I just saw my biological mother on the way home in a taxi she didn't see me. This women was one of my abusers and I thought I had moved on from being angry about it.

I haven't this women is part of the reason I have CPTSD this women made my blood boil just looking at her. I wanted to ask the taxi to stop I wanted to cave her head in until she was nothing but gore on the pavement I wanted to end her for what she did to me.

I didn't make the taxi stop I carried on home I want to punch holes in walls I want to mentally and physically destroy her she has my hair cut now I want to remove her from existence. She doesn't deserve to be able to walk let alone breath. I hurt I am angry I am fine until I see her or my biological father then I just want to bury them underground smother them the way they make me feel Everytime I see them the flash backs they cause every god damn time I see them.

I hate them...I am better than that but until they are underground I know this is the reaction they get out of me. I hate it...I hate being controlled by them even though we haven't spoken or seen eachother in 10 years. I don't want them to have this power over me I don't want to hurt when I see them I don't want flashbacks and I don't want to bubble up with anger. Everything from CBT to counselling. I don't want to have thoughts of them I don't want to want to put the evil I feel towards them out into the universe.

I know that I must abide by the law of three fold it's just incredibly hard I have to go back out I have to go and get my ferrets some chicken I can't see her again I don't want to see her ever again she moved away from here only to come back to work here to work with children when she abused me physically, mentally, emotionally. It's not right she shouldn't be allowed near kids.

I'm dissociating my brain has put me in calm mode it can't deal with the destruction and hurt I feel it can't deal with the anger I feel nothing just a bubbling under the surface I can't quite reach down and touch...I can feel myself getting tired then adrenaline is wearing off the fatigue is starting to set in. I saw a flutter by I know it's the lady I called Mom who passed away 4 years this year telling me she is by my side. I miss her...She was the one person I could tell anything too and she wouldn't judge just listen she would say your my English daughter, she would say I love you and that everything will be okay baby girl.

So here’s my little spiel of a story. I used to get often abused as a child, so much so I was always acting out and doing everything people asked me to do.

That’s not what the main focus is today. That is just my vulnerability factor into the real issue occurring.

I took this job at the age of 17, it was a job in a specific hospital setting. It was most definitely an adult job for a young person like I was. At first I didn’t think the job was too bad, even though I was very afraid of the bosses and people above me in the setting. I used to love my patients, they were sweet, and did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet some of them would sexually harass me and verbally flirt with me, a minor at the time, I felt quite uncomfortable.

Over the summer, I had to continue working for money reasons. Yet there were some nurses and other people that started manipulating me into doing things I was not supposed to do and work extensive hours. (16+ hours a day.) Also I was doing extensive work, having a lot assigned to me in very little time frame. Eventually, I get very burnt out and couldn’t function at work that well anymore from all the hours and days that I worked. My life only revolved around that job, it was scary because I found no way out of it.

With being very manipulative, my boss would say things to me along the lines of “You’ll never find a boss like me anywhere.” Or “Other people would have fired you or took away your payroll by now.” I was in a horrible situation where I would cry everyday after my shifts and have constant anxiety attacks, I was always on my guard when seeing anyone older than me or of more authority than me. I was being emotionally brought down for months on end, every single day. I couldn’t even have taken a sick day off from work without the boss demanding me to bring in proof that I was actually sick from a damn urgent care. Not to mention, patients were still harassing me and even laid hands/verbally yelled in my face everyday. Now I know what you’re going to say…. “Nurses go through that all the time, stop being so dramatic.” And also constant yelling.

I was 17. I was still in high school.. it wasn’t acceptable for a practical child to be treated in that environment. Plus it gave me such a horrible outlook on ever having any other potential jobs. So a couple months ago, I got admitted into a psychiatric hospital for these odd symptoms of suicide and hallucinations I’ve been having. I told the doctors about everything I was subjected to, there on they diagnosed me with PTSD from this incident. Ever since my diagnosis, voices in my head and nightmares would get considerably worse everyday, to the point where I was hospitalized for 5 months. 4 different admissions. I was constantly trying to flee, run, and argue with staff about these voices telling me I’m a worthless person. To the point, where I had to be restrained and locked in a room by myself.

My family figured out what had really gone on at that workplace and said to everyone that I would not be returning to work. Yet the boss still thinks I’m going to come back eventually. It’s scary, the nightmares, the flashbacks, everything.

This is my story, it’s not an acute event nor a disaster, yet I was only 17. I was only 17 doing what people go to college to do. I was 17 and working double the more hours than legal. I was 17 and being abused at a workplace.

Protect Child Labor Laws.

Something bizarre Guys, something bizarre happened to me. I have always been heterosexual with a very strong attraction to women. I have always had a masculine personality and face. But now my brain has created a female personality. In my last relationship, I dated a girl with disorders. She manipulated me and tried to make me feel less of a man than others, she kept putting me down, saying she was going to have sex with others. One day she said that my tool was smaller than her ex's (and mine isn't small) At that moment I felt a traumatic feeling, because I wasn't used to relationships... Now I can't stay in my masculine personality and I started to get excited about wearing feminine clothes. I can no longer be attracted to women It's as if she had traumatized me with the fear of stopping being a man and becoming something feminine... that's what I felt at the time, as if she wanted to make me feel less of a man than the others. My concern: if trauma cannot be cured, how will I get back to normal? And how do I identify what exactly the trauma was? Because I don't know if it was really a trauma, because when I remember that I don't feel scared

I constantly want to sleep and don't feel the motivation to do anything even if I've had a night of uninterrupted sleep. Some days I have to sleep almost the entire day, spending all day in bed, not wanting to leave, just lying there till I come out to eat at night and still feel like crap, I can't keep living like this... It's starting to weigh heavily on me and I really want to see if there's anything I can do about it. Started therapy and seeing the psych again soon but I really don't know what to do in the meantime so if anyone has any advice on how to stop me from wanting to sleep the pain and stress away everyday, that would be really nice.

Also if you're wondering why I'm posting this here, it was cos of the daignosis and this habit kinda only happened once PTSD started to overtake my life and make just the act of surviving day to day just so much harder. I just hope one day I get better even if it takes years. In the meantime, any help I can get or tips to manage it is good enough for me.

I just want to say first - I am a highly sensitive guy with a very active and on-guard nervous system.

