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The Fear Of Others Finding Out

A shade of this has risen its ugly head for me. I'm trying to put it into words but I'm muddled. I can give an example though. I once had a bad fall down a set of cement stairs. I did not call out for help as I was falling. Nor when I woke up (not sure I was fully unconscious, but I certainly was fully conscious for a bit). When I realized I could get up and move, I was relieved because that meant I could handle it on my own. The reality is I did need help, and ended up calling a coworker, but not until I felt I had a plan and was at least together enough that I could manage the coworker.

It's this deep, core fear of letting someone see how deeply hurt I am? That's the best I can describe. Minor hurts, I can joke about. I can even say an ouch if I stub my toe. However the time I badly broke a finger, I was keeply silent and tried to hide it.

If that doesn't actually fit with this, feel free to ignore.
 
When I realized I could get up and move, I was relieved because that meant I could handle it on my own. The reality is I did need help, and ended up calling
Hadn’t connected “fear of others finding out” with “needs” and “calling for help”. This opens an avenue for me. Not one I want to go down! but I see a connection now.

I wonder if it’s connected to that deep old cognitive distortion “It’s my fault, I could have stopped it; the fact that I didn’t means I’m the problem, if people find out they will see what a monster I really am.”

So it’s even connected to people finding out *about me*, that I exist as someone. That I own this body, this mind.

Maybe there’s something too about not wanting to identify with the body or the mind. “This is not my body.” So if people find out, they will speak to me as if this body is mine. And I’m not going to put myself in that position.

Idk, just some ponderings that came up. Been thinking about “what belongs to me”, but further, what do I *belong to*. As opposed to what do I deserve? What do I belong to. It’s a push back.
 
Hadn’t connected “fear of others finding out” with “needs” and “calling for help”. This opens an avenue for me. Not one I want to go down! but I see a connection now.

I wonder if it’s connected to that deep old cognitive distortion “It’s my fault, I could have stopped it; the fact that I didn’t means I’m the problem, if people find out they will see what a monster I really am.”

So it’s even connected to people finding out *about me*, that I exist as someone. That I own this body, this mind.

Maybe there’s something too about not wanting to identify with the body or the mind. “This is not my body.” So if people find out, they will speak to me as if this body is mine. And I’m not going to put myself in that position.

Idk, just some ponderings that came up. Been thinking about “what belongs to me”, but further, what do I *belong to*. As opposed to what do I deserve? What do I belong to. It’s a push back.
I have a feeling this is linked to survivor's guilt.
 
Yeah, that feeling is intense. It's like you're carrying around this fragile secret, always watching your back so nobody sees the cracks. I remember spending so much energy just trying to look "normal" every single day, and it just wore me out completely.
 
<grin> S’what I’m doing.
I want to update what I said a little because I said it a week after going back on my meds. Before that and with the benefit of hindsight I would’ve said it differently if at all. I was on edge much more . About what? That’s the rub kinda .
I think I’m on edge about what I’m thinking about currently or what’s going on. That’s not really true however. Also my therapist is working really hard to do trauma therapy with me. She’s an outlet, a really big one. These things combined more and more, not to mention my age, and believe me things change drastically, give me a little distance from the feeling I think of reading this . I’ve been more open with this therapist in a few months than I was with the last trauma therapist for about 2 1/2 years. So yes it’s easier . But without the meds it’s back to the nail biting.
 
I shared that I had hepatitis C in 1999. It was a mistake because people thought they understood Hep C back in the day. They thought it came from shared needles and homosexual activity. Done, questions answered, mind closed over. I spent years telling people why that was wrong. I will tell you all now that it was first diagnosed as non A non B hepatitis in soldiers who had received battlefield plasma and transfusions. These same soldiers went on to feel gratitude for the life saving efforts and did what they could to pay it back by giving blood. The blood supply was tainted until 1983 when tests became thorough and were administered universally.
All this to explain that some diseases and disorders are not fully understood, ever, and the assumptions made early on are often wrong and always hard to dislodge.
I shared my PTSD with those that need to know. I have been asked if it was associated with a TBI. I have been asked why I wouldn't tell the story of being shot at (I wasn't). I have been told, by medical professionals, that "everyone has something these days, don't believe every diagnosis passed on to you". Shit, I am forced to explain PTSD just like Hep C.
Head injury Rock. Head injury dashboard. Head injury baseball bat. Head injury exposure to the horrible selfishness of drunk drivers and putting children in life flight helicopters. Head injury victim of oppressive religion enforced by the whims of a selfish narcissist stepmother who steered the violences committed by her mis lead husband against me.
Why would I be afraid someone will find out?
What I am truly afraid of are the people that think hep C comes from needle parties in teh back room of a gay bar and that PTSD comes from not being man enough to take it.
Who cares about what those people think? I do, but not enough to try to educate them anymore. Tired of it, tired of them.
I am trying hard to shake the human desire to be accepted for who I am, getting old enough to know that what they think is their problem and if I was to set out on a mission to correct it I would be gone for a long time. Gonna stay home and work on what I think instead. I think I will have another cup of coffee. Wann go in the hot tub?
 
