I thought I had a specific phobia to dental work but I now believe I have or am developing ptsd from having unmanaged pain during a procedure several months ago. I think this because I went in for a permanent crown placement a few days ago and had a flashback and panic attack after hearing the voice of the woman who was present the day of the incident. I now am having nightmares and I can’t stop thinking about it.

I do have a long history of pain not being properly managed. I used to be able to get by by telling myself it’s irrational, but now it’s very clear that unmanaged pain is very much a valid concern for me.

The issue is that I still have dental work to be completed, including the same procedure that caused the current trauma. I currently go in medicated, receive nitrous oxide, use headphones, watch tv and have a blanket, but none of that worked a few days ago. Does anyone have any tips while I wait to get in with my PCP and get a referral to therapy? I’m hoping to begin CBT and EMDR therapy as that helped with other issues in the past.

Hello everyone. I believe that I have some form of medical trauma or post traumatic symptoms from an orthopedic surgery (ACLR) I had around six weeks ago, but I don't know for sure. ACL surgeries are apparently relatively common and routine procedures. While the surgery itself went fine technically, I endured pretty awful and bad treatment by the staff at the surgical center. Sorry for the long post.

Firstly, there were so many staff working that it felt like nobody cared at all and they were rushing everyone. I was stressed out of a mix of anxiety and dysphoria from being misgendered (I'm trans, nobody cared to address me correctly). When I changed into the gown and met with the anesthesiologist, they explained the use of an opiate and benzo IV for "sedation" while I was getting a leg nerve block injection (nerve blocks are common for ACLR). I raised objections, saying I was hesitant but they dismissed me and said it's fine because it's "not like the stuff that comes across the southern border" (this was in the USA). They said I'll get opioids after op, I asked if I can refuse them, and they said "you can, but you're going to want them" and laughed.

It was awful during the nerve block administration. I had a paradoxical or bad reaction to the benzo and my anxiety spiked and my vision felt like it was spinning. The anesthesiologist couldn't find the nerve properly and just guessed. It was incredibly painful and they were extremely irritated that they couldn't find the nerve and ignored all I said about the bad medication reaction, only offering to increase the dose and essentially saying to just deal with it.

After the nerve block was done, because of the bad reaction and my anxiety being through the roof, I was in abject terror. I cried on the way to the operating room. Nobody cared. I handed an OR nurse a tissue covered in tears on the operating table before I went under. I saw the surgeon preparing the scalpels and such. It terrified me. That's the last thing I remember before going under.

When I woke up I heard them talking about my vitals. The pain was searing but manageable. Then I went to the recovery ward and this is where even more awfulness happened. Many of the nurses tried to get me to take opioid medication I had previously stated I didn't want. I explained my traumatic family history of substance abuse and addiction. One nurse said that he also had a family history of this, but "sometimes you just have to do what's best for yourself." When I consistently refused, they tried to get my family members that were with me to convince me to take them. I still didn't. But it was absolutely horrible to have medication pushed so much in such a coercive and deceptive way by several people. It was violating. I asked for alternative strong NSAID and they said they didn't have it. I ended up with the equivalent of OTC meds. It was painful, but tolerable.

Then finally I was able to go home. I never took the opioids they gave me. But in the weeks since I've had recurring nightmares, unwanted memories, anxiety, and depressive symptoms. My family asks me if I'm okay. I'm not. But I lie to them and tell them I am. They wonder why I can't "snap out of it." When I think about it, it brings up the same terror I felt in the OR. I have to go to physical therapy several times a week for rehab and the PT was even shocked when I told her about some of this yesterday. She's so nice, at least.

I don't want to report this because it would reopen all of it and I honestly don't think anybody would believe me or anything would come of it anyway. I've considered psychotherapy, but my previous experience with therapy was bad and I had to quit because of an inexperienced therapist that basically said there's nothing they could have done for my situation at that time. And now, my current health insurance requires medical referral and authorization from my PCP/GP for psychotherapy. I honestly don't know if I could discuss this openly with a doctor. I never want to interact with the medical field again but I have to because of some ongoing hormone and cardiac issues, possible future surgeries, and surgical follow up appointments with the surgeon over months.

I don't know how to cope. I don't know how to get rid of the anxiety, the recurring nightmares, the terror, all of it. Does anybody have any coping mechanisms or advice on how to deal with this? Is this medical PTSD?

Thank you so much to anybody that responds or even reads this post. I'm sorry it was such a long read. I haven't talked to anybody about the full extent of this and it's a weight lifted off of me to talk about this.