I have been dealing with fear of the dark my whole life. I constantly anticipate something lurking in the shadows and always think something is going to scare me. I can hardly do little things like shower, brush my teeth or go to bed without being petrified of something or someone popping out to scare me. I watched several jumpscare videos (without knowing they were coming) as a kid and they scared the living piss out of me. Like so utterly petrified that I could not sleep and I would shake and panic. My friends laughed at one and I was just utterly terrfied. They all fell asleep while I stayed up in a state of shock replaying the sound and image in my mind.

Fast forward like 16 years and now here I am still scared of the dark and replaying very creepy images and mental movies. So much so that I cannot sleep or even enjoy the quiet night at all. This happens during the day too. Its a living nightmare.

Any suggestions on how to overcome?

A short background because it’s honestly too many things to go into. I started as a deputy when I was 23. I started as a cadet for the sheriffs office at 18, my first call I witnessed a guy put a 30-06 in his mouth and paint the tree behind him. Within my first year full time was involved In a shooting. First year chased a burglary suspect that carjacked two people and stabbed both. Had to watch a teenage girl burn to death screaming in a car and there was nothing we could do, we couldn’t get her out, couldn’t get the fire out, and her screams are burned in my brain, a 16 year old kid, on the way to school, never made it, and all you can do is watch, hear her scream until there was silence and then the fire department was finally able to get there, minutes too late. Numerous suicide calls. Two of them are seared into my mind. First was on Easter one year I got a call from Sgt asking me and the senior shift deputy to respond to a suicide that was a friend of his. The wife wore ear plugs and outer ear muffs because her husband snored so loud, anyways, the husband shot himself in the bed at night with a 38 to the head and the brain matter was all in her hair, she didn’t know until the kids ran in to wake up the parents for Easter baskets, dad of course didn’t wake up. The second was a 14yr old foster kid whose foster parents went to a movie on a super cold night and came out to not be able to find him. I found him in the back yard, he had hung himself with a dog leash on the swingset to the point to where to do so he had to consciously hold his legs off the ground until he had asphyxiated. Who knows how many other shit calls. But one other that still haunts me was my first child sexual torture. Was a 6 year old little girl whose grandmother called. Her POS dad would put a butter knife to a propane torch and insert it into her, put cigarettes out on her, and slice her private areas. As I went outside to the car to call Sgt and do the report, she ran up to me and demanded that I take her teddy bear in thanks for helping her. This was a decade before I had my own children, and I remember going out to the car and bawling like a baby.

These are the gist. I spent 12 years in law enforcement, worked everything from patrol, investigations, warrants, and ended in the schools as a resource officer. I never had a problem with the violent calls, the shots fired. In fact, those calls I felt most calm, I felt like it was my place because I knew what to expect, I could flick off the emotions and handle whatever came. What ended up getting me was death. The breaking point I was attempting to serve a civil paper and the house looked abandoned. I said, hell I’ll do my due diligence and make sure. As I walked around the back I saw in the window out of the corner of my eye a rope hanging from a ceiling fan, clothes, and a chair kicked over. I’d seen so many hangings before, in my mind I knew that’s what it was. But I couldn’t bring myself to confirm, I couldn’t see it anymore. I had to call my best friend on shift to look. All I could do was go back to my unit and just feel this broken helplessness. It turned out some kids had “hanged” a mannequin and it wasn’t a real person.

I spent the next 3 years after that in the schools and loved it, but I still hated my profession, because it had warped my life, affected every aspect of it irregardless of what I did. I ended up on meds, and ended up taking a job within emergency management and currently love that job.

On to the struggle or rather the question. As many of you know, even with meds the ptsd is still there. I ended up developing issues with loud noises and other things that I never had a problem with when I wore a badge.

I found myself drinking more now than ever. Not so much as an escape, but because I need to feel what I remember, or what’s burned in my brain. Have you had issues where you “know” what you’ve been through, you know how that should affect you and what emotions it should produce, yet you’re not able to get those emotions out that you feel you need to? For example, you are having a bad day of all those memories coming back and their taking over. You want so bad to break down, bawl, and yet it’s like you’re reading a book that someone else experienced it. You question is it real? Why do I have these memories and this pit inside of me that wants to get these things out and break down but it just won’t come out. When I say this I don’t mean it in a positive way that you’ve healed and the trauma no longer bothers you, I mean it grips you but you can’t release or invoke the physical response of what is the turmoil inside of you. I try to tell my wife the video morgan wallen made to “cover me up” is the closest to how life feels a lot of the time. And I can understand how people want to go back, because as fucked up as the experience, war/tour, job was, it made sense when you were in the grind. When you’re out, you’re alien to yourself, things are different, you’re different, it’s impossible to be normal or what society expects out of you. You’re stuck in between hating it for what it stole from you and did to you and longing for it to be back because in its own fucked up realm, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

I’m sorry for the long read, it’s just not something that’s easy to paraphrase.

I have been diagnosed with PTSD after being abused by my older sister and husband while living with them. It's been a few years and I have been seeing a therapist, but I recently moved and need to find a new one, so I have no help from a therapist currently. I have been given Trazadone to help me sleep at night due to having nightmares about the events that went down. I usually wake up sweating with my heart racing and chest feeling tight, like I can't breathe. I have recently started having episodes like this again but after very vivid violent nightmares (being stalked, hunted, and killed) that are unrelated to the trauma I experienced. It is also now affecting me when I am awake. I am very on edge and having panic attacks due to feeling like im not safe in real life due to these very realistic nightmares. Today while walking my dog I was constantly looking over my shoulder and panicking and terrified everytime I heard the slightest noise. Has anyone else experienced this? Is this due to the PTSD? How did you take care of it?

TW*

basically when I was 14 my dad passed away from cancer & I watched him die. ever since then I have had flashbacks, anxiety, depression etc. and have been in therapy consecutively for two almost three years. I was diagnosed with PTSD, ADHD, GAD, & MDD. a lot of my problems are dissociating, flashbacks, etc but specifically I feel like my brain doesn’t know how to act when I hear someone passed. even if they’re not close to me, my brain immediately shuts down, I have to leave work/whatever environment I’m in and it takes over a day to process my own emotions and having flashbacks over and over again of my dads last moments. today I had news that an old friend in high school passed. we weren’t close at all, just one of those friends where we like each others things, have had a couple convos etc. but it literally had me crying for hours, I had slept for over 5 hours and still just overall can tell my brain has been a lot mentally today. I guess I just needed to get this out.

for context i have ptsd from sexual trauma and long-term psychological abuse. I’m everal years into my PTSD healing journey, and I’ve been doing really well lately. The only thing is, the past couple weeks i’ve been having these crazy panic attack freak out things where I like scream and cry and like want to break things and often throw things or like bang on the floor… it’s really scary and idk what to do with it. am i crazy?? what is going on does anyone else experience this and if so do you have any insight into what’s up with me….

