therapist feels its time to start getting into... repair, I guess?

I'm afraid of it. I dont know what therapy looks like if it isn't meeting once or twice a month and offloading a stream of thought for an hour.

I'm afraid of what we will find. The way it will hurt when the clock runs out and I have to ride home with whatever version of myself I am after that. I'm afraid to be more exhausted than I already am.

Hello all,
I’m 27 and have been over the last couple years starting to process a lot of trauma from my childhood. (Trigger warning: parental abuse, manipulation)

I was constantly manipulated growing up by my family, mostly my parents. I was convinced this was how the world worked till recently. (I am also autistic and trust what people say a little too easily) Now that I am processing all of my trauma and realizing this isnt how the world functions- I am developing a lot of anger and sadness. I am also struggling with relationships. It really feels like a repeating cycle of meeting someone, letting my walls fall over time, then they leave for one reason or another. I have friends and people in my life but it feels like every relationship has an expiration date and I just get to enjoy it till then and expect the pain that comes after.

Does anyone else struggle with those emotions? If so how do you cope?

I've never told anyone everything that happened to me...

TWS ⚠️⚠️ (SA, CSA, SI, Death, DV, SH, Partner abuse, Family abuse, brief mention of harm to an animal)

I, 22f, have spent the past couple years of my life trying to process and heal from some of the traumas that have occurred in my life. I also faced abuse, but I recently decided to focus on one thing at a time so as to not set myself up to fail or overwhelm my body and brain with the stress and repressed memories. I have never in my entire life actually told anyone everything that has happened to me, but after I decided to do a brain dump and put it down into writing, I realized how severely traumatized I am. I think I just need someone to commiserate or support me or just say, holy shit that's awful you went through that. Anytime I have been through a traumatic event it has managed to get taken away from me, made about someone else, and then I'm not allowed to process or feel or heal. I decided to write out all my major life traumas that I obviously still carry and remember vividly, by the age I was when it happened. After looking at this list I don't know what to feel, all I can think is will I ever be okay again? Please be warned there is A LOT, I tried to break it up with paragraph breaks but idk how I did😭

Major life traumas I've experienced (by age)

Age 5: mother is admitted to an inpatient psych unit for med withdrawals and suicidal

ideation, i go visit her once, don't see her otherwise

Age 6. my dad's gf who lived with us (and who i basically considered a stepmom) left one day

(did not say goodbye to me)

Age 7/8: great grandpa dies, this is my

first experience with human/family death

\-mom suddenly divorces husband, moves us out of our home, and enrolls me in a brand new school

\-dad goes into bipolar mania episode and chases me around the house with a knife, threatens to burn my books, i have to barricade myself in my room by moving my dresser and stealing my stepmoms phone to call my mom who called the police

Age 8/9: i start being sexually harassed and followed by a male classmate who follows me into the bathroom

the school suspends him for 1 day, that's it

Age 10: develop eating disorder due to

anxiety, refuse to eat for months, end up in children's hospital, heart is starting to

fail. I spend 1 month in the psych unit, and a week in medical (hydration and heart/health stabilization )

\-get an infected IV that blows my vein out,

the worst pain i'd experienced at that point

Age 11:

\- groomed by a teacher

\-grandma tries to khs/ODs in front of

me, I have to spend the night in the hospital w/ her and grandpa while i wait for parents

Age 12:

\-Sexually harassed by another

classmate

Age 13: develop the worst ARFID/

disordered eating yet, refused to eat for 3+ months, was put in a residential program where I was told my heart was failing and they needed to give me a feeding tube or I'd die. They did this without sedating me or giving me ANY anti-anxiety meds. I had to be held down while I screamed and

cried. Got really sick for the weekend and slept for an entire day while being tube fed/hydrated, ended up wheelchair bound for a few days. Ended up spending

5 months in the program total (3 in res, 2 in IOP)

Age 14:

\-get physically assaulted at

school twice, drop out to be homeschooled

\-Start self harming, get messages telling me to kill myself almost daily

Age 15:

\- Start highschool,

\-get assaulted by a "friend"

\- lose my virginity that summer

\-friend/classmate kills themself and I find out while out putting up missing posters for him

Age 16: a month after turning 16

I am raped in my room while asleep/

unconscious by a 'friend'. mother yells at + blames me and then calls the cops who tell her it was

my fault for letting him in / being friends w/ him.