Ever since i started developing symptoms of ptsd i’ve felt ashamed to talk about them. I’ve gotten to know a few combat vets and rape victims who have talked to me about their ptsd and their stories are so much worse than anything i’ve ever experienced. I’m honestly afraid to openly admit that i experience symptoms of it because i feel like so many people have been through much worse things than i have and i feel like i should be able to just forget about it because it’s nothing like what they went through. I know that isn’t the right way to deal with the things that I’ve experienced but it just makes me feel like a piece of shit when i try and open up about it. The only person that i’ve opened up to it about is my girlfriend and my best friend. I feel like I should be glad that it isn’t worse than it is because I got off easy somehow. The only person that has witnessed me deal with a serious episode is my girlfriend and i know that she understands and supports me but it just feels so difficult to explain it without sounding like i’m weak. I haven’t been diagnosed by a professional because I’m terrified that they’ll invalidate me and tell me to get over it because they’ve dealt with a lot more serious cases than what i’m dealing with. I still have night terrors and extreme anxiety because of the amount of time i’ve spent in excruciating pain (over 9 months in constant fight or flight mode due to severe chronic pain and medical procedures), coupled with varying depression. Does anyone else feel this way or am I just overthinking it? I still hurt sometimes now and i feel like i’ve dealt with most of it on my own, but sometimes things will just trigger an episode to where i feel like i’m right back where i was when dealing with the most excruciating pain of my life. It just puts me back in that state of fight or flight and makes me experience the physical and mental pain all over again to the point where i feel completely helpless and can’t stop shaking. Does anyone else feel this way or am i just way too prideful to admit that i need help? I feel crazy because of it but i know i need to do what i can to get these things under control while i can. Whoever is reading this thanks for listening to my stupid little rant, any feedback is appreciated.

I have a rare disease that due to late diagnoses left me permanently deformed. X-rays were misread despite having obviously bowing/deformities, tumors were missed until it was too late, I had no coordination with physio/OT/even pain management, etc. I've nearly lost a limb at least 5x (my left wrist is still significantly deformed), nearly became paralyzed 2x, underwent 23 (at least) Major bone surgeries + went through extreme chronic pain by myself because I had to. Yet, despite having to keep fighting for myself and a ton of medical gaslighting, I found at least one or two surgeons who were eventually willing to operate.

But my biggest disappointment was with the mental health system. When I went For help, none of them would actually recognize that health issues or disabilities could cause trauma or distress. They treated it as if it was natural. Then, I should just be used to it. Even with a psychologist how she ran tests And assessments That demonstrated I had severe PTSD symptoms and in the same session I talked about how horrible it was to find out that I had a rare disease and due to doctors not believing me I would likely have to lose my limb, she claimed that none of it was traumatic. I also talked about how terrified I was about the doctors missing another spinal tumor and not being able to operate on the ones that were there. Let alone the countless autoimmune diseases that I later had. And the various rare counts or scares that came with this disease. But none of that was traumatic, it was apparently my own body. So it should be natural.

This wasn't just one psychologist or therapist. It was the majority of them. Surgeons would take a look on my x-rays and say that it was a severe deformity. But When I went went to mental health support, they didn't even think it was worthy enough to give generic disability accommodations. And this wasn't just an invisible disability, my entire left wrist was severely bowed and missing part of a bone. Then I was also told to distract myself or to focus on my body when I had severe untreated Pain from spinal tumors and chest tumors and arm tumors. They treated it like some CBT would overcome this massive catastrophication when I would literally just quote my surgeons. None could put two and two together and think that hey, maybe having to go through such a horrific ideal would be traumatic and instead treated it like something I should be used to. When I beg for help processing this because honestly I was starting to break down when I went to a doctor's appointment and had to advocate for some surgery or you know actual tests or manage some medical issues as rare diseases don't really have case management in my country, most mental health practitioners thought it would be something I would just get overnaturally.

I also found it ironic how said therapists would whine about being sick for 3 months were was or a slipped disc or procedures that I had to go through five times already or were had to go through something more severe. Like there was nothing for me to process and I couldn't talk about how severely I was let down by the medical system and how horrific the gaslighting was. But something that I had to brush off for myself is relatively minor is somehow huge in their life as a trauma. I was just naturally supposed to get over it and over and over again. Or supposedly using mindfulness to connect my body which was so broken from multiple surgeries and disease but they didn't even Care or use their brains to make a logical deduction that somebody whose body has tried to kill them multiple times and has tumors all over them probably won't feel relaxed by contracting muscles over their tumors. I just don't understand why I can't seem to get basic empathy or understanding from that field. Heck, most most were unwilling to admit that doctors can make mistakes and thought that you know a GP would manage everything for a rare disease. I basically have to recover by myself and that's hard.

Hi, everyone. I’m reaching out to share a deeply traumatic experience I had during an epidural steroid injection for my herniated disc (L5-S1) and to ask for advice or support.

I’ve been dealing with low back pain for over a year. My disc is severely herniated (along with some other issues with my spine) and I’ve been told I will absolutely need a full disc replacement within the next 1-5 years. I’m only 24.

After imaging confirmed the herniation, my primary care doctor referred me to a pain and spine specialist.

At my consultation the vibes were off and I didn’t really like the doctor, but I told myself that if I could find some relief it would be worth it. After all, you’d expect a spine and pain specialist to be at least decent at their job and be able to preform their job duties as a medical professional, right? This is a “highly esteemed” specialist clinic. They had a 4.9/5 on google and I trusted that I’d be taken care of, even if I didn’t personally like the guy. I will never EVER ignore my gut feeling ever again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How was I supposed to know? How was I supposed to know I was about to experience the single most painful thing of my life?

During my consultation I explained to the doctor, AND right before the injection to the medical staff, that lidocaine often doesn’t work for me. I asked for alternative numbing agents, and I was assured multiple times that they would ensure I was numb before starting.