PREFACE

The following is written like a story, but it is 100% true. I'm waiting to start with my new therapist in a couple of weeks and in the meantime I'm desparately trying to find a way to combat how I feel. Thank you for reading, and if you would like to add your thoughts to this, please do. But I should add a trigger warning now: the content of this post may not be suitable for some. It involved some rather heavy stuff related to divorce, self harm, car accidents, and the like.

In the Beginning

From the day I was born, it seems as though death has followed me. I stopped breathing during birth and the doctor pulled me out, resulting in tortecollis. I spent the earliest days of my life in physical therapy. Several broken bones and what not since then, we are brought to where everything really begins.

It's March 12, 2011. 9:00 p.m. There's a knock at the door. It's a social worker and a deputy. The social worker questions me about my half sister, mostly about whether she has a history of making things up. I tell her yes, small things though. The social worker then goes on to inform my father that my half sister is saying he abused her. None of this is true. This would mark the beginning of a multi-year custody battle between her mother and my father. For the record, her mother coached her into believing she was abused. She weaponized her. It wouldn't take long before she attempted to use my half-sister against anyone in my family that she could. The culminating point was the day I last remember seeing her-- speaking to her, having anything to do with her. August 2012. "Go to your room and stay there." I was told. Another social worker knocks on my door and comes in. She asks much of the same questioning that the first one asked. I tell her the same thing. I watch them take my sister. I watch them put her in that car and drive off. Her mother won. And then everything began to fall apart. I lived for weeks after fear that I was next. The arguments that broke out between my parents because of this were... scary. There's one that I witnessed directly that is seered into my mind, but I won't go into detail.

Fast forward to 2017. I come home from school. The air in the house is clearly off, but I say nothing of it. "We're getting a divorce." I was floored. Scared. I explicitly remember waking up each morning after that trying not to sob. Suddenly, everything I knew was gone. My home? Also gone. Time for me and my dad to move in with my grandparents while we wait for whatever was next.

I fly down (alone, as a 14 y/o) to Florida that Summer to visit my mom. After I get to the airport and we exchange greetings the first thing she says to me is, "Hold on, let me call my boyfriend." I'm sorry, who? I knew nothing of this guy. And while I like him well enough now, the thoughts that entered my mind in the moment were less that enthusiastic.

I Shouldn't Have Survived...

Now for the namesake of this post.

The Date: October 3, 2024. My eyes open, groggy and blurry. My vision clears up and I see my father. I'm not sure where I am. "What happened?" I ask my father. "You were in a bad car accident, son." I didn't really process that because of all the pain killers I was on at the time. As I slowly regain some degree of cognition, I begin to ask for more details. I get those details. The other driver ran a stop sign at a high rate of speed just as I was entering the intersection. Trees covered the stretch of road leading up to the intersection, so it was impossible to see her coming. It was bad enough for both of us to be airlifted to the hospital. I was placed on a ventilator for two days. Thankfully, both of us survived. I saw a picture of my car after the accident. Frankly, I'm not really sure how I lived. The week I spent in the hospital is blurry, but I still remember it. It still bothers me to think about it.

I was out of school for a month and a half. I remember thinking to myself that if it had killed me I wouldnt have to deal with any of what I had to deal with then. Keeping up with school (university) and getting back to work were both a challenge. I shouldn't have survived. But I did.

The Aftermath

To this day, I have flashbacks of when my sister was taken and from the accident (although the accident is specifically two moments: the moment the other driver's car entered the intersection and the moment EMS ran up to my car and asked "can you hear me?" The next thing I remember vividly is waking up and asking my dad what happened). I've had several panic attacks because of both. I thought I was making significant progress prior to the accident. But now, I don't know anymore. I'm on antidepressants now, and while they help, there's still a lot I need to deal with in therapy.

I lost my joy for performing (I'm a pianist). I lost my passion for teaching music. And even though the former is back, it doesn't feel the same as it did before the accident. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't recognize the person looking back in the mirror. I had trust issues and abandoment issues before, but they became even worse after the accident. The mood swings were godawful. They still happen, but to a lesser degree now thanks to the meds. I still feel empty and purposeless. I had cut myself prior, but it came back. I didn't really care about anything anymore. I just wanted to be done with school. My performance and competition drive eventually came back, but they feel tainted.

I had a few weeks after I started the meds where I felt much more confident and calm. And while I don't feel as bad now-- as anxious or depressed, I still need to take the time to find out who I am... again. I thought I had that all figured out eight months ago, but I don't now. That scares me. A lot. Before, I felt as thought my personality often matched who I was around or where I was, but now I feel like it's fractured. Like there are two "mes." There's one side of me that's well put together and determined, and then there's the other side of me that could care less about anything... "yolo," if you will. The former speaks with a much different accent than the latter. But they aren't separate identities like DID. I'm not really sure how to describe it.

Closing

I write all of this to tell my story. I hope that you can find some solace in the fact that you're not alone. Whether this is PTSD or something else, there is one thing I know to be true. It is said that knowing a demon's name gives you power of it. I apply that logic here. It is very much the same thing.

Thank you for reading.

Hi guys, just had a question about a symtpom.

Just in case someone tries to correct me on terminology, I will say that multiple terms have been used for the experience that I'm asking about: Amygdala hyperactivity, Prefrontal hypoactivity, Hyperarousal, Hyperviligance, Fight or Flight, but the one I'm most familiar with is the Amygdala hijack.

Now that that's out of the way, I have a question about this experience. During a severe amygdala hijack, it is apparent that the Prefrontal cortex becomes impaired, or can even shut down. Now, with this being said, I have a question for you guys who have experienced a severe amygdala hijack before.

