Hi! I'm a 20 year old college student, and I have been recently diagnosed with PTSD (but I probably have CPTSD). I've been experiencing symptoms for almost 8 years now. I didn't really understand what was happening to me for a while since there is very little I remember on my own before I was 14 or so. I spent most of high school just trying to get to college, which meant a lot of hiding and lying about what was happening. I really only became close with other people because I was avoiding going home all the time. I had a couple good friends at the beginning of high school, but they graduated and I ended up with some shitty ones. Long story short, they were just using me and I ended up alone when I needed them the most.
As I was graduationg from high school, my mother decided that she and my father were going to get divorced. At this point, I had been aware that she had been having an affair for about 6 months, but no one knew that. I spent most of that summer stuck in the house alone with my father, which was incredibly triggering especially considering he was depressed and drinking. Since I've started college, they've become very hard to deal with for various reasons.
Basically no one in my family is aware of my diagnosis and I don't want them to. When my symptoms started, the main 2 symptoms I could understand were insomnia and lack of apitite. The insomnia escalated to the point that a friend reported to the school social worker that she thought I was narcoleptic (since I was falling sleep during the day). The school legally obligated my mother to be checked by a doctor, she was incredibly upset about it and did the bare minimum and dropped it. I've had nausea and other stomach problems related to anxiety. Also, chronic back, neck, and jaw pain.
By my second semester in college, I had one friend that I was sort of close with, but that was pretty much it. For some reason, the fall semester of the my sophomore year, we got a lot closer very quickly. My symptoms started to flare up quite a bit a few weeks into the semester since my mother informed me she was comming to visit. I didn't want her there. I fell alseep on a couch in the office after work one day and had a nightmare. My supervisor woke me up, and she sat with me for hours, until it was time to lock up the building. After about a month, she became worried that I was narcoleptic too, even though I told her I had already been tested. She took me to the school health center and made sure that I told them to truth. During that appointment, they also had me see a social worker, whom I continued to see about 2 more times, but I didn't really like her and her questions were incredibly transparent and I stopped going.
I had to go back to my mother's house for winter break, and things got worse. I came back to school a wreck. By February, my supervisor started suggesting I get hospitalized, I wasn't completely against it personally, but I couldn't do it without my family finding out or the school, neither of which would have handled it well. At the beginning of March, she took me back to the school health center to see a different social worker. I liked her better, and at least I had someone I knew with me. But during spring break, everything got muddled and I didn't end up going back. In the middle of March I had a couple of severe flashbacks and I realized that the carpet in my dorm had been a trigger all year. I became depressed and suicidal, and extremely relucant to go home. The couple of people who know me well knew something was wrong, but I wouldn't tell them what was going on. I was taken back to the health center by a friend. They talked to me for half an hour, handed me some ativan for the weekend and told me to come back monday.
I faked my through the Monday appointment, but just barely. By the next day I couldn't do it anymore. I went into work, and showed a couple journal pages to my supervisor to try and explain what was happening. She obviously took me back to the health center, but she had to go back to work. About 4 different people who I didnt were surrounding me asking questions, trying to get me to do things and I completely shut down and curled up on the floor. They just kept telling me the floor is dirty, but I didn't care in the least and they couldn't seem to compredent that. I got stuck seeing the previous social worker, who I didn't like, and she kept saying the wrong things. She was saying that I wasn't going the class (which was just about the only thing I was doing), and she wanted me to give her a reason to not call my parents, I just said what I needed to to get out and ran back to work. Working has always helped me. Then the health center called and said that I wasn't going to see the social worker I liked next time, instead they had changed it to the one I had just talked to. That sent me back downwards.
By the time I had to leave I was nearly unresponsive (I disociate sometimes) but the people who know how to get me out of it weren't around so they called campus safety. There were more people I didn't want in my face. They kept asking what I needed and I kept trying to tell them that disociating was normal for me and was not an emergency. The health center had closed so they brought my dean there, but I had only met her once before for all of 15 minutes. They only let me go when I agreed to go meet with her the next morning. She was a little too nosey for me especially since she isn't legally confidential, but she didn't seem that interesting in helping me solve any problems she could help with. Then the health center blew me off for 3 appointments in a row and never rescheduled another and I never went back. I finally ended up going to an intake therapy appointment in late May (my supervisor got me a rec).
I've been going to my psychiatrist for longer than I've seen anyone, about 2 months. I hate it, I know I have to do it but I hate it. I have to hide the money I'm paying her by getting cash back and whatnot so my mother won't find out. Everytime I go I throw up before and after, I can't eat or sleep more than usual, and it just feels like it's making it worse. I know that's how it will be for a while. I have trouble telling her anything legit or not straight up lying. I do much better with someone there at least to fact check the first couple times. Anyway, I guess I'm trying to get better now. I hate it, sometimes I can only go for my friends rather than myself. I know that isn't super healthy, but it keeps me going.