On the day of the procedure, I wasn’t allowed to have my husband come back with me, so I was completely alone during this whole experience. After taking my vitals, a staff member explained how the procedure would go, reassured me that the doctor would check if I was numb, and said he’d talk me through it. But that’s not what happened.

After being instructed to lay on a table face down, the medical staff prepped me and left me exposed for 5-10 minutes without saying a word. No small talk—nothing. Random staff were coming in and out of the room while I laid there confused until the x-ray tech said, “thanks for being so patient.”

When the doctor finally came into the room, he didn’t introduce himself or explain what he was doing. He simply said, “Okay, I’m going to start the procedure now,” and immediately began injecting numbing medication without any warning. It burned and pinched badly, and I yelled out in pain. His only response was, “Yeah, it kinda burns, huh.” Then he proceeded to inject the second dose of numbing without any warning again. At this point I was silently crying in fear. I’m no stranger to the medical world and needles and pain, but this just felt SO different and scary.

About ONE minute after injecting the numbing agent, without checking if I was numb, without ANY WARNING he proceeded to insert the epidural. It was the most excruciating pain of my life. i don’t even know how to begin to describe the pain. I was sobbing, screaming, and shaking uncontrollably. I could not control my body, I couldn’t stop shaking. I genuinely think I was in shock from the pain and could hear the heart monitoring freaking out. I told him I could feel everything and that I was in so much pain. I was sobbing and the only thing I could see was my hands below me filling with tears.

When I continued to scream louder with the pain becoming so unbearable I thought I might pass out, he pressed the needle on a nerve and asked, “Can you feel that?” I screamed again in response and said “YES I CAN FEEL EVERYTHING!!!” It felt cruel, as though he was toying with me.

When I was screaming that I could feel EVERYTHING he didn’t say anything and just stabbed the second epidural dose in without any warning. I didn’t jump up because I feared that if I moved I could become paralyzed. He was injecting into my spine.

The entire time, he didn’t communicate, offer reassurance, or even acknowledge my pain. The only things he said were dismissive comments like, “It should start to subside.” By the end, I was shaking, sobbing, and completely exhausted.

As soon as he said he was done I got up off the table and threw myself into a wheelchair using my arms. I wanted to get tf away from him and everyone in that room. Everyone in the room seemed shocked into silence by what had just happened and the x-ray tech quietly said, “I hope the injection makes you feel better…”

Afterward, I could barely stand. It felt like my entire leg was going to give out completely from the physical trauma and my foot was the only thing that felt sort of numb. During the 20 minute recovery the doctor stopped by briefly. When I tried to voice my concerns the doc dismissed me entirely and left the room. A kind staff member wheeled me out to my husband, where I broke down in uncontrollable sobbing.

The experience has left me physically and emotionally wrecked. My legs are still weak, I’ve had trouble eating or sleeping, and I feel deeply dehumanized. It very difficult to walk due to the new pain and weakness and im worried about fevers. When I got home all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. I don’t have a thermometer at the moment, but I woke up freezing and absolutely drenched in sweat.

I filed a formal complaint with my state’s medical board, but I’m still struggling with the trauma. I’m considering possible legal action, but I don’t have any physical proof of anything. Just my testimony and possibly staff testimony. This happened yesterday (11/15), so I’m trying to figure out where I should go to see if I’m medically okay. I feel stable at the moment, just in pain and absolutely traumatized.

Has anyone else experienced anything like this? How did you cope or find support? I feel like I’m writing the screenplay for a torture movie lmao. Any advice would mean so much to me. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

A while ago, I wrote about my medical trauma here. (Long story short, my colonoscopy was promised to be "low pain" with the tranquilizer and painkiller I got orally, and turned out to be a 9 on the Mankoski pain scale; for context, 10 is when you lose consciousness from the pain; evil doctor didn't stop the procedure when I started screaming my head off and then had the nerve to put "sensitive colon" in my file.)

For my upcoming gastrointestinal torture colonoscopy I'd requested anesthesia because I'm still traumatized from last time (flashbacks several years later count as trauma symptoms, right?), and now they're writing that I'm going to get "sedation" and, according to them, this is so that "the procedure does not feel painful or unpleasant". [insert long string of expletives in a mixture of languages]

Now I have to call them again in order to tell them that I'd like the procedure to not feel like anything at all please, and that I'm fully prepared to cancel the whole thing if they won't allow me actual, honest-to-gods anesthesia.

I've already sent them feedback through their online form about how I'm extremely dissatisfied with how they handle patients' requests. *big sigh* At least I had fun looking up technical (Graeco-Latin) terms. I hope they'll make my complaint sound much more impressive.

(Took me long enough to write these few short paragraphs because I had to stop and regulate my breathing and steady my hands so often.)

Hello everyone,

I had a TFMR in june. My stillborn baby was 34 weeks. Labour was mismanaged and I had a 4th degree tear. I felt completely neglected and mislead. Doctors have made akward borderline racist comments like 'you're not super white, so we didn't think you'd tear so bad'. [I'm mixed race]

How did you learn to trust doctors again? Because every doctor I met so far has made me feel like my body was not worth being careful with and that my health is worth shit.