During an "episode" of this, did you guys still experience intrusive thoughts? Not so much intrusive memories, but moreso intrusive thoughts about the future, or maybe the situation at hand. I'm curious if this is a symtpom of amygdala hijacks. And if so, how do you react to them in this "state". What does it feel like Inside to go through something like this?

I'm sure people experience these things differently, but I'm curious.

Looking for support or personal experiences on how to deal with this.

Background: SA when young - repressed until mid 20s. Not disclosed to anyone apart from two psychs. Nearly 40 now. Never any issues with gyno procedures because I am conscious and aware of what is happening to me so it doesn’t stress me in the slightest.

Problem. I had to get a hysteroscopy and diagnostic dc for heavy period. They also wanted to insert a iud. First gyno refused to undertake procedure until I lost significant amount of weight. Second Dr agreed but only if I went under GA. I tried to fight to just have pain meds or spinal but no one would listen or trust me that I would get through it. Weight and not having children were reasons given.

I was not coping well before but was told to stop catastrophising. I was told I had a choice which was to leave the growths or do what the doctors said. I gave in. I did not disclose SA nor was I asked. GA experience was bad. Stroke level blood pressure on emergence, lost voice for four days due to tubes, declined cognitive function/side effects for a month.

I have had really bad stabbing pain since I got the iud inserted two months ago. I called gyno week after and nurse said let it settle, I wasn’t use to it because I haven’t had kids and if it was something bad I wouldn’t be able to speak to her. She said call back in a week if it’s still bad. I did. I got told gyno was on holiday and replacement doc was only seeing pregnant women or if I was bleeding out.

I have my placement check in a week and a half. I’m having terror response. I can’t fathom going back to that office or gyno. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I called to ask how long the appointment would be and what it would be, receptionist said abdominal ultrasound. I think I can get through that but nothing else.

Anyone experienced something similar? What did you do?

My PTSD comes from a childhood of being abused mentally/emotionally/verbally that sort of thing not physical and sometimes I find myself thinking "what if I'm just being dramatic" or "what if I just made it all up in my head" even though I know for a fact it actually happened.

Hi, I have had a lot of trauma in my life probably not as much as most but I have had it. From major deaths of very dear people to sexual assaults, rapes, physical attacked by predators and my own mother it’s been rough….anyway, I was talking with my therapist today and discovered through my traumas I depersonalize a lot (I never I dissociated but not this much!) and that I have a really hard time trusting my body! I have some health issues and I have a hard time bringing myself to the doctor unless I’m bleeding out my eyes or a limb is off! I don’t trust my brain because I’m also Bi-Polar and ADHD and such - how can I trust a brain that so broken? I feel like my entire body and mind is working against me? Is there a way to trust and work to trust my body again?

A lot of it does come from the outside world like my mother(yes I know) but it comes from my needs not being met as a child and my assaults as a young adult and adult. But I feel like it’s all my faults as well like I’m all wired wrong or just a broken person - why trust a car if it keeps breaking down?

Songs that played actively during this traumatic event of mine makes me have intense flashbacks. Keep in mind that this situation was prolonged over a course of a few months and even now( it’s a death in the family). Every time I hear a song that reminds me of this time I feel a wave of sickness and freeze. I get extremely uncomfortable, almost to a point of passing out. Members of my family play these songs and talk about this person and the situation in front of me, and it’s not like I can leave or bluntly ask them to stop( though sometimes I do, but they do it anyway). I eventually suck it up and ride out the feeling. I’ve tried to see if anyone experiences the same as me on here( by looking up post), but turns out no one mentioned this.

Am I being morbid and dramatic?

Out of nowhere... Where the fuck

As per the title, I (25F) found myself suddenly recovering memories, albeit very fragmented, of childhood sexual abuse. I can't even use the R word, although that's what I recall happening because it makes it feel too real. I've been going to a psychiatrist for about 8 or 9 years, and suffered from and diagnosed with a host of issues like major depression, GAD, social anxiety, and was eventually diagnosed with being on the autism spectrum. For reference, I've had a traumatic childhood due to being in a fairly abusive household, with aggressive family members, which added to the pain I've constantly been in. Last summer, I started to experience these horrific bouts of sleep paralysis on a daily basis, and often several times in one night. It began with seeing monstrous figures, sometimes people I know, and I would feel something pressing very tightly on my chest and suffocating me as if they're trying to kill me. Gradually, the physical manifestations of the sleep paralysis turned into being touched sexually, like in my intimate regions, my breasts being touched, my underwear being moved and touched through, my bedsheets lifting off. I'd wake up screaming don't touch me. There would be times where it would all be so realistic, that I would wake up, fake staying asleep, and suddenly lunge at the person I thought was touching me. I'm incredibly ashamed to admit, there have been several times where the person I thought I saw was touching me was my brother and, with whom I was living at the time. In those bouts, he'd be saying shhh and walking away after I've woken up. I have absolutely no sexual feelings for him, the thought of that is disgusting and vile. I also have never experienced any gross physical contact from him at all. I should add that living with him was stressful because he was hostile in a very passive aggressive way, and showed no consideration or care for me, even when I would get sick. There would be times where we would get along, but he turned very callous and frigid since last year.