"They'll find out. Every employer eventually does, and then they all have the same reaction: 'you're too much, time to go.' To call it a fear is a disservice, more like an obsession. I've spent years trying to hide this, clearly it isn't working, and they ALWAYS find out and then I get hurt because that's what people do to hurt people - hurt them more."

Truncated version of my particular flavor of this.
 
Did you steal that from my diary? Because it's my introduction to being here! 😁 😁

But I get it. So much risk in letting anyone see behind the facade, see what happened, what I've done, how damaged I am, blah blah blah. Now add in a ptsd diagnosis and the shame associated with that and WHAM! Time to hide in a hole.

Then add in the forum, where "people" might find me, find out the things I've shared, use it against me as proof of how damaged I am, tell the whole world of my shame, blah blah blah. So much risk for so little reward. Easier to maintain the facade and narrative I control.

For us, it depends on the circumstances and the who. Like anything, there are places where disclosure of personal information is more or less appropriate.

We also think a lot about privacy vs secrecy. They are not the same, and it is okay to have privacy.
I like this - a ton! privacy vs secrecy and what/when/who

Who do I feel safe with
Who am I try to hide from?
What am I trying to hid
Why am I trying to hide it
What do I think will happen if people know the truth about me?

So many years of therapy devoted to just helping me see I'm not the bad guy in my story.
Which is kinda what it comes down to I think. Being our own bad guy kept us safe, but is it still necessary?

Don't get me wrong - there are things that I've done that I don't think I'll ever get over and only my Ts know about. But even after they knew they didn't run. Can I expect that reaction from everyone? Nope. But can I be selective about who I share things with rather than frantic about hiding who I really am?

Yep.

Because of this

We also think a lot about privacy vs secrecy. They are not the same, and it is okay to have privacy.
We can have privacy without fear - and that's ok. I think.
 
I have no fear of people finding out I have PTSD because I feel like nobody would believe me or what happened to me anyway, even though I know that's not true

Like shit, every time I need to brief a new doctor or whatever on my trauma history, I am just thinking like "there is no f*cking way they're going to believe this, especially since I'm gonna be spitting it out with no context and low visible reaction" lol

So I feel like if people see symptoms on me they'll just think I'm a spaz or being weird or spacy or whatever, rather than going "oh she probably has PTSD"

But yeah, good 'ole standard issue "nobody will believe me anyway" thoughts that came prepackaged with my PTSD lol.

As for people finding out what happened to me, well I'm a bit screwed there because you can just look up a whole lot of it in local court records. I'm not too worried about that tbh but still

I've also gotten waaaaay better at hiding symptoms over the years, which isn't necessarily a good thing but yeah, I definitely mask when I can.

Like, the past couple of weeks have been the worst I've had in years, and my mom has absolutely no clue, when earier on it was pretty visibly apparent that I was having a panic attack or having a really rough time etc

Like shit, I have barely even eaten these 2 or 3 weeks. Probably well under 1000 calories per day. Today was like 600. The not eating, she might notice eventually
 
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I've chewed on this a bit, because I think this is my deepest and truest issue. Exposure is an absolute no go. My layers of protection is to keep "you" from knowing and seeing. It's a thing, for sure, a really BIG thing. I don't know where to go from here with it.
 
I worry my oversharing on this forum will allow others to find me and connect that this account is mine.
Haven't posted in a long long time but I really felt this. I actually thought to myself awhile back how lucky I was that I found this site a few years ago and how much it helps me reading some of these threads but that I can only really go as far as I already have with respect to posting about my own situation. Somewhere inside of me something says, "You've shared too much already. You've given enough by admitting that you have this "thing" in your past. Anything more is too 'identifying' ", DESPITE the fact that other than my therapist and 2 other very close friends in my life, I've never shared anything about my childhood trauma. Ever.
So logically I know that no one will know anything about me. But it still feels too much. It's too open. Dramatic but.......It's like it would be giving my trauma too much air to breath and that would give it the strength to shove it's way right past my barriers of shame and fear and announce itself openly to the world. To everyone that knows me. I've starved the memories for so long, hoping to kill them off. To speak them, or write them, that's feeding and strengthening an entity that I don't want released. The thought terrifies me.
 

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