I can't believe this group exists. I was diagnosed but not given any relief. I have many autoimmune disorders among other health issues. My anxiety, stress and depression get so bad that I don't get out of bed. Yes I'm on depression and anxiety meds. This morning I woke up to an email regarding blood work and I have more medical issues. It's frustrating to be dx'd with new things almost monthly.

How do y'all cope? TIA

I don't want to go into too much detail but I had an emergency surgery last year which could've been prevented had they listened to me months earlier. Then, I started having post-op complications while I was still in the hospital, and they again found ways to explain away every symptom I had without doing a single test. They just kept asking me if I was ready to go home yet.

After a few hours of that, I let them send me home because I was exhausted and angry and I couldn't really think straight. Went home, took a nap, woke up in much worse shape. Was brought back to a hospital, and I remember the ER nurse looking at me pitifully and saying, "it's... pretty bad" when he came back to tell me my diagnoses. 2 more weeks in the hospital and several more of home health care after that.

I'm grateful to say I mostly recovered from that whole ordeal, except now when I feel the slightest bit sick I start panicking. What if it's happening again? What if I have to go to the hospital? What if I have to go to the hospital and they dismiss me and send me home again? What if they're wrong again? What if I don't make it this time? Every little fever, abdominal pain, lightheadedness, or lethargy makes my mind race like this.

I'm now dealing with what is probably a chronic autoimmune disorder (still going through testing) so I feel sick pretty often. I don't know how to deal with it psychologically. I have a psychiatrist and a therapist but they seem to think I'm just a hypochondriac, which... I'm not necessarily denying, but it certainly came from somewhere.

Buckle up, folks, this is a long one. Please let me know if I'm being crazy.

I (16f) have a complex medical history that started the literal second I was born. I was born prematurely with multiple issues with my lower body (you'll see why I use this term later). I had multiple surgeries in order to walk, none of which I remember. 

I don’t remember most of my childhood, but from what I know I never had a problem with doctors. Both my parents are in the medical field, which might have contributed to that trust. I was constantly going in for X-rays and consults for my leg issues and I never felt nervous about it.

I've always been a creative kid and I love making up stories. I know that I used to tell my sister bedtime stories but I don’t remember the specifics. Years later, she casually pointed out that my stories had a common theme of injections, usually in more private areas. This also ties in to the constant nightmares of suppositories that I felt, and still feel, too embarrassed to mention to my parents.

I had another surgery when I was twelve and it messed me up. I couldn’t remember anyone explaining the procedure to me and I truthfully only gave in after having ‘privileges’ (small things, like Roblox) taken away from me. My last straw was when my mom's sister bought my sisters and I candy but said I could only have mine if I agreed to the surgery.

So I did.

I couldn’t trust my parents for years after and it really damaged our relationship. When I finally brought it up they were confused because they both remember explaining it to me and remember the doctor doing so too. I spent TWO WHOLE YEARS feeling violated because of my mind blocking out the explanations. Right before that surgery, I was hysterically crying, convinced I was going to die, all because my mind blocked out context.

Then, I found out I have PCOS (here's where the ‘lower body’ part comes in) which made sense because I had some signs of it. Oddly, I’ve never felt uncomfortable at the gynaecologist, but then again he's also been my mom's gyno since before I was born and I’ve never been alone with him.

It all really came to a head last year. I tried to OD and had to get my stomach pumped. The doctors and nurses were kind and respectful and I didn’t feel like I was in danger, mainly because we were at the hospital one of my parents worked at.

But then a nurse put something inside me.

To this day, I don’t know what it was. I’m not sure if they needed a sample of something or if they were taking my temperature but either way I immediately felt wrong. She didn’t ask me beforehand and I didn’t tell her no. 

I wanted to scream. Really, I wanted to scream and kick and thrash but I didn’t want to put my parents' reputation in jeopardy more than I already thought I had. So I stayed still and tried to ignore it.

I don’t know if I've ever had any other invasive procedures done in the past. I’ve never heard my parents talk about it. I’ve come to the realisation that I’m very likely asexual due to a number of reasons but one of the main ones being I can’t even think about penetration without getting this sinking feeling in my chest. I guess what I want to ask is if something's wrong with me. Does anyone else have dreams about forced medical procedures? Is this valid? Am I overreacting? I don’t run or try to avoid doctors but I feel this pit in my stomach every time I think about medical procedures or hospitals. 

Sorry for the long rant, but I need to know if something's wrong with me. Please let me know if I’m alone in this.

So, I've been throught 8 VCUGs from 2 to 6 years old, and developed OCD and ED early in childhood, which isn't uncommon on PTSD patients. I've been in treatment for OCD and ED with this psychiatrist for almost two years now, but I'd never told her anything about my VCUGs. Yesterday I had an appointment with her, and finaly talked about it, 'cause I tought that could be important for her to know. I was nervous, my voice shaking, and she pretty much dismissed it and told me straight up that I don't know what really happend 'cause "children have a lot of imagination". She had never treat me like this before, always had been really caring and good listener. After the appointment I was very confuse and somehow ashamed, and told my wife about it. My wife has ADHD and she's in treatment with the same doctor, and for my surprise, she got aggraveted with me for talking to the doctor about this, and said that she knew this doctor wasn't the right one for this and that we should have had looked for a psychiatrist who is specialist in trauma. My wife always had been really suportive and sensitive with me so her behaviour when I told her about my appointment really surprise me, 'cause she talked like I did the wrong thing telling the doctor about this, and the doctor's response was not a big deal cause "she's not a trauma specialist" Now I'm angry, confuse and regreting talked about this.