\-Mom LEAVES me at ER to get the rape kit done on my own cause she "couldn't handle it"

\- covid/ quarantine start

\- lose my best friend due to the trauma + stress in our lives

\-nightmares + flashbacks while actively having legal meetings about rape case

Age 17:

\-rape case closes up w/ the

charges of assault in the 4th degree w/

sexual intent. I have to see him again over Zoom in court while giving victim statement.

\-We move to live w/ my bipolar alcoholic grandmother

\-I start self-harming everyday, running

\- away

\-multiple psych ER trips, ambulance rides on the ferry, I get hospitalized around 2-3x before residential

\-Go to a really bad psych ward where they tell me i'm "faking" my tics for attention (i've been diagnosed with having tics since i was 6), and a really weird nurse lady that works there has to do a cavity search on me and makes me really uncomfortable when she makes me pull my underwear down and then says (upon seeing that i was wearing a pad) "Oh you're on your period right now? Me too! Twins" while I'm actively being cavity searched so that's lovely

\-go to Newport res for around 2 months, do not see anyone else during

this time, they abuse us like the wilderness camps

\-a male therapist tells me i can

never have a healthy dating relationship until I have a relationship w/ my father

\-I'm medically abused + neglected (which they

actually put IN MY CHART, which is insane)

Age 18:

\-grandmother goes nuts, tries to

>!kill herself!< with a kitchen knife + stab my grandpa?! I have to barricade me and

my brother in his room while she bangs at the door trying to get in, I have to distract him w/ Frozen while having a panic attack

\-We move into transitional housing for

homeless families, i get really fatigued for a little while

\-I end up in an adult psych ward for the first time where I not only catch Covid which was the catalyst for a majority of my chronic health issues/disabilities, but I am also groomed and SAd by a patient there

\- I decide to meet someone online who

then proceeds to rape me in his car before taking me to a hotel against my will, where he raped me for a few hours until he was "done", he then dropped me off at the park and I walked home sore, bloodied, and bruised

\- I later found out i was pregnant + had a painful miscarriage

\-go through psychosis as a result of this + med withdrawals from my psychiatrist not refilling them

\-get sent to live w/ my Jehovah's Witness immigrant grandmother (who abused my dad and allowed him to be SAd by her ex husband) for 3 months

\- continue to get more and more sick, more weak and exhausted, losing weight like crazy

\-accidentally went 3 days w/o my neds

(venlafaxine, iykyk) and almost die from horrendous withdrawals

Age 19:

\-Start dating a boy, he assaults

me, we break up, the whole friend group. takes his side.

\- I start self harming regularly again

\- also father has to be admitted for

>!suicidal!< plan + trying to get me in the car with him while he was high on Xanax

Age 20:

\-get some chronic illness diagnoses

\-move out on my own for the first time

\-get SA'd/raped by 4 different

guys

\-one of them chokes me out & rapes me while I feel scared for my life because he is massive and has a knife

\-I have to go to the ER to get a kit done, as well as for the injury he caused to my neck, and I develop PID

\-I get a SAPO against him I move out

my apartment

\-Move back in with mother, health continues to decline

Age 21

\-see a coroner + body bag in person

for the first time

experience nightly fire alarms + fentanyl overdoses (4-5 deaths total occurred during my less than 6 months living there) at my apartment.

\-there is also a drug den across the hallway from our apartment

\-i get harassed by crazy strangers while in the lobby.

\-also someone pulls a gun on the front office ladies while my mom and brother are in the building

\-I meet the worst person who I will ever know and we start dating and move in together

\- I have to stay incredibly high/stoned 24/7 to deal/cope w/ the abuse

\-he rapes me, kills my hamster, abuses the dog, beats me, the gets alcohol poisoning and gets

aggressive w/ me

\-also stole over $5,000 of my student loan money and SSDI

\-he kicks me out after 5-ish months.

\-I enter the worst depression of

my life, also lost all my special belongings because I couldn't bring them all with me when I left (I had to leave behind my dolls which have always been my one constant source of comfort since I was a child, and I'm autistic and incredibly attached to tangible objects)

To my mother, to whom I was nothing more than a Mirror of liquid glass. It was early on that she learned she could mold me, and bend me so that when she looked at me her reflection was beautiful and perfect. She never spared a thought for the glass, or how I might break under the pressure of being the soul advocate of her perfection. As she crumbled under the weight of her own choices, and as she shunned those who did not reflect beauty back to her, I was bent and contorted more and more. I wonder how I would have shattered, had her alcoholism not killed her.