Months go by, and I'm suddenly catapulted with this odd fragmented memory of me as a child pressed up violently against a wall by an adult male. I believe I was 6 or 7 years old. I remember that it was in a house that was in the middle of construction, nearly finished as far as the basics went. The memory was triggered, I believe, by the smell of cement because thete was a small bit construction being done by the building I was living in. I tried to block it off as nothing, but my body immediately went into shock. I started hyperventilating, shaking entirely, and crying uncontrollably. Over the next few months, some things started making more sense and more bits started to emerge. For example, whenever I'd pass by the street of that area, there was shortcut that cut straight to my parents' house, but I never went through it. I would see it and pass by it very quickly, heart pounding, and my brain would tell don't go through there. It sounds stupid, but I didn't think to rationalize it at all. In fact, I remember walking by there when I was 21, and I still had the same feeling. Another thing that's making sense is my pure discomfort with nudity and intimacy of any kind. Like, I started showering naked for the first time when I was 18, and till this day, I still can't look at myself in the mirror, or change in front of anyone, including my female family members. It makes more sense why I'm completely repulsed by anyone touching me, even as a friendly gesture, unless I explicitly initiate it. I've also been extremely hypervigilant all my life. I jump at every sudden sound or movement, even in my sleep. I'm still plagued with nightmares, and often wake up terrified. When someone opens my bedroom door while I'm asleep, I immediately jump out of bed screaming. I'm completely shattered by this, and feel like I can't go on any longer. I thought my traumatic childhood was fucked up, but when you add this, it feels like the final nail in the coffin. I was 2 years into studying abroad when these memories started to crash into my mind, and I was a great student with potential. Since then, I abandoned my studies completely and unceremoniously dropped out. This is coming from someone who was incredibly passionate, and studied in the summer by choice. None of my family members know, and all they care about is me writing my thesis while I'm staying with them for now. They've been supporting me financially while I was away, and they'd be furious to find out that it was all for nothing. They (except for my sister who knows the absolute bare minimum) also don't know anything about this, and I can't tell them. These news would thwart my mother, and possibly kill my father who has a chronic illness that gets triggered by stress. I feel like a fraud because sometimes I think what if I'm making it up, although my body viscerally disagrees, but I persist in punishing myself. I feel like a failure and a burden to everyone around me, and just wish that I was never real. My thoughts are filled with nothing but wanting to end it all. Does anyone else feel like this? How have you dealt with abrupt trauma memory recovery? And can anyone of you confirm or deny that what happened to me was real? I feel like I've gone mad.

I’ve recently had the most amazing things happen to me and literally have everything I want in life right now but I keep getting the intrusive thought that it’s because something terrible is gonna happen etc :( I have PTSD and OCD but thought it was more aligned for this sub

Any tips? Right now I’m just trying to stay positive and appreciating everything I have :)

My brother is getting married here soon and my other brother that was abusive to me and is the reason i have PTSD is going to be there. how do i handle seeing him and being around him? my friend has told me to stand my ground and try to distants myself from him as much as possible. does anyone have any advice?

I also have a service dog in training to help me with this

I was diagnosed with PTSD several years ago when I took care of my spouses parent on hospice. Long story short, his brother physically assaulted me, made accusations and turned my world upside down.

For the last several years, I have been ok. A few weeks ago, spouses siblings...2 this time showed up at the house (parents now dead). I locked them out, they broke windows and I am back to where I was before...no sleep and breathing in bags.

Does ptsd ever go away?

Good night guys Could anyone answer a question I've always had? I've always heard that trauma has no cure, that there's no way to erase it. But I never understood that If the trauma has an emotional component (feeling) and has the memory (the scene of the situation in your head), which part would not be possible to erase? And another thing... if I have a trauma, but nothing happened, I simply have a fear of spiders, would it be possible to erase that fear, right? Bearing in mind that I have no "memory" of something that happened, but rather fear conditioning

About 3 months ago we started a sober lifestyle, in preparation for his self-work and tx for PTSD. Previously he was using alcohol as a coping mechanism. Since he has stopped drinking he has withdrawn a little bit but has been very communicative about dealing with things emotionally that he has avoided for many years.
He started his counseling for PTSD and has VA assistance tx program set up to start soon.
On Monday he told me that he has been feeling a lot of anxiety about us living together when he starts working through his PTSD. He said he needs space to process everything and he's worried that things will be very bad between us if we are living together. He is planning on renting a separate home with his adult son. He says he loves me and wants to maintain a healthy relationship with me but he needs his own space to do that while he is facing his demons.

I feel confused and pushed away. He is a wonderful partner and this is the first time I have ever felt hurt in our relationship. I know it was difficult for him to make this decision and to talk to me about it.
I want to give him the support that he needs but I don't know what that looks like. I am having trouble finding any resources in my area for partners of Vets with PTSD. I'm scared of losing the best relationship I’ve ever had, I have been sad and anxious since we talked. I don't really know where I stand or how to be around him. I don't want to make things uncomfortable and I don't want to take things personally but I need to learn some skills and figure out how to be the right kind of supportive.

TW: I had a PTSD episode while having sex. I broke down crying inside of her. That’s how I lost my virginity. She was basically a stranger and i made the decision to sleep with her for no fucking reason. She pressured me into it and i eventually caved. I broke down crying and she kept on fucking me. She saw it and everything. I froze. I completely froze and there’s nothing I could’ve done. 3 years later she’s messaging me, asking how I’ve been (I know she only wants sex). I’ve had a hard time doing anything sexual with people since then because of that experience. I’ve done EMDR for it but the memories still linger. I blocked her on everything: if you guys know what I could do….tell me

This sub has helped me, so I wanted to give something back lol.

So I've been at the worst of energy levels where my appetite for food is nil. A lot of the time, I can't even taste what I'm eating unless it's got a strong flavour - which is bad because I then gravitate towards things that do taste of something, usually salty or very sweet.

During some of my worst times, I literally can't bring myself to cook night after night. I've made it through the day on a single packet of biscuits. I've made it through the day on three single biscuits. Too much information, I know, but I almost >!ended up in hospital thinking I was dying but it was just severe constipation from not eating - to the point where I could feel the literal rock-hard poo pressing against my ribcage and was having trouble breathing and sleeping. Legit thought it was like, stage 4 cancer lol, they did a CT scan and everything and found.... a massive shit :P My large bowel size was concerning, apparently.!<

This is the 'solution' for this energy/cooking issue that I found - it may help some of y'all. Please note - I was living alone, and only had myself to support. If you have kids, that might not apply here, but you can certainly adjust if you need to.

What's the best, most comforting taste that also has the benefit of me being able to taste it??? >!Tomato tomato tomatooooooo.!<

Recipe/idea:

Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight what you're gonna do is this:

1. get the biggest pan you have, one that will fit a week's food.
2. dump in PRE-CHOPPED tomatoes, PRE-COOKED meatballs (from like Lidl or Aldi), red/green/yellow diced peppers, 1 can of PRE-PEELED new potatoes, 1 tin of pre-chopped carrots, 400ml of vegetable stock water, chuck in a handful of mixed herbs and pepper, 2 jars of tomato sauce (not ketchup lmaooo pls). Side note: be careful with mushrooms, as they used to go mouldy really quickly :L
3. Stir for 1 hour on the hob.
4. Put into lunch boxes into the fridge, or put the whole pot in the fridge. Serve hot or cold depending on your energy levels.

Mix and match ingredients if u want. You can eat straight out of the pan if you have to, have it with buttered bread or baguette slice, eat with a spoon, and the best part is that you can literally fucking drink it like a soup if you absolutely want.