I had my first baby in July , the birth ended up resulting in an episiotomy and forceps needed to deliver baby . After which I received a 3rd degree tear . I had a 6 week check with the pelvic floor physio where she guided me through pelvic floor exercises to help , she wanted to do a physical check of my peri and also my bum where the tear went to , I declined as I was still massively traumatised from the birth and not in the head space to be touched again ( the days after the birth I had so many hands down there it was super uncomfortable)

Anyway I never heard from the gynie clinic until nearly 2.5 mths postpartum in which I still was just traumatised and maybe abit lazy I never mad the appointment but mostly the thought of walking past the birth wing and potentially seeing the dr who played a part of the birth and didn’t wrong thing ( I was told he never should of used the forceps I needed a emergency C as baby only had minutes to survive how stuck she was . Anyway again I never went back to get a final check of my peri and the tear . My recovery wasn’t to bad I felt good down there although I had sex with my partner for the first time last night and I read super uncomfortable and slight painful , and when I was having a feel of the area today I noticed I could feel something really hard sharp and small on the inside of my bum before my anus

Any advice please??

How to accept the loss of your former self

Pre-Heart disease me was a young 18 year old with no worry in the world but boom that summer all of a sudden, i had an heart that started to function less than it should, due to complications of Myocarditis by suspected 2nd Pfizer shot, Now 3 years later at 21 years old i still have a tough time dealing with this loss of life and i'm starying to resent life itself, My heart function goes down each year after the checkups but noone does something about it, I'm so sick and tired of constant palpitations, Shortness of breath and exercise intollerance, I used to be very much capable of endurance sports and my Heart would never act strange but since summer 2021 everything changed and i have lost all hope the Grief and pain of not being able to go back and change my decision is nagging and i have a hard time accepting that my life will not be aslong as i'd hoped but at this point i have lost all hope, Why do i have to suffer with this, Why me and why do Docters not take me serious anymore, I can't handle these stressors anymore they have tottally destroyed my former self that was confident and felt Healthy, I want to go back but i can't, there is no miracle cure for me either, It's all too difficult for me to process, and Grief has been expedential and i'm having a hard time dealing with it.

Nearly all of the neuro doctors in the only hospital accessible to me have had some part in my recent trauma. The malpractice and neglect started in Feb this year and has ended in June of this year. It was very rough and I am struggling to process this. I wanted to look for books about people who suffered from something similar but I can’t find any. Any recommendations?

I have had some very traumatizing experiences at the hands of healthcare professionals. Now nearly every time I have to deal with a healthcare provider, I go into a complete fight or flight response and I can't seem to control it. I yell, I kick people, I try to get away as fast as I can, and am just generally a horrible person.

It often escalates to the point of being restrained by security guards which keeps deepening the trauma and worsening my behaviour. I feel so guilty afterwards and it's affecting my self-worth.

I know being abusive isn't ok but I can't seem to control it. It's like I black out and lose all control of myself. I often don't remember what I've even done. I don't know what to do.

A little background information: I'm autistic, transgender (which has been a big source of trauma when accessing healthcare), and I started using a wheelchair later on in life due to a neurological condition. The problem behavior started after I had my wheelchair taken away from me in the hospital and they tried to force me to walk.

my enema abuse story/being reminded by recent nightmares

TW: mention of ED, depression, anxiety, and invalidating therapists

sorry if i mention some things that aren’t necessarily related to the abuse but i feel they are necessary to be included to explain all my trauma and to fully vent everything

when i was 12/13 (and i think some of 14 but it’s all kind of hazy) i was forced to have enemas by my mom.

now i will admit sometimes i had marks in my underwear but that was from trying to hold it from not wanting to get up, at the time i was dealing with the loss of my grandma and really was going through depression because of that and the new hormones in my body from starting puberty.

but also i have my reasons to believe my mom didn’t do it just because of that, because not only did she give me miralax first and it worked and i didn’t mind taking it (even tho it was very humiliating to be stared down while drinking it and brought me to tears many times) but still do enemas, but because i was a ballet dancer.

around that age is when i started developing a stomach, which was inevitable because both sides of my family are on the heavier side. but i was the only girl with a with a little bulging stomach in her leotard in my class, and if you know anything about ballet culture you know we’re taught the skinnier the better basically. while yes i myself was self conscious about that, but i believe my mom didn’t like it and gave me the enemas to try to make me skinnier. i’m unsure that if this were true if it were in a trying to help me way or trying to punish me way. or i could also believe that maybe this was done to her and that’s why she did it to me, because she does not have a relationship with her mother and has never told me why.