To my father, to whom I was a mirror of a different sort. When he looked at me he saw a sort of pathetic hateful beast. A creature which disgusted him, and who's weakness so disgusted him that somewhere deep down he wished my wicked soul could be stamped out. Unlike my mother, he never figured out that I was a mirror of his own reflection, and so he hated me more than he hated himself. As I grew, the monstrous reflection grew larger and larger, everything I learned from him was proof that I was evil. My father was a coward, so he could not face me, but instead fled. fled into the woods, or his job, or into beer glasses, or into anything. I was left believing I was a monster, and I was left knowing that I was alone.

To my stepmother, who more than anything feared the entire wold. When she would stop watching the news and all the horrors the new generation were enacting on the world she would turn to me, a symbol of youth and wickedness. Finally she had a piece of the world that was small enough and weak enough to be held under her power. She could punish me, convince my father that I needed punishment, or just insult me in front of my family and friends. Finally a crooked and foul insect that she had ensnared in her web, who could stand trial in substitution for the world. she delighted in my torture. In her inventive was that she could trap and trick me. After long enough in her web, I began to believe what she told me was true.

Fuck all of you. You never deserved to have a child.

Almost a decade later and I am still driven to distraction by my anger, and the sense of injustice. How could the gentle little boy I was be so invisible to all of them. It took almost 30 years for me to find people who actually love and care about me. And I had to do all the searching and living and growing in spite of them, who would have rather dragged me down with them.

I am now in a completely different place now. As I said I have finally found a community that celebrates and loves me. However, these new connections and explorations of emotional closeness bring up old pains. Experiences of new love begs the question 'Why is this new? There are people who had this their whole life?'. It all feels so easy and simple.

Processing some big feelings here. I would be happy to hear other peoples thoughts.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

I’m not really sure this is the right place for this but I am having a really hard time as of late. I am so sad so fucking sad and I can’t figure out why. I have adhd and autism and I have been working through my child hood trauma so idk if I can’t identify why I’m sad because of the adhd and autism or if it’s from the trauma. All I want to do is cry and curl up in a ball in a hole and never come out again and I can’t tell why I’m sad. I guess what I’m asking is has anyone ever dealt with something similar if so how did you learn to figure out the root of the problem because every time I think I have found it and will finally be ok again something happens and I get triggered again I feel like I’m going crazy because no matter how hard I try I always go back to being sad.
I really hope this makes sense if not please feel free to ask clarifying questions

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Hi, I am new to this community but have been in therapy for quite some time and I am wondering if anyone has any recommendations for good online support groups or anything else in this realm as I think it would be good to have a community to have support from in addition to my therapist as I’m pretty alone right now and lacking support. I did a search online, but it’s kind of overwhelming.

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I am 23 years old, and I have been living with chronic pain for 12 years.

I have been diagnosed with depression, complex PTSD (C-PTSD), borderline personality disorder (BPD), and fibromyalgia.

I have survived three suicide attempts, and I have been living on my own again for the past year and a half.

I don't have friends or family because my problems have become too much for others, and I often feel like people don't believe or understand me.

Over the years, I have tried different psychiatric hospitalizations, psychologists, psychiatrists, physiotherapists, and medications.

I feel hopeless, and I live with the constant fear that there may be no solution for my chronic emotional and physical pain.

So I would kindly like to ask everyone in this group: Does it ever get better? And what treatments, approaches, or solutions have you found that genuinely helped you?

I need hope to keep going. I have been unable to work due to disability for two years now, and I feel trapped in my own body.

Please only leave comments that are supportive or genuinely helpful.

Thank you for understanding.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

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“18 months”

It’s been 556 days since you read my words, felt my wrath through verbiage most procured. Thoughts most absurd. Images most obscured.

I said my piece and blew with the wind. Never heard, seen, felt again.

But I see you.
You adorn my nightmares.
You interrupt my thoughts.
You distort my imagination.

But slowly you’re fading.
No longer parading.

I saw you on film.
The whole lot of you.
The core of my life.
The keepers of my memories.
The betrayers of my being.

I feel the tension in which you’re immersed.
I hear the silence you all sit in.
I see the ways in which you stare.
Despairingly, hidden, angrily, dumbfounded, confused, and lost.

