First, a bit of context for my question - I was diagnosed with PTSD in a 1992 but not treated, after which a million other traumatic incidents gradually infinitely compounded it. My profession for 20 years was as a human rights fieldworker; in 2007 I crashed and became artist and writer making work around trauma which built into an unexpectedly successful career. I thought I was dealing with it all through my work, which built into an unexpectedly successful career. UNTIL. In November of this year my spouse of 15 years and I started (long overdue) divorce proceedings, in February and March I had two major museum exhibitions of my work (around sites of human rights atrocity), in April two major essays were published (also around sites of atrocity) to wide discussion, and in June my first major book was published (short stories around people coping with trauma).
All of these public projects met with completely unexpected acclaim and success. Glowing reviews, huge attention, major press coverage, tons of interviews, public appearances. Beyond that, it means that the humanitarian work I've dedicated my life to is finally reaching an audience where these issues can get attention. Where people care about the persecuted people I care about, and care about what I have to say.
In July I finally crashed hard after the tip of one of my fingers was severed in an accident, although the breakdown had been coming for a long time, but certainly since November. In August, I admitted to the PTSD and started somatic experiencing therapy - I'm having the (apparently) typical experience of the whole PTSD early treatment stuff.
THE PROBLEM: I can't cope with the success or the good things AT ALL. On top of all the ugly feelings I'm having, all the positive stuff - the acceptance and being heard and listened to and even having my work LOVED and appreciated and understood is flooding me out. This morning a glowing book review appeared in a British newspaper and I've now spent hours sobbing to the point of howling, throwing up, and in the bathroom. I'm shaking, and can barely breathe. I'm doing my deep breathing, my morning breakfast, my adrenal supplements, my Klonopin....doesn't phase it. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely type.
Since January, I've been with a new partner, truly the love of my life, who loves me beyond measure and is extremely demonstrative, supportive, and the biggest cheerleader in my recovery and treatment. It's the first time I've ever been truly loved and accepted in my whole life.
Yesterday he told me he wanted to be with me forever as life partners, and forever wasn't long enough - it sent me to bed curled up in a ball sobbing.
Why is this so hard? Why is it so painful to be seen and heard? To see and even feel other people loving me, appreciating me? finding me valuable? it brings out a level of fear and pain that I can't cope with.
each time something GOOD happens, I fall apart completely.
All of these public projects met with completely unexpected acclaim and success. Glowing reviews, huge attention, major press coverage, tons of interviews, public appearances. Beyond that, it means that the humanitarian work I've dedicated my life to is finally reaching an audience where these issues can get attention. Where people care about the persecuted people I care about, and care about what I have to say.
In July I finally crashed hard after the tip of one of my fingers was severed in an accident, although the breakdown had been coming for a long time, but certainly since November. In August, I admitted to the PTSD and started somatic experiencing therapy - I'm having the (apparently) typical experience of the whole PTSD early treatment stuff.
THE PROBLEM: I can't cope with the success or the good things AT ALL. On top of all the ugly feelings I'm having, all the positive stuff - the acceptance and being heard and listened to and even having my work LOVED and appreciated and understood is flooding me out. This morning a glowing book review appeared in a British newspaper and I've now spent hours sobbing to the point of howling, throwing up, and in the bathroom. I'm shaking, and can barely breathe. I'm doing my deep breathing, my morning breakfast, my adrenal supplements, my Klonopin....doesn't phase it. My hands are shaking so hard I can barely type.
Since January, I've been with a new partner, truly the love of my life, who loves me beyond measure and is extremely demonstrative, supportive, and the biggest cheerleader in my recovery and treatment. It's the first time I've ever been truly loved and accepted in my whole life.
Yesterday he told me he wanted to be with me forever as life partners, and forever wasn't long enough - it sent me to bed curled up in a ball sobbing.
Why is this so hard? Why is it so painful to be seen and heard? To see and even feel other people loving me, appreciating me? finding me valuable? it brings out a level of fear and pain that I can't cope with.
each time something GOOD happens, I fall apart completely.