but recently i’ve been having nightmares about this and have finally recognized what i went through as abuse. i was homeschooled at the time because of really bad anxiety issues so she could do them to me whenever she was home when eve she wanted. she would make me do it multiple times for about 2-3 hours and sometimes when i would say it hurt and couldn’t take anymore she would say “you can take some more” or “you’re going to have to take some more”, it would hurt to the point where i felt like my stomach was going to explode. and if i didn’t/refused to do them she would take my ipad and tv privileges away (she didn’t want me having a phone until high school)

also, she did not try hard to keep this a secret from my brother and he would ridicule me, but i forgive him, he was only 10/11 at the time and didn’t know any better, he was just a kid and i actually feel bad he had to witness/know about it (i can’t remember how he found out). my dad knew about this and i would beg him to try to get her to stop but because of their marital problems and me being the one begging them to never get divorced when one night i heard them fighting he would reluctantly listen to her to not cause fights. they would end up divorcing a couple years later (which THANK GOD they needed that and little me just didn’t see it).

also i remember one time she took me to some random lady’s house for some thing where it was basically an enema but hooked up to like a machine where you could see everything coming out and she said wouldn’t do it without my consent so my mom threatened to take my ipad and tv from me so i reluctantly agreed and that was the most humiliating thing i’ve ever experienced. also this lady doing this out of her house in her basement has to be illegal, RIGHT?? it feels illegal.

also around that time i started going to therapy and i don’t know if my mom interviewed or bribed this therapist or just got lucky but she agreed with my mom on EVERYTHING, including that i needed this and there was no way i could have had an eating disorder before/during this time (this is also the same lady that told me to deal with my depression i needed to “fake it ‘til i make it”)

anyways, i’ve been having nightmares about it recently and i think it’s developed from a recent trip i’ve had with her that went not great at least for me physically and emotionally, my mom isn’t strict anymore and kinda just acts like a teenager and doesn’t really ask about my life

but because of these nightmares i haven’t slept (i’m currently writing this at 3am) and that has made my boyfriend pretty concerned. i just told him that it’s about something my mom made me do when i was younger and i’d rather not discuss it at least not over text or facetime. i am ready to tell him about it so if i still have these nightmares or feel sad about it i’ll tell him next time i see him in person, but honestly i’ve never told him about it because i rarely think about it like it’s almost trauma erased, i only think about it once or twice a year.

but one thing about me is that i can get anger issues (especially when driving) and my boyfriend has been encouraging me to go to therapy, only thing is that i’m scared to get another invalidating therapist, and that has prevented me from going. i plan on explaining that to him but i guess my questions are how do i tell him everything without it being a lot all at once and have any of you had the same type of experience with therapy and how have you gotten over it?

sorry this is so long lol

TLDR: mom forced me to get enemas from what i believe is because of me gaining a stomach and being a ballet dancer, had a therapist agree with her on everything so now i have a fear of getting another invalidating therapist and because of recent nightmares i’m going to tell my boyfriend about what has happened to me. questions are how do i tell him everything without it being a lot all at once and have any of you ever had a similar experience with therapy and how did you get over it?

i originally posted this on r/suppository_trauma

also i wanted to clarify some things i forgot to include:

• they really slowed down/stopped once i quit ballet at 13/14 (which is why i believe it’s related to that)
• even tho i don’t have a close/great relationship with my mom i still love her
• i have not been able to loose the fat from my stomach being stretched out from having too much at once no matter how hard i work out and i fear it is permanent damage (but i know nothing about anything medical so if that’s not possible please let me know)

thank you for reading <3

I have a therapist who I really love and we are about to start therapy for my medical trauma and PTSD.

I’m 16 and have been dealing with this for almost 2 years now. I have developed trauma induced OCD because of it and all areas of my life are affected and I am constantly triggered.

I know it’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna be scary but does anyone have any tips for managing? Or any advice?

Tonight at dinner, my mom was talking about a kid in the second grade class she teaches. This kid is diabetic, and she was telling me and my roommate about a conversation she had with his mom. The kid has an insulin pump, but used to do the shots when he was very young. He would run from his mom and cry and beg her not to do it, but she had to or else he would die.

My mom started talking about how she had never considered that before, and how horrible it must have been to stab her kid every day to keep him alive. And how weird it must be to the kid, who has no concept of what the numbers on that monitor mean.

Maybe I’m overreacting, or maybe she didn’t wanna bring my trauma up to my roommate, but like.

My mom HAS diabetes, and she knows how it works. But also she hurt me when I could have died. She held me down while people assaulted me. I could never fully grasp why, and yet she gets so hostile and defensive when I try to talk about it.

I understand why, but it still hurts

How does one get an official Medical PTSD diagnosis? Is there one? And from who? Everyone acknowledges my PTSD lately but I want it in my file

hi! i recently got diagnosed with ptsd due to my medical trauma from repeated admissions due to my chronic illness 🌞 i’m looking for some active support groups or maybe friends that would be open to chat about their experiences with ptsd and how to deal with it, since it’s scarily new to me !!

I’ve seen something similar in the thread before but wanted to share my own story.

I went to a local PP to get my nexplanon out (I was single at the time, high anxiety, worsened depression, becoming anemic from months long bleeding etc). I wasn’t on insurance at the time and I was told I wasn’t eligible for reduced payment ~neither here nor there but added to my stress.

I was taken back to a procedure room and the nurse was lovely, made sure I was doing it by choice and not being forced etc. AMAZING nurse I just want to say.