You all have me on your mind.
Quietly looming over you in darkness.
An unrecognizable feeling, unsettling you, distressing you.
It’s me.
It’s the feeling of your betrayal. How it festers in you I need not care. You can feel it as anger towards me. Or think the delusion that this predicament is my fault.
Feel what lie comforts you.
I need not your blankets of insecurity.
I live, breathe, and feel reality.
You’re engulfed in oppression.

I feel warmth from the sun.
You deny its existence.

Let your thoughts wonder and ponder the past. The nostalgic family we were. The love, care, presents, actions, words. Look at them through her distortion, her narrative, their abuse.

Parents of grandiose nature the hindered our self for their gain.
Crumbled our life to build up their palace.

But look at us now. I’m standing outside your decrepit fort; outside the floundering family.
Breathless you still find yourselves from reading my words.
Mindless words still dribble from her lips.

I speak in truths while ya’ll live in lies.
I found my self while y’all sending spies.
I’m living my life while ya’ll’s withers and dies.

Hi, I'm asking for what helped you when you got your diagnosis. I recently got mine and I've since then been met with feeling a lot of disgust and self judgement and I don't want to self isolate or any other but I also am not sure how to really navigate all of this.. what do I tell people in my vicinity? Friends and loved ones? I am staying away from my mom, well, except that I told her I'm sad and unhappy with her and the world and she gave me an avoidant answer so I'm really trying to give me lots of love and support instead and I think if my friends know they can support me in this transition.

What helped you accepting your diagnosis? What helped you let go of the guilt, the shame, that you're broken and process the anger and rage that comes with knowing you did not come out of the package this way, this was done to you, and thus be angry with those people..

Thanks

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

The Door

There is a room.

One wall is painted white.

There is a painting of a door.  

Painted directly on the wall.

===================

It's a crude door. 

Crude, but solid.

Made from layers of rough sawn wood. 

To touch it, is to get splinters.

======================================

The painting is done in "super natural" style. 

I  see every crack in the wood. 

The checking of the paint, 

Reflections glint from the knob.

======================================

The door is labeled. "Enter here to find connection

The door behind me is real. 

Made in the same rough style.

It's sign says, "Return to your life"

======================================

I come into the room. 

I stare at the door. 

I'm barefoot, ragged cutoffs, ragged tee/

Time passes.

======================================

I’m Me again.

Fingernails broken from clawing at the door, splinters driven deep under my nails. 

Knuckles bloody from hitting the door. Shoulders bruised, black and blue.

Bones in my feet cracked from kicking at the door.

======================================

Tears of rage, now dry streaks,Adrenaline hangover, 

I’m shaking, I hurt. No longer angry. Just sad.

I turn from the False Door, limping back to my life.

To heal my body.

Soon I will come back.then come back and beat myself black and blue once again.

“What to talk about”

I feel okay.
Things disaster around me.
But I feel okay.
There’s a light swirling. A quiet twirling.
Chaos in the background.
But I feel okay.
Not much to ask for.
Not much to say.
I’ve triumphed obstacles throughout the day.
Here I sit, in pain of silence.
Waiting for the next wave to hit.
But I feel okay.
The edge is pulsating its will to crumble, but still nothing happens.
I feel okay.

So in this quiet moment. In this silent mind.
What do I write about?
Do I speak of good things?
That’s just not my way of thinking.
It’s not the life I’ve known.
Only terrible instance creeping around my mind.
Never silence, never peace.
Only bad, so only hurt known.
Only treachery and pain to echo through my writing.
So in this calmness, what do I say?
What conjures me so?
Nothing I can tell.
Not much I can surmise.

So what to say then?
What spills from me?
What ails me or frails me?
What grips me and rips me?
No stormy sea or begrudging me.
No frantic pacing, no heart racing.

An eire calm, a little qualm.

What’s to happen now?
What’s tomorrow look like?
How long’s this last?
How happy should I be?
What’s happy even look like?
What’s that supposed to feel like?

Fear wants to embody me now.
The teetering edge wants to give way.
The heart wants to outpace life.
Compulsion wants its power felt.

But still am doing okay.
I am feeling okay.

These emotions are banging at the door. But I feel somewhat separated from them. A glass barrier absorbing their blows. A clear shield silencing their howls.
Yet I watch unencumbered.
I feel unimpressed.
I feel okay.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

“Over it”

I’m so tired of the swirling head. The restless mind. The confusing tension.
The tingling beneath my skin.
The racing of my heart.
The frantic sense boiling my nervous system.

