eyesinside5656
New Here
Hello all,
I have never shared my story online, but its a long one that dives deep into many factors of my life. This is my first post to the forum after many months of lurking. I would just like to say that specifics of certain circumstances will be left vague due to lingering paranoia. I hope you find tmy story as perplexing as i do, as i consider it to be quite unique, as i have never heard of anybody developing PTSD from the circumstances it was derived from. Though it may seem unescceary, at this point i am going to give some background on myself, as everything i mention is a factor to the sum that resulted in PTSD.
Background: I am a college aged male and before developing PTSD, i had already suffered for years from multiple undiagnosed and untreated mental illnesses including Bipolar Disorder, Severe Social Anxiety and ADHD (Combination Type - Innantetive Dominant). At around the 6th grade, my parents filed for divorce and separated. However though they officially separated upon breaking the news to my siblings and i, their divorce case would remain open and active until i was in my early months of highschool. I have always acted differently than all of my siblings. I had much more intense emotions, was frequently injured as an adolescent (i made a dozen or so trips to the ER between ages 6 and 14), defied my parents authority, made impulsive choices and did not enjoy socializing with or taking part in our "family". I kept to myself and definitely consider myself the blacksheep out of my siblings. Around 5th grade is when i feel that my disorders began to really take fruition inside my head. I was too young to understand or recognize that my personality was starting to slowly morph into the molds that my disorders were slowly starting to create. I was and still am a naturally intelligent person. For 3 years in a row in elementary school, i scored perfect score on all of my state assessments without any definite preparation or special attention. Nobody in the school district had ever seen of any child scoring perfect score on every state assessment they took that many years in a row. But by time i was done with middle school, i averaged C's and the occasional B. It wasn't that i found school hard, i just didnt care. Whenever trying to do homework, i was either too distracted by other things to even want to start, had lost the assignment by time i got home, flat out forget i had homework, or try to complete homework and give up after becoming so frustrated by having to read anything on the page 4 or 5 times before i could deeply grasp what i was being asked to do. Being at school was worse for me. I felt like nobody liked me, like i didn't belong, had no friends and was always being watched. My parents never saw or were able to focus on my academic hardships, as they were too busy trying to figure out how to f*ck the other one over in court to notice. They simply chalked my irregularlity as "not being able to get over the split" and gave no further thought to it, even though i had been exhibiting signs of ADHD, Bipolar Disorder, and anxiety long before they became blantly apparant. As i entered my preteen and teen years, my parents drilled into my head the phrase "theres nothing wrong with you" into my head. I understand it was likely without ill-intentions, but simply choosing to believe there is nothing there does not mean there isn't anything there. After hearing this phrase for so long, i naively bought into it, and put an extreme amount of effort into masking the effects of my disorders and trying to ignore them. It got to the point to where i felt like i was afraid to do anything else but act "normal" bbecause i didn't want to suddenly be viewed as insane have my parents think i was faking it for attention. Thanks unrecognized anxiety. This pattern of blind ignorance and and systematic oppression of emotions would continue until one night, in late January during my 2nd semester of college, i found myself in the back of a patrol car, tripping on acid, and facing multiple Level 3 felony drug charges.
1st Semester: I began lifting weights in September, shortly after my arrival to college. I have always been noticeably skinnier than other guys my age, and wanted to feel better about myself. By early November, i had gained an astonishing 16 pounds and all my skinny jeans were actually starting to fit like skinny jeans and not just loose pants. And then the 1st week of November i fell victim to deviously malicious sexual manipulation. I was taken advantage of while extremely drunk while she was completely sober. She didn't have a single drink and drove us back to her dorm. The next day she tried to convince me i got her pregnant, despite my use of contraception as well as not reaching climax due to high levels of intoxication. She then proceeded to threaten to take me to court and falsly accuse me of rape if i didn't agree to date her. I promptly blocked her number and have not heard from he since then. This event took an extreme toll on my mental state, and greatly exacerbated all of my already wildly uncontrolled comorbid disorders. By time winter break came around, i could no longer excercise anywhere in public without feeling intense anxiety that somebody was about to execute a plot against me. I could no longer talk to females without feeling unreasonable fear. I had already been smoking weed about 2-4 times a week for a 10 months before this event , as i found it greatly soothing to my racing mind. By time 2 weeks had passed after the attack, i found myself smoking 2-5 1gram joints per day. Smoking was the only way felt i could liberate my mind from the intense weight it carried, and releive the tension from my psychological bubble that was already bursting at