The pa/dr came in after with lidocaine etc and injected my arm. It burned but not terribly and seconds later she cut across my arm and I told her “I can feel that” “it hurts”. She asked me if I could just get through it because it was such a short procedure. It took me by surprise a bit and made me feel like I was just being a wuss so I just shut down. (I know from previous experience that I’m a big fawn-er so I’m not surprised by this) I could feel her cutting through layers of skin and she finally finished and put a bandaid over it (also surprised by this/no stitch or skin glue etc?)

At the end of the procedure she told me I’d regret not getting on another BC immediately and that I’d learn from my poor choices. She tried to guilt me for about 15 minutes into getting an IUD but I knew I 1-couldn’t afford it and 2- didn’t think I could stand the pain from what others had told me. I left the office and cried in my car for probably 30 minutes feeling awful before I could see enough to drive home.

Still afraid at this point ~2 years later to get another BC because of the experience. :)

Both of my parents are pedo's. They openly admitted they were attracted to children. They also openly admitted they derived sexual gratification from seeing children suffer.

When I was about 4, I was demoted from child to sex object. They took away my belongings, prohibited me from speaking, would only interact with me in a sexual way, and subjected me to lots of other forms of abuse in order to facilitate the sexual abuse, and because they enjoyed watching me suffer. They would drug me and then insult me for being sick, probably doing horrible things to me when the drugs rendered me unconscious.

The doctor they took me to molested me while one of them watched and encouraged him.

When I hit my teens and got a more adult looking body, I became worthless to all of them. They told me I looked disgusting with my adult body shape and basically threw me away. The abuse got even worse.

I had no choice but to seek help. The person I told tried to drug me. I was threatened. Word got back to the abusers immediately. Then I didn't get to graduate from high school, lost access to my identifying documents, was forced to take on a massive amount of debt and then do forced labor to pay it off, they'd contact anyone in my life they could find and incite violence against me, all kinds of horrible stuff.

I actively sought help the entire time and no one cared. No one believed me. All I got was more abuse. I'm 45 now and still living like a ghost, unable to do the things most people take for granted because of this. I'm not welcome in schools or most workplaces. No one wants to date me or be my friend. I live in isolation, getting by on whatever I can, self employed. I deal with on-going efforts to harm me.

And it's all treated as a "mental health issue." Supposedly, this is all in my head and all I need is "counseling." Not basic human rights, no. I'm considered worthless because of what I've survived. Society literally supports the abusers' desire to kill me, which they have tried to do in the past. My life is supposed to be thrown away because a few people chose to molest me when I was a child.

Hi! Going out on a limb to see if anyone else’s mother had birth trauma. I’m 35f and the middle child. My mom had birth trauma with my younger sister, so this was the early 90s. My mom was unable to walk for 8 months after she had my younger sister, and the chronic pain she was left with made her immobile off and on for 25 years (she used to have to lie down for most afternoons, and she’d cancel family trips or family events at the last minute if she was in pain). Anyone else forced to grow up really fast/be the parentified daughter due to SPECIFICALLY a mother’s birth trauma?

Just wanted to share my story somewhere, maybe someone will have a similar or better experience than me but here it goes

Went to my doctor for some hip pain, and ive been nauseous for two weeks while spotting(period stuff) for the same amount of time had some headaches with it too. They took all my vitals my heart rate was about 116 resting which is high(kinda relevant i guess?) but i got up and they took me into the first room and there was no other patients in at the time, Good ill get out quickly get home after a long day of college. One of the medical students starts me off checking everything going over what my symptoms are and how long and then she got a doctor medical student? but she came in and went over it again and had me lay down and do some hip stuff to make sure i have range of motion and strength, she felt my stomach and listened to my heart and she said i was tachycardic but it was probably because of the pain in my hip or because i was nervous. Then the doctor comes in and takes some blood from a finger prick to be sure i have no infection because my temperature was a little high 99.9. but she said nothing abnormal. Then she suggested I should get my nexplanon implant taken out since its causing headaches and nausea for so long and I said yeah i didnt know that was an option but for sure. She looks at the clock and we had about thirty minutes and i said "Today?!" and she said yeah we can do it today and so i was whisked off into a procedure room. I wasn't expecting it so i was a bit freaked out obviously scared it was going to hurt. The medical student said she had it done a month ago and only the lidocaine injection hurts and then its smooth sailing. I texted my fiance telling him what was happening and how i was nervous, then someone came in and they moved the procedure chair over because it was on the left wall and my implant is in my left arm so they needed on that side. Then they started prepping me. I had to hold my arm above my head almost like someone who is leaning back casually(?) if that helps. they put the orange stuff on my arm where it would be at and put this almost puppy pee pad looking thing under my arm. Then the same medical student doctor came in and she started injecting the lidocaine which didnt really hurt maybe a little bit 2/10 pain. Then the doctor came in as she was finishing putting it in my arm. She brought more lidocaine and injected more in my arm. Then maybe 2 minutes later they started cutting. it wasnt as bad im sure as if i wasnt numbed but it hurt really bad. probably a 7/10 or 8/10 I audibly said "I can feel it" in distress and she held some cloth over it for a second and i started crying and shaking but i was still trying to stay still as best as i could. Then a minute later they kept going and i started getting very hot and sweating profusely because of the pain and i kept saying it hurts and i can feel it and finally they were done cutting, then they had to get the implant, they kept grabbing in my arm that i could still feel, then she said we need to cut more, so they did, and at this point they arent stopping so i just clench my jaw and bare through it hoping it ends soon. everything in my body is telling me to get out of this situation but there is nothing i can do, i remember it felt like it took a really long time but it could have just been the adrenaline, i was shaking and lightheaded and sweating and crying and finally the doctor switches places with the medical student after she tried to pull it out a few times and she grabs it and pulls it out and i breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing they didnt need to dig into it anymore, it was done, then they had to give me one stitch which also hurt slightly but not nearly as bad as when it started 4/10 pain. then i was trying to calm down i was still lightheaded and coming down from the adrenaline and somehow my belongings got onto the counter? i didnt put them there but i dont remember who or when they did, they took me to the waiting room and i sat in the chair for a few minutes staring at the wall trying to calm myself from the whole ordeal while they got my hip medicine. after that i went to my car and called my fiance and started bawling my eyes out before i drove home.