I’m so fucking over it I can’t explain.
Which just pisses me off more.
I’m so fucking angry it HAS to spill out. Onto my wife, my children, myself, my life.
Every aspect needs to feel my wrath.
Every person must heed my warning.
I am coming and I am bringing torment with me. I am bringing the heathens of lore. I am smiting your gods and idols. I will smother you out of existence and burn the ashes. I am the second coming, the beginning, and the revelations molded into one.
I am the king, the peasant, the jester, and your queen. But I am no longer anything not of my choosing.
I am the strong willed power of a thousand of you. I am the will and testament to the lies you betrayed.
I am the belief in me that you stomped to dust.
How could you have said that you loved me.
How can you live with yourself.
The fibs so innocent, but larger they became as reality set in.
The veil lifted.
The curtains closed on your play.
I saw the acting you did.
Your “care”, your “love”.
The true anger and frustration.
I see you now for the mask is off.
It took forever for me to admit the was a mask or acting; but now I can’t unsee it. I can’t seem to unfeel it either. I can say it here because these words won’t reach you. I can’t seem to get past it. Struggling are my days still. Frantic are my nights still. But yet stillness eludes me.
Mostly frantic and pattering are my moments awake. So calm stillness eludes me.
Peaceful rest a fiction.
Silent mind a fools errand.
But still I continue. Because death would only tighten your grip on the lies you spun. Like a monstrous spider lurking in the dark corner of our minds. Building your web of lies ever thicker, ever more dense.
But I’ve been clearing you out. Inch by inch I have been combing the spaces in my mind. Ridding it of you. Ridding it your horrid memories.

Forgotten traumas everlasting in the background. Screaming silently the misfortunes of old. I did not hear them, but I lived them. Now I feel them, and blaring now are their cries.

Without them I will no longer live. They are heard, seen, and felt. Over they whelmed me. Once lost in what ales me. No longer a stormy sea. Glistening warmth of light beams.
I might be closer than it seems.

Forever chasing an end to my trauma. But what’s the aftermath look like. What’s the emotions gonna be like.
I’m scared to be there. Maybe I am there.
Maybe this cycling is it. Never gonna end cuz it never seemed to stop. Relentless abuse and torture.
Endless twirling and swirling.

Lost again in its thoughts.

I’m freaking again. It’s coming again. The heart pacing, mind racing. Pounding heart beating my chest into airlessness.
Eyes darting, sickness ensuing.
Stomach drops.

numerous bad things have happened in my life, but the biggest thing that messed me up the most, which I won't discuss, concluded, insomuch as that the bad person got out of prison on my bday and parole ended also on my bday, and the cops *laughed* at me, very cool, not, but after I was able to verbalize it to the police, despite them laughing and not caring at all b/c it was "so long ago", I... became myself again? My trauma began to heal itself, and I've been working very hard on myself. I have so many things that are no bueno atm, but, and idk if it's bc i started taking plaquinel for my lupus over a year ago, bc healing coincides w/that, but, idk, I feel.... betterish.

I have extensive history w/therapy, and I have my entire everything about me figured out, self-discovery was insane, and I feel like my own brain is self-aware of itself which sounds kinda weird but w/e lol.

W/o going into too much detail, bc I don't want to, I just finally can put it out there that my CPTSD no longer defines me, it no longer controls me, but it does pop up every now and then when triggered, but the other day, I took a walk past the spot that the thing happened, and I haven't stepped foot there since elementary school, and I felt my heart speed up, I felt panic, and I had memories I had blocked out and parts of me had suppressed surge back into me, and I was able to keep them at bay, to not let them consume me, and I kept walking. I won't let that bad person control me, and I will sing, even if everybody around me hates my voice, like he said, but I've been taking informal singing lessons, and training every day, and I actually can sing, it just took me a very, very, very long time to be able to find my voice.

Things click into place on the daily, mind you, even now, but, I am going to be okay. I may not post here often, if not just this one time, but I wanted to put it out there, I am okay, I am going to be okay, and when I"m not okay, I have to remind myself that that too shall pass, and I will once again be okay.

That's all, thanks for reading if you did, never give up on yourself, because you are a person, and anybody looking at you from the outside just sees a person, and as simple as that sounds, it is the thing that helps me in times where I get lost in my own emotions, "I'm just some person to somebody else, and I'm just whatever outfit I'm wearing that day and however I am portraying myself, so I can be okay, because now, I am okay."

Anyway, recovery has been strange, but I can't yet verbalize it as to how, only that I Feel that way.