its seams. In mid December i discovered psychedelics and their remarkable ability to not only liftmy mood and enhance my perception of life, but to also allow me to completely detach from everything i am and have experienced for a short period of time. I was tripping on something at least once a week as well as consuming excessive amounts of cannabis by time finals rolled around. The cost of self medicating became exponential, and once i got back home, i realized i was going to be flat broke by the first week of the new year. There was no way i would even entertain the idea of quitting. I felt like i was going insane when i didn't smoke and the thought of not being able to buy terrified me. And what does a stoner do when they need cash, and they need it quck? You guessed it. I began ALLEGEDLY distributing. I ALLEGEDLY found i needed to be moving a fairly high volume, and by ALLEGEDLY utilizing my social circle through the motivation of a "no cost smokable incentive" i was able to ALLEGEDLY aquire a vast customer base in an extremely short period of time. But theres no such thing as a free ride. And with this, we finally get to the event that triggered my rapid downfall and rapid onset of PTSD. My first weekend back at school, i drop 2 tabs of acid on the weekend at around 7:30pm. By 10:15 i found myself wanting to go sit in my car and listen to some music, as i was trippin hard and having a good time. While im sitting in the car, a cop drives up on me and i jump (again, thanks anxiety). The cop gets out, comes over, smells "an intense oder of raw marijuana" at which point he searches the car. I am placed under arrest and locked in the cop car tripping absolute balls, While he stands outside talking on the phone. Then i am jarred by him knocking on the window asking why im screaming to which i replied "i dont know. im afraid". But what i found weird was, i didn't even remember screaming. Then i knew this was about to get bad, and i needed to do everything i could to embrace the extreme terror of this now horrible trip in order to get through this without being locked in a psyche ward. I miraculously pulled myself through booking without anybody noticing im having the bad trip of a lifetime. I got put in my 8×8 concrete cell with nothing but my clothes and a very thin wool blanket. I spent the next 5 hours laying in the corner of my holding cell, curled up in the fetal position crying, convinced that i was dead and in hell. And if i somehow wasn't dead, i needed to kill myself as soon as i got out. At around 5am, i started to come back to reality, and by 7am i done tripping. My bond was posted at 7:30. Then as i walked out into the cold foggy January morning wearing a very light flannel and shorts, i started the 2 hour walk back to my dorm. I couldn't call a cab or an uber, because my phone was dead and had no money or credit cards on me. My dad showed up to talk to me shortly after i got back to my dorm, and my mom showed up 40 minutes after him. The fact that they each drove 4 hours separate cars to my university should paint how much they dislike each other, and when they were in my room talking to me, i realized that this is what it takes for my parents to get together to try and understand what it is that is going on inside my head. I did my best to act composed and sane but inside my head i was losing it. Apparently after all those years of faking it, i got pretty good at it, and the left me there. I went to bed at 8pm, as i stayed up all night in jail coming down off Lucy. But when i woke up the next day, something wasnt right. 15 minutes after waking up i started crying and couldnt stop. I began having a violently unexpected flashback. I became extremely paranoid and believed that the cops were on their way to come arrest me again. I fell back into the mentality that i had adopted in jail of needing to kill myself. I could barely breath. My heart was racing. It felt like the walls were closing in and my reality was ripped apart by the hands of the past and the present. I starting banging my head on the wall and didn't remember doing it until the flashback was over. I was on full suicidal autopilot mode and went up to the top floor of my building in a trance. I got out on the fire escape to jump. I was truly going to do it. Whay broke my trance was my phone rang. I paused and looked at it. It was my dad. This is what brought me back, just in the nick of time. I crawled back inside and fell into a heap of uncontrollable crying and feeling intense emotions pouring out of me. After 8 years, the bubble had truly and finally burst. I called back and told him to come get me. He drove me back home, and i didn't sleep for 4 days, and didn't stop visibly shaking uncontrollably for 4 days as well. Fastforward to 6 months later (now) and i am starting to learn to get a handle on it. I still have graphically vivid nightmares, but they only happen about 3-4 nights a week now, instead of everytime i close my eyes.Full on flashbacks are few and far between, but the lingering constant anxiety is still very present. I am now incredibly jumpy, and typically cant go into any public place without constantly scanning everybody in sight, because i still feel like an undercover cop is somewhere in the croud watching, waiting, and taking notes. Even though im not involved in anything remotely illegal. I do have a very supportive psychiatric team and i am definitely much better now than i was that day i wanted to jumo. But i still have a long fight and alot of progress to make ahead. Experiencing PTSD primarily from getting arrested while tripping is probably the stupidest thing ever, and im still paying the price for it. But i own my mistake and am still learning from it. I'm glad i didn't jump. Im happy to be here.
Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged
"It is ok to make a mistake, no matter how big or how small, so long as you learn from it"
I have never shared my story online, but its a long one that dives deep into many factors of my life. This is my first post to the forum after many months of lurking. I would just like to say that specifics of certain circumstances will be left vague due to lingering paranoia. I hope you find tmy story as perplexing as i do, as i consider it to be quite unique, as i have never heard of anybody developing PTSD from the circumstances it was derived from. Though it may seem unescceary, at this point i am going to give some background on myself, as everything i mention is a factor to the sum that resulted in PTSD.
Background: I am a college aged male and before developing PTSD, i had already suffered for years from multiple undiagnosed and untreated mental illnesses including Bipolar Disorder, Severe Social Anxiety and ADHD (Combination Type - Innantetive Dominant). At around the 6th grade, my parents filed for divorce and separated. However though they officially separated upon breaking the news to my siblings and i, their divorce case would remain open and active until i was in my early months of highschool. I have always acted differently than all of my siblings. I had much more intense emotions, was frequently injured as an adolescent (i made a dozen or so trips to the ER between ages 6 and 14), defied my parents authority, made impulsive choices and did not enjoy socializing with or taking part in our "family". I kept to myself and definitely consider myself the blacksheep out of my siblings. Around 5th grade is when i feel that my disorders began to really take fruition inside my head. I was too young to understand or recognize that my personality was starting to slowly morph into the molds that my disorders were slowly starting to create. I was and still am a naturally intelligent person. For 3 years in a row in elementary school, i scored perfect score on all of my state assessments without any definite preparation or special attention. Nobody in the school district had ever seen of any child scoring perfect score on every state assessment they took that many years in a row. But by time i was done with middle school, i averaged C's and the occasional B. It wasn't that i found school hard, i just didnt care. Whenever trying to do homework, i was either too distracted by other things to even want to start, had lost the assignment by time i got home, flat out forget i had homework, or try to complete homework and give up after becoming so frustrated by having to read anything on the page 4 or 5 times before i could deeply grasp what i was being asked to do. Being at school was worse for me. I felt like nobody liked me, like i didn't belong, had no friends and was always being watched. My parents never saw or were able to focus on my academic hardships, as they were too busy trying to figure out how to f*ck the other one over in court to notice. They simply chalked my irregularlity as "not being able to get over the split" and gave no further thought to it, even though i had been exhibiting signs of ADHD, Bipolar Disorder, and anxiety long before they became blantly apparant. As i entered my preteen and teen years, my parents drilled into my head the phrase "theres nothing wrong with you" into my head. I understand it was likely without ill-intentions, but simply choosing to believe there is nothing there does not mean there isn't anything there. After hearing this phrase for so long, i naively bought into it, and put an extreme amount of effort into masking the effects of my disorders and trying to ignore them. It got to the point to where i felt like i was afraid to do anything else but act "normal" bbecause i didn't want to suddenly be viewed as insane have my parents think i was faking it for attention. Thanks unrecognized anxiety. This pattern of blind ignorance and and systematic oppression of emotions would continue until one night, in late January during my 2nd semester of college, i found myself in the back of a patrol car, tripping on acid, and facing multiple Level 3 felony drug charges.
1st Semester: I began lifting weights in September, shortly after my arrival to college. I have always been noticeably skinnier than other guys my age, and wanted to feel better about myself. By early November, i had gained an astonishing 16 pounds and all my skinny jeans were actually starting to fit like skinny jeans and not just loose pants. And then the 1st week of November i fell victim to deviously malicious sexual manipulation. I was taken advantage of while extremely drunk while she was completely sober. She didn't have a single drink and drove us back to her dorm. The next day she tried to convince me i got her pregnant, despite my use of contraception as well as not reaching climax due to high levels of intoxication. She then proceeded to threaten to take me to court and falsly accuse me of rape if i didn't agree to date her. I promptly blocked her number and have not heard from he since then. This event took an extreme toll on my mental state, and greatly exacerbated all of my already wildly uncontrolled comorbid disorders. By time winter break came around, i could no longer excercise anywhere in public without feeling intense anxiety that somebody was about to execute a plot against me. I could no longer talk to females without feeling unreasonable fear. I had already been smoking weed about 2-4 times a week for a 10 months before this event , as i found it greatly soothing to my racing mind. By time 2 weeks had passed after the attack, i found myself smoking 2-5 1gram joints per day. Smoking was the only way felt i could liberate my mind from the intense weight it carried, and releive the tension from my psychological bubble that was already bursting at its seams. In mid