Basically post-hospital visit, I had this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for weeks and it never got boring. You can also do this with corned beef tins (include worcestershire sauce) and it's so good. The whole week's food cost is like less than £25, and this dish ticks off vegetables, meat, carbohydrates in one go.

Of course, you can also order a takeaway, but this method makes me feel less shit lmaooo.

Hope this helps!!

I don’t know how to move past all the trauma I’ve endured. I “lost my virginity” at 18 by SA. My first boyfriend at 20 SAd me again. I was also SAd by my cousin when I was about 4-5 years old, but I had forgotten about it (a repressed memory) until working in therapy about my other SAs. I’ve now been diagnosed with PTSD. It’s been 8 years since I was SAd at 18, and yet it still feels like yesterday. It affects my personal life and my sex life with my husband. I know he is not satisfied sexually but having sex literally triggers me. I feel guilty we don’t have sex often. I try to do it anyway so I can be a good wife, but then I hate myself even more. My “traumaversary” is coming up soon, which is 2 weeks after my birthday. I haven’t enjoyed a birthday, graduation, Mother’s Day, or any other May event in 8 years. Honestly I feel like I don’t enjoy anything anymore. I feel like this will never go away. It feels like I’m broken beyond repair. I can’t imagine living for 50 more years like this. I’m 25 and I hate being here every day.

Does it ever get better?

Do the nightmares ever stop?

Do I ever feel clean?

Does anyone know why it feels good to spoil yourself. I always keep going back to the idea of wanting to ‘spoil’ myself in order to ease the pain of ptsd. Anyone ever had a similar feeling to this?

When you sit and try to tell your story, you always have to find a beginning, you need to create a path that shows the progression and growth of the characters within the story. Build up to the climax and then slowly slide back down the hill into the valley where the story goes to die. All stories just like the people that tell them, the people that lived them, must die.So where should I begin? Maybe the first time I died? Maybe the last time I died? Wherever it is the story begins, it is just the rebirth of an ending that already happened before. In half a century of life I had been in a coma 3 times, and had my heart broken so badly I wished I could have been permanently in a coma at least 1 more.

I was born the child of a mountain man that joined the military and a coastal woman that didn't need to wish to be a California girl. The Vietnam war was the backdrop to the beginnings of this blossoming family, but the family was very much a broken entity right from the very beginning, already doomed due to the difference of my parents age and the difference in location of both parents family support systems. Crossing country with multiple duty station changes led to us leaving the military 3 years later and settling down in the mountains with the rest of my fathers family and working in the place where his family had worked for generations. A good Union job, solid income and a house, it looked like it was going to be our own little piece of the American dream, but even as my mother got pregnant with her second child, the decay of our family was already spreading its rot through everything my parents came in contact with. Slowly the accusations of affairs are launched first by one parent then the other. A child recieves a gift from a man that spends an awful lot of time with his mother while his father is at work, his father going out each night after work to a place where everyone knows hims name and several ladies from his past that have slept with him are always hanging around. A little boy and his infant brother hear the yells, they cry at night, there is fear creeping through the veins of the entire family unit, but there is no power for the children to cling to in order to feel safe. Three years of hell, the union plant closes and kills the economy of the entire community. His father is drunk every night, his mother is chasing her next lay and her next high, their marriage finally ends in a final abusive outburst and physical lashing out by his father. It is done, the marriage is over, and all the boy will ever really know is abuse for more than the next decade.

It's funny when you ask a person what their earliest memory is, how far back and what type of memory from their childhood each person can pull up. I am both blessed and cursed because I remember a lot of things from my childhood, and can embrace the thoughts of being a 2 year old being read to by a group of service members entertaining a small child, but mostly, the memories that haunt me and are the most vivid in my minds eyes are filled with pain and violence. Pain, lots and lots of pain, pain from neglect, of hearing your mom in the next room, behind a simple lock, a lock that a couple years later I will pick and open up and leads me to my first real death. The death of innocence, the death of the ability to ever really trust, the death of sanity as my family is torn completely apart and we are thrust into a hospital and then foster care. I still wish inside my heart to this day that we had never been returned home and I hope that my foster family is happy and healthy, because they loved me at a time when I really needed love. They were my first real beacon of joy in my terribly destructive world. And as I grew older, I realized there was no one more destructive in my life than I was. Well, with the exception of my mother, but with my mother I could have said that I needed my mother’s love and acceptance, I needed her to quit destroying me with all of her manipulations.

    My parents went through a divorce when I was 7 and both of them had started waging what could only be described as a war of mutual assured destruction of every aspect of their lives. My father became a very heavy drinker with a trigger temper and willingness to embrace violence. My mother became a manipulative alcoholic and drug abuser that wielded other people against each other for her pleasure and results that she wished to achieve. I swear she partied with every man who said they hated my father for one reason or another, but normally because of sex because my father was a legendary lecher. I had to listen to stories about how many women he picked up over the years, but it was hilarious, I resented him for his adulterous behavior but I already knew my mother was cheating on him, though I didn’t understand it. I was probably my mother’s best tool during that time period in our lives. I was very protective and hated the feeling of fear my father wielded in his anger and aggression, his penchant for yelling and trying to humiliate people who piss him off. I earned his punches at 6 years old because I stood up to him as a man so he treated me like a man. I never forgave him for the first broken nose or the permanent scarred lips from those punches.                                               

          But as bad as my father was during those days, my mother brought satan himself into my life. She was cycling through men and nightly parties, sleeping in and forcing me to feed my brother and get myself out the door and on the bus headed to school. We lived on government assistance, my father was paying for the house, so her funds were limited, and I had to steal food stamps from her purse to buy food to keep us alive or she would sell the food stamps for cash to buy drugs, and food stamps were printed on paper like Monopoly money in those days. My mother also used sex to get what she wanted and needed, which didn’t end at her just her sexual relations. I didn’t understand that I was currency in my mother’s life, and that part of our life developed later, but it found its start during this time frame. We had 2 years of parties, 2 years of men, 2 years of being the boy who had to be the man child and raise up and protect a toddler and his mother, then entered Satan 

