Hello all,
Firstly, I hope you had a lovely Christmas (if you celebrate it), and if you're having an okay time during this holiday season.
My trauma dates back two years, when I was in an abusive relationship for several months that I could not escape (it was physically, emotionally, verbally abusive and financially exploitative as well...bad news).
When I got out of the relationship, I moved back in with my parents, who refused to acknowledge my PTSD diagnosis (in spite of my therapist and psychiatrist's persistence) for two years. They're both of the generation where PTSD is specific to soldiers returning from war, so it was difficult for them to accept. Eventually, a retraumatization occurred this past October, and they were both witness to it...it woke them up, in some manner of speaking.
Since then, I've been receiving even more therapy, of various sorts and degrees, and they have both been participating in an effort to understand the issues I am facing and to provide a supportive environment.
Or so I thought.
On Christmas Eve, I had a particularly nasty flashback, that resulted in me crying on the floor, rocking back-and-forth, etc. etc. I've gotten relatively good at bringing myself out of these eventually, but as I said, it was particularly rough, so I was having trouble getting myself grounded again.
My mother was very concerned, but my father completely lost it. He approached me with his finger raised and yelled "When was the last time you've been hit?????" (knowing full well that I had been hit by my original abuser). He then proceeded to tell me that I was "pathetic" and that my behavior was "all an act", that I was making everything up.
Later, when I had calmed down, we decided to have a group chat to sort through things. I asked him if he spoke the way he did because he still didn't believe I had PTSD, and he said bluntly that no he didn't believe it, and even if he did, he would never accept my behavior during the flashback as something that PTSD could cause. He said that everything I was doing was for attention.
Needless to say, we didn't have a cheery Christmas in my house this year. I wish that I was doing this for attention, because then at least I wouldn't have to live in almost constant torment because of my own mind, nor would I have to devote so much time/energy/resources to therapy, psychiatry, acupuncture, etc. etc.
But particularly because of his threat of violence, I no longer feel safe within the house. The problem is that my home (which has all of my personal belongings, as well as my cat and my mother) is my only safe place. During the initial trauma, knowing that my home and parents were there was what helped get me through. It helped me through the recent retrauma as well.
And now that is all gone. My foundation laid bare. This is causing an amount of tension I can't handle in my already diminished state, on top of putting my poor mother in the center of an irreconcilable issue.
I simply don't know what to do at this point. It took me several months to feel like I was making progress after the retrauma in October, and just as I was beginning to see the light, another wrench was thrown in my recovery. I keep thinking it can't get any worse...but I don't know what to do about this.
Firstly, I hope you had a lovely Christmas (if you celebrate it), and if you're having an okay time during this holiday season.
My trauma dates back two years, when I was in an abusive relationship for several months that I could not escape (it was physically, emotionally, verbally abusive and financially exploitative as well...bad news).
When I got out of the relationship, I moved back in with my parents, who refused to acknowledge my PTSD diagnosis (in spite of my therapist and psychiatrist's persistence) for two years. They're both of the generation where PTSD is specific to soldiers returning from war, so it was difficult for them to accept. Eventually, a retraumatization occurred this past October, and they were both witness to it...it woke them up, in some manner of speaking.
Since then, I've been receiving even more therapy, of various sorts and degrees, and they have both been participating in an effort to understand the issues I am facing and to provide a supportive environment.
Or so I thought.
On Christmas Eve, I had a particularly nasty flashback, that resulted in me crying on the floor, rocking back-and-forth, etc. etc. I've gotten relatively good at bringing myself out of these eventually, but as I said, it was particularly rough, so I was having trouble getting myself grounded again.
My mother was very concerned, but my father completely lost it. He approached me with his finger raised and yelled "When was the last time you've been hit?????" (knowing full well that I had been hit by my original abuser). He then proceeded to tell me that I was "pathetic" and that my behavior was "all an act", that I was making everything up.
Later, when I had calmed down, we decided to have a group chat to sort through things. I asked him if he spoke the way he did because he still didn't believe I had PTSD, and he said bluntly that no he didn't believe it, and even if he did, he would never accept my behavior during the flashback as something that PTSD could cause. He said that everything I was doing was for attention.
Needless to say, we didn't have a cheery Christmas in my house this year. I wish that I was doing this for attention, because then at least I wouldn't have to live in almost constant torment because of my own mind, nor would I have to devote so much time/energy/resources to therapy, psychiatry, acupuncture, etc. etc.
But particularly because of his threat of violence, I no longer feel safe within the house. The problem is that my home (which has all of my personal belongings, as well as my cat and my mother) is my only safe place. During the initial trauma, knowing that my home and parents were there was what helped get me through. It helped me through the recent retrauma as well.
And now that is all gone. My foundation laid bare. This is causing an amount of tension I can't handle in my already diminished state, on top of putting my poor mother in the center of an irreconcilable issue.
I simply don't know what to do at this point. It took me several months to feel like I was making progress after the retrauma in October, and just as I was beginning to see the light, another wrench was thrown in my recovery. I keep thinking it can't get any worse...but I don't know what to do about this.