December i discovered psychedelics and their remarkable ability to not only liftmy mood and enhance my perception of life, but to also allow me to completely detach from everything i am and have experienced for a short period of time. I was tripping on something at least once a week as well as consuming excessive amounts of cannabis by time finals rolled around. The cost of self medicating became exponential, and once i got back home, i realized i was going to be flat broke by the first week of the new year. There was no way i would even entertain the idea of quitting. I felt like i was going insane when i didn't smoke and the thought of not being able to buy terrified me. And what does a stoner do when they need cash, and they need it quck? You guessed it. I began ALLEGEDLY distributing. I ALLEGEDLY found i needed to be moving a fairly high volume, and by ALLEGEDLY utilizing my social circle through the motivation of a "no cost smokable incentive" i was able to ALLEGEDLY aquire a vast customer base in an extremely short period of time. But theres no such thing as a free ride. And with this, we finally get to the event that triggered my rapid downfall and rapid onset of PTSD. My first weekend back at school, i drop 2 tabs of acid on the weekend at around 7:30pm. By 10:15 i found myself wanting to go sit in my car and listen to some music, as i was trippin hard and having a good time. While im sitting in the car, a cop drives up on me and i jump (again, thanks anxiety). The cop gets out, comes over, smells "an intense oder of raw marijuana" at which point he searches the car. I am placed under arrest and locked in the cop car tripping absolute balls, While he stands outside talking on the phone. Then i am jarred by him knocking on the window asking why im screaming to which i replied "i dont know. im afraid". But what i found weird was, i didn't even remember screaming. Then i knew this was about to get bad, and i needed to do everything i could to embrace the extreme terror of this now horrible trip in order to get through this without being locked in a psyche ward. I miraculously pulled myself through booking without anybody noticing im having the bad trip of a lifetime. I got put in my 8×8 concrete cell with nothing but my clothes and a very thin wool blanket. I spent the next 5 hours laying in the corner of my holding cell, curled up in the fetal position crying, convinced that i was dead and in hell. And if i somehow wasn't dead, i needed to kill myself as soon as i got out. At around 5am, i started to come back to reality, and by 7am i done tripping. My bond was posted at 7:30. Then as i walked out into the cold foggy January morning wearing a very light flannel and shorts, i started the 2 hour walk back to my dorm. I couldn't call a cab or an uber, because my phone was dead and had no money or credit cards on me. My dad showed up to talk to me shortly after i got back to my dorm, and my mom showed up 40 minutes after him. The fact that they each drove 4 hours separate cars to my university should paint how much they dislike each other, and when they were in my room talking to me, i realized that this is what it takes for my parents to get together to try and understand what it is that is going on inside my head. I did my best to act composed and sane but inside my head i was losing it. Apparently after all those years of faking it, i got pretty good at it, and the left me there. I went to bed at 8pm, as i stayed up all night in jail coming down off Lucy. But when i woke up the next day, something wasnt right. 15 minutes after waking up i started crying and couldnt stop. I began having a violently unexpected flashback. I became extremely paranoid and believed that the cops were on their way to come arrest me again. I fell back into the mentality that i had adopted in jail of needing to kill myself. I could barely breath. My heart was racing. It felt like the walls were closing in and my reality was ripped apart by the hands of the past and the present. I starting banging my head on the wall and didn't remember doing it until the flashback was over. I was on full suicidal autopilot mode and went up to the top floor of my building in a trance. I got out on the fire escape to jump. I was truly going to do it. Whay broke my trance was my phone rang. I paused and looked at it. It was my dad. This is what brought me back, just in the nick of time. I crawled back inside and fell into a heap of uncontrollable crying and feeling intense emotions pouring out of me. After 8 years, the bubble had truly and finally burst. I called back and told him to come get me. He drove me back home, and i didn't sleep for 4 days, and didn't stop visibly shaking uncontrollably for 4 days as well. Fastforward to 6 months later (now) and i am starting to learn to get a handle on it. I still have graphically vivid nightmares, but they only happen about 3-4 nights a week now, instead of everytime i close my eyes.Full on flashbacks are few and far between, but the lingering constant anxiety is still very present. I am now incredibly jumpy, and typically cant go into any public place without constantly scanning everybody in sight, because i still feel like an undercover cop is somewhere in the croud watching, waiting, and taking notes. Even though im not involved in anything remotely illegal. I do have a very supportive psychiatric team and i am definitely much better now than i was that day i wanted to jumo. But i still have a long fight and alot of progress to make ahead. Experiencing PTSD primarily from getting arrested while tripping is probably the stupidest thing ever, and im still paying the price for it. But i own my mistake and am still learning from it. I'm glad i didn't jump. Im happy to be here.
Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged
"It is ok to make a mistake, no matter how big or how small, so long as you learn from it"