       By the time I was about 9 mother had been in a semi stable relationship with Satan for almost a year when he unleashed hell upon my body. There had been abuse, he had done things to destroy my defiant nature, beat me and berated me, even used me as a tool to punish my brother. He hung my brother wrapped in a sheet by his ankles from the rafters and made me use my brother as a body bag. I refused and so he would punch me until I punched my brother. I became my brothers abuser, didn’t matter that I was tortured into it, but finally it all came crumbling down when my friend broke a tree branch on a neighbors cherry tree and I refused to snitch on who did what. Satan decided he would break me that day. He broke his crafted spanking paddle on my backside, he broke his leather belt, he bound the paddle back together with his broken belt and broke it on my backside again. He had stripped me naked before he started the beating and I think my mother cheering him on had done something for him, encouraged him, but I felt his weight pressing down on my back as he tore my hole open and used my broken body as my mother told me how much I deserved everything I was getting. I was no longer able to move, to respond, to cry, I don’t even think I was fully aware of my body anymore, more like an observer looking at a lump of flesh. But it still wasn’t enough, because he pulled a lamp cable out of the lamp and started whipping me with the cable, whipping until the flesh was torn open and my back was bleeding. It was then that the pair realized they were done and probably in trouble, I was catatonic at this point, but part of me is surprised I didn’t end up dead and my body hidden away where it probably wouldn’t be found. They put me in the backseat of the car and drove me to his cousin’s house to hide me away and heal me, using ice against the welts, bruising and swelling and washing the wounds left behind. I don’t remember these days on the run, next I remember is waking up over a week later in the hospital. You would expect prison for my abusers, my rapists but there were no child abuse laws and assault was a misdemeanor, they wouldn’t prosecute the sexual abuse, that was my word versus his and they would have to put a broken child on the stand in front of Satan himself. They didn’t like the chances. He got 2 years probation and community service with a fine and me and brother ended up in foster care and a year later in my father’s custody. 

 The next 2 years I lived back in my father’s world, a world where I was the oldest and  all the actions taken by my younger brother and step brothers were owned by me. The question of why did you let them do this, why didn’t you stop them, were you not paying attention, what are you stupid as I go to school and am on the honor society and belonging to the who’s who, yeah, I’m fucking stupid, the anger is boiling inside of me, then I go spend the weekend at mothers and there are always kids my age hanging around partying with her, then back to my father’s custody. That custody ended when my father was yelled for after I grabbed my stepmother’s wrist when she tried to slap me and I pushed her away from me. My father charged me and I ran out the back door into the shed in the backyard. I grabbed my baseball bat and met my father at the porch. I told him I would kill him right here and now before he will ever lay a hand on me again, I’m at 12. He turned around and sent me to live with my mother and her roommate, her roommate and their invited kids my age over for parties, the drinking and drugs that also turned into sexploitation and trafficking, I’m even sure they used some of those girls to bribe a couple police officers. Her roommate put me in bed with her and had sex with me during this time, the start of my mother’s friends and me , but soon after my mother met another man and was soon to get married and on the way to the next town. 

      Six months after they marry, mothers new husband gets a new job in a new town, at the end of semester we are moving, and then we arrive to my latest stepfather sleeping with his aide and filing for divorce. We are just in this new house, home is hardly established, my mother doesn’t have any friends or family in this town and once again has no job. She breaks down, collapses, drunk, I come to her, I pick her back up, carry her into bed. I hold her through her pain, I needed her to regain her strength, she needed to focus on living, on life. She took advantage of my need to make her happy and the proximity of our bodies, she engaged in using my body. Then when they get divorced and my mother takes advantage of my need to take care of her and my need to be loved, I now understand that I recognized sex to be the same as love, and now I am fully owned by my mother. Trying to explain these years is a nightmare, it’s embarrassing, it’s torturous and it still doesn’t end here, because I still have 3 more years of being used by my mother’s friends, which I now understand I was the sexual favors for financing my mother’s lifestyle. I am sorry if this is too much sharing.

I was involuntarily admitted to a psychiatric hospital more than six years ago when I was a teenager. It was an emergency stabilization unit, so I was only kept for seven days. And while the staff certainly weren’t kind to us, I’m not sure the way they treated us could be categorized as abusive. My depression is treated now after much trial and error, and my life has improved a lot. But I still can’t seem to move on from this experience, even after all these years. I haven’t been able to see myself as a whole person since it happened (though this belief pertains only to myself, not to others who have had the same experience) and I don’t even recognize myself in the person I was beforehand. I think about it nearly every single day, and sometimes it’s the only thing I can think about until I’m in tears and incapacitated from how much it hurts. The humiliation and grief never let up. I lost virtually all interest I had in connection of any form; I stopped socializing, stopped actively trying to make new friends, have no desire at all for romantic relationships. I don’t even want to have kids anymore because I never want to be put in the position to make that decision for another person. I have been formally diagnosed with PTSD because of my experience and have been in therapy for years. I just hoped things would have gotten a little better by now. If anything, it has started to hurt more the longer I’ve had to sit with the memory. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel whole again. Why can’t I seem to move on?

Hey! Recently, I’ve been thinking that there’s a direct link between sleep, cPTSD/PTSD, body works and restrictive patterns but I cannot tell yet exactly how these subjects thing are connected. If you have more knowledge about that and willing to share I’d be very grateful. I need to wait one more month before attending the psycho trauma centre of my city and I’d like to use that time as a way to THINK and learn about this subject.

So, for context, I have been going through really shitty stuff for my whole life but it got better around 2016, and one of the first things I did for myself at the time was starting to learn how to sleep on the back. I couldn’t do it, I was sleeping in a very tight foetus position which is killing my back and enhances the curl forward from my shoulders. I spent months training myself and eventually made it.

Fast forward, it’s the end of 2020 and a very hard event occurred, triggering my childhood abandonment issues very, very badly. I immediately started to sleep as a foetus again, after years of keeping this blessed and sane position for my back. I couldn’t fell asleep of my back, I needed to squeeze a cushion against my chest very tightly.

I haven’t been able to recover my healthy sleep position since even thought I have been in therapy since. Something even crazier happened to me at the beginning of 2024, triggering the whole pack of my trauma childhood 🥴. So, I started exploring TRE, trauma informed yoga, pandiculation, fascia trainings… Anything that could hold the promise of releasing my shoulders protection pattern and my integrated traumas. It’s been good, but something interesting happened yesterday and that will be the end of my story after that lol.