Thats my nexplanon implant removal story. I think it helped me a little to really think about what exactly happened and if you happen to read this, leave your story in the comments and ill read yours!

It's only now, in the middle of the night, that I realized I likely have medical trauma from my lifelong chronic constipation issues and, more severely, the multiple enemas I had to receive as a young child and preteen as a result.

I found this post which best articulates my experience and all the things I've been struggling with for years (especially stuff I'm not comfortable talking about), though I've also been struggling with intrusive thoughts about being raped and had a certain amount of paranoia from this during middle school. I've constantly wondered why I've always felt somewhat like a rape victim despite never being one.

To be a bit more graphic and personal, even as a kid, when I first learned about rape or even heard the word, I'd feel a phantom sensation of being penetrated, the exact same sensation I had when I received my first enema (as well as a slight botched one we had to have at home). I always felt confused as to why I had such a weird reaction to the topic of SA despite never being a victim. It's been weirdly comforting to realize that this experience was traumatic and it is okay to refer to it as such. That while I wasn't SA-ed, these feelings about things like sex are valid. I feel like maybe I can actually begin finding support and work on healing.

However, I have one big problem right now: my parents. I have a close bond with my parents, with my dad being someone I look to for guidance, and my mom being someone I turn to for support. Part of me wants to talk with them about this and how it has affected me mentally for years, but I'm worried about how they will react/feel. For one thing, the procedures were a last resort and medically necessary, since I had to be hospitalized and was physically unable to walk due to the pain until they finally gave the enema.

Years later, as a preteen, I ended up once again needing an enema, but this one had to be done at home. I cried and begged my mom not to give it to me, terrified and basically having a meltdown, but she insisted that there was literally no other options left. And honestly, she was right. We had tried everything and they didn't want me to be hospitalized again when they had the equipment at home. So I relented and finally let her. But it obviously didn't go great because she's not a professional. It didn't cause any severe damage, but it was much more uncomfortable than the first one.

As I said, my mom is one of my biggest emotional supports, and I love her to no end. I also know that my parents didn't want me to have these enemas, but there were no other options. Believe me, we tried. So I feel guilty about telling them how traumatic this was for me, since they saw it as them doing what was best for me, and my mom gave me one herself. I'm worried they will feel guilty about it despite me not blaming them for any of it (it was honestly no one's fault in my opinion), or that they might downplay it somewhat (again, possibly out of guilt, as they are human).

I don't know how to talk to them about this, and it's scary because I don't want to work through this alone anymore. Does anyone have any advice on how to talk about this? It'd also be nice to see others discuss their experiences with stuff like this.

Edit: So, I finally got the chance to talk to my dad, and it went a lot better than I expected. He was very calm and understanding, and when I brought up concerns about making them feel bad, he said I didn't need to worry about that, which is relieving, honestly. Turns out, my condition runs in the family, and my dad knows what it feels like to go through that experience, so he understands how it can feel traumatizing and violating even when it's medically necessary. I'm glad we're on the same page and I can begin to work through some of my issues.

I had 8 VCUG from 2 to 6 years old, and after that I experienced long lasting urinary pain and incontinence. The episodes used to be worst and more frequent during childhood and my teenager years, to the point that I wasn't able to go to school, and spended days sitting on bed sheets folded similar to a diper, feeling the urine come out painfully in small amounts, knowing that if a tried to hold it the pain would be even worst. I had even periods of time with no control of my bladder during sleep, so I used to wet my bed like a baby every night, and I was a teenager during this episodes.

That shit really ruined me, I used to feel humiliated all the time, in pain, with no hope, since I had got to doctors over and over again and they always said that there was nothing wrong. I never tought that this was psycological consequence of the VCUG untill I was an adult.

As I got older It got better, I was able to finish high School, went to college, got married, but I was still in pain and struggling with incontinence in all those years, having episodes every time I got sad or distressed. Untill this day I still experience urinary pain frequently.

I recently found a website about other people who had VCUG as a child, but the majoritie of them have sex/relationship related issues (such vaginism). I didn't found anyone who developed the same problems I did. Untill few days ago only my parents really knew this part of my life, but I decide to talk about It because I need to know If I'm the only one who has this kind of damage from the procedure.

So, If you had VCUG as a child and experience something similar to me, please let me know.