As I was graduationg from high school, my mother decided that she and my father were going to get divorced. At this point, I had been aware that she had been having an affair for about 6 months, but no one knew that. I spent most of that summer stuck in the house alone with my father, which was incredibly triggering especially considering he was depressed and drinking. Since I've started college, they've become very hard to deal with for various reasons.
Basically no one in my family is aware of my diagnosis and I don't want them to. When my symptoms started, the main 2 symptoms I could understand were insomnia and lack of apitite. The insomnia escalated to the point that a friend reported to the school social worker that she thought I was narcoleptic (since I was falling sleep during the day). The school legally obligated my mother to be checked by a doctor, she was incredibly upset about it and did the bare minimum and dropped it. I've had nausea and other stomach problems related to anxiety. Also, chronic back, neck, and jaw pain.
By my second semester in college, I had one friend that I was sort of close with, but that was pretty much it. For some reason, the fall semester of the my sophomore year, we got a lot closer very quickly. My symptoms started to flare up quite a bit a few weeks into the semester since my mother informed me she was comming to visit. I didn't want her there. I fell alseep on a couch in the office after work one day and had a nightmare. My supervisor woke me up, and she sat with me for hours, until it was time to lock up the building. After about a month, she became worried that I was narcoleptic too, even though I told her I had already been tested. She took me to the school health center and made sure that I told them to truth. During that appointment, they also had me see a social worker, whom I continued to see about 2 more times, but I didn't really like her and her questions were incredibly transparent and I stopped going.
I had to go back to my mother's house for winter break, and things got worse. I came back to school a wreck. By February, my supervisor started suggesting I get hospitalized, I wasn't completely against it personally, but I couldn't do it without my family finding out or the school, neither of which would have handled it well. At the beginning of March, she took me back to the school health center to see a different social worker. I liked her better, and at least I had someone I knew with me. But during spring break, everything got muddled and I didn't end up going back. In the middle of March I had a couple of severe flashbacks and I realized that the carpet in my dorm had been a trigger all year. I became depressed and suicidal, and extremely relucant to go home. The couple of people who know me well knew something was wrong, but I wouldn't tell them what was going on. I was taken back to the health center by a friend. They talked to me for half an hour, handed me some ativan for the weekend and told me to come back monday.
I faked my through the Monday appointment, but just barely. By the next day I couldn't do it anymore. I went into work, and showed a couple journal pages to my supervisor to try and explain what was happening. She obviously took me back to the health center, but she had to go back to work. About 4 different people who I didnt were surrounding me asking questions, trying to get me to do things and I completely shut down and curled up on the floor. They just kept telling me the floor is dirty, but I didn't care in the least and they couldn't seem to compredent that. I got stuck seeing the previous social worker, who I didn't like, and she kept saying the wrong things. She was saying that I wasn't going the class (which was just about the only thing I was doing), and she wanted me to give her a reason to not call my parents, I just said what I needed to to get out and ran back to work. Working has always helped me. Then the health center called and said that I wasn't going to see the social worker I liked next time, instead they had changed it to the one I had just talked to. That sent me back downwards.
By the time I had to leave I was nearly unresponsive (I disociate sometimes) but the people who know how to get me out of it weren't around so they called campus safety. There were more people I didn't want in my face. They kept asking what I needed and I kept trying to tell them that disociating was normal for me and was not an emergency. The health center had closed so they brought my dean there, but I had only met her once before for all of 15 minutes. They only let me go when I agreed to go meet with her the next morning. She was a little too nosey for me especially since she isn't legally confidential, but she didn't seem that interesting in helping me solve any problems she could help with. Then the health center blew me off for 3 appointments in a row and never rescheduled another and I never went back. I finally ended up going to an intake therapy appointment in late May (my supervisor got me a rec).
I've been going to my psychiatrist for longer than I've seen anyone, about 2 months. I hate it, I know I have to do it but I hate it. I have to hide the money I'm paying her by getting cash back and whatnot so my mother won't find out. Everytime I go I throw up before and after, I can't eat or sleep more than usual, and it just feels like it's making it worse. I know that's how it will be for a while. I have trouble telling her anything legit or not straight up lying. I do much better with someone there at least to fact check the first couple times. Anyway, I guess I'm trying to get better now. I hate it, sometimes I can only go for my friends rather than myself. I know that isn't super healthy, but it keeps me going.