I have been acting ERRATIC recently, unable to sleep, stuck in freeze & fawn 24/7, no break, super tense body etc, endless doomscrolling and relying on Reddit’s dopamine to survive lol. After 3 days stuck this way, I managed to find an opportunity to go non verbal, switch off the lights and do a little TRE hoping that it will help me. It did. Very intensely. The session was super intense, I felt very vulnerable and insecure at times (I believe it was cause by an emotional release). And I tremored like never before, exorcist style with very sharp and tights movements. I integrated the session before going to sleep and was feeling weak from all this release, I slept super quickly and in my own bed which is rare. And I finally managed to sleep on the back 🥲🩷 When I woke up this afternoon, my boyfriend asked me if I remembered about last night, and told me that 30 mins after I came to bed, and fell asleep on my back, I started to fidget and scream like if something was threatening my life. Not surprising as the last trauma was quite violent and threatening for my life but I never acted this intense during my sleep. That said, I’m now in a much better place than I was yesterday before the TRE, emotionally and physically speaking.

So now that the (long I know sorry) context is here, a bunch of hypothesis and questions. Feel free to share your thoughts, experience, hypothesis and advices if it makes you think about something!!

• Is it possible that I cannot sleep on my back anymore because it feels too opening / vulnerable / triggering to my traumatised body or nervous system to act this way ?

• Do you guys think it’s possible that the TRE session I did yesterday truly helped releasing what kept me in the freeze / fawn for days, to a point that the release provoked a flashback nightmare ?

• If you were having the same experience as me, or if you had, what kind of therapy would you use / have you used and why ?

• How to find a good posture again ? My shoulders keep curling no matter all the exercises and relaxation I do. Is it possible to correlate this chronic posture with my sleep position ? Which one do you think is the root cause of the other if so ? Stress that cause back pain and sleep position, or sleep position that causes back pain and more stress. I don’t fucking know and I don’t fucking know what to do lol.

I know that’s a lot of questions and I know that many of them could be answered by professionals but I don’t have access to this yet, not because of money but because I need to wait 6 months since the last trauma occurred and at my 5th.

I’m very grateful if you took the time to read till the end, and even more if you’re willing to share your time and experience with me. Thanks in advance 🩷

Title: Navigating Complexity: Misdiagnosis of Schizophrenia in PTSD and C-PTSD Patients with Voices, Attachments, and Ego States

Abstract:

This journal delves into the challenging terrain of misdiagnosing schizophrenia in individuals with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and complex PTSD (C-PTSD) who experience voices, attachments, and diverse ego states. Drawing from clinical observations and psychological frameworks, we explore the intricate interplay between these phenomena and propose strategies for improving differential diagnosis, therapeutic interventions, and the role of anxiolytic medication.

Keywords: PTSD, complex PTSD, schizophrenia misdiagnosis, voices, attachments, ego states, differential diagnosis, therapeutic strategies, anxiolytic medication

Introduction:

The overlapping symptoms of PTSD, C-PTSD, and schizophrenia, particularly concerning voice phenomena, pose significant diagnostic dilemmas in clinical practice. This journal reflects on the complexities involved in accurately differentiating between trauma-related manifestations and psychotic symptoms, highlighting the need for nuanced assessment, tailored therapeutic approaches, and the adjunctive use of anxiolytic medication.

Exploring Voice Phenomena, Attachments, and Ego States in PTSD and C-PTSD:

Voice Phenomena: Voices experienced in PTSD and C-PTSD often stem from internal dialogues related to traumatic memories, attachments, or ego states. These voices are distinct from hallucinations seen in schizophrenia and reflect unresolved psychological conflicts.

Attachments and Identity: Individuals with PTSD and C-PTSD may develop strong attachments to fictional or real-life characters, influencing their sense of self and internal dialogues. These attachments can evoke diverse ego states and emotional responses.

Ego States and Internal Dialogues: PTSD and C-PTSD can trigger the activation of different ego states, leading to internal dialogues that manifest as voices representing various aspects of the individual's identity, coping mechanisms, or unresolved trauma.

Challenges in Differential Diagnosis and the Role of Anxiolytic Medication:

Symptom Overlap: The overlap between PTSD and C-PTSD-related voice phenomena, attachments, and ego states with schizophrenia symptoms complicates accurate diagnosis and treatment planning.

Diagnostic Complexity: Existing diagnostic criteria for schizophrenia may not adequately address the complexities of trauma-related experiences seen in PTSD and C-PTSD, affecting perception and cognition.

Anxiolytic Medication: Anxiolytics play a crucial role in managing anxiety and related symptoms in PTSD and C-PTSD, which can contribute to voice experiences, attachments, and ego states. Integrating anxiolytic medication in treatment plans can help alleviate distress and improve overall functioning, supporting therapeutic interventions.

Proposed Strategies and Reflections:

Comprehensive Assessment: Advocate for thorough assessments that consider trauma history, attachment patterns, ego states, and voice experiences to inform accurate differential diagnosis and personalized treatment plans for PTSD and C-PTSD. Incorporate the evaluation of anxiety levels and consider the use of anxiolytic medication where appropriate.

Trauma-Informed Therapeutic Approaches: Utilize trauma-informed therapies such as Internal Family Systems (IFS) to address complex attachments, ego states, and internal dialogues in individuals with PTSD and C-PTSD. These approaches promote self-awareness, emotional integration, and trauma resolution alongside medication management.

Collaborative Care: Emphasize interdisciplinary collaboration among mental health professionals to ensure holistic care, accurate diagnostic formulation, and integrated treatment plans that include psychotherapy, medication, and supportive interventions tailored to individual needs.

Conclusion:

This journal underscores the importance of recognizing and navigating the complexities of PTSD and C-PTSD-related phenomena, including voice experiences, attachments, and ego states, to prevent misdiagnosis of schizophrenia. By adopting a nuanced approach to assessment, integrating trauma-informed therapeutic strategies, and considering the role of anxiolytic medication, clinicians can improve diagnostic accuracy, enhance therapeutic outcomes, and support the well-being of individuals with PTSD and C-PTSD.

References:

[Include relevant academic literature and clinical guidelines related to PTSD, complex PTSD, schizophrenia, trauma-informed therapies, differential diagnosis, anxiolytic medication, and integrated treatment approaches in mental health settings.]