Hi. I was diagnosed with C-PTSD recently at age 36. I've been struggling with mental health issues and trauma my entire life, but it's gone untreated and largely unnoticed until I had a complete breakdown at work and lost my job. I'm trying to pick up the pieces now and hoping to connect with others in similar positions here.
I'll try to summarise my story.
I grew up with heroin-addicted parents and a younger sister who has infantile autism and a number of physical and mental handicaps, including some that are self-inflicted by head trauma (she self-harms by bashing her head very hard against the walls and floors). Due to the severity of my sister's illness, doctors and social services mainly focused on her and I always felt too guilty to speak up about the neglect I experienced from my parents, as it seemed so insignificant next to her suffering. There were constant attempts by social services to place my sister in foster homes or institutions, and eventually she was (which was a blessing for everyone, especially her). My parents fought tooth and nail to keep her at home, however, despite the fact that they couldn't meet her most basic needs (including feeding and clothing). After she was removed, they reacted by clinging to me and isolating me, keeping me away from school, etc.
I grew up feeling that my most important task in life was to mask my distress and perform well, so I wouldn't be taken away, too. I guess I felt it was my job to redeem my parents in the eyes of the world by proving that they could raise a high-functioning child despite their addiction and dysfunction. That quest never really ended for me. I was able to put myself through university with top marks and go on to perform well in a demanding job. At the same time I was (and still am) my sister's legal guardian and my parents' caretaker (esp. my dad who is a hoarder and has been homeless at times). I never saw a therapist or received any other kind of professional help, and told myself I didn't need it. I married a man who, despite being a truly good person, has issues of his own and needs me to provide for him.
I felt very depressed, lonely and invisible as a child. For long periods I suffered from an inability to speak in social situations (selective mutism). As a young adult, I felt like I slowly glued myself back together, but there were still all these fine cracks in me. After five years of overperforming at university and six years in the demanding job, those cracks started to show until I fell apart. I cried at work, had panic attacks, fights with coworkers, the whole deal. It was mortifying for me. I felt like I was changing into some kind of monster - and my coworkers probably felt the same, since they were used to seeing me as a healthy, competent person.
I'm honestly happy now that I lost the job. I feel an immense sense of relief to be free from it, to be able to stop performing and admit that I'm not well at all. And most of all to finally let other parts of myself show, the ones I've kept hidden out of fear. For the first time, I can admit that I don't really want a lot of "normal" stuff (don't want kids, don't want a 9-17 job, don't actually care about having a career - I'd much rather be an artist). Now I just need to figure out how to move on from here without repeating the same cycle in a different arena. My biggest concern is that this immense sense of relief and freedom will turn into chaos, or make me start something wild and adventurous that I'm not actually well enough to cope with yet.
Thanks to anyone who read this. I look forward to sharing experiences and mutual support with you guys. This seems like a good place for that.
I'll try to summarise my story.
I grew up with heroin-addicted parents and a younger sister who has infantile autism and a number of physical and mental handicaps, including some that are self-inflicted by head trauma (she self-harms by bashing her head very hard against the walls and floors). Due to the severity of my sister's illness, doctors and social services mainly focused on her and I always felt too guilty to speak up about the neglect I experienced from my parents, as it seemed so insignificant next to her suffering. There were constant attempts by social services to place my sister in foster homes or institutions, and eventually she was (which was a blessing for everyone, especially her). My parents fought tooth and nail to keep her at home, however, despite the fact that they couldn't meet her most basic needs (including feeding and clothing). After she was removed, they reacted by clinging to me and isolating me, keeping me away from school, etc.
I grew up feeling that my most important task in life was to mask my distress and perform well, so I wouldn't be taken away, too. I guess I felt it was my job to redeem my parents in the eyes of the world by proving that they could raise a high-functioning child despite their addiction and dysfunction. That quest never really ended for me. I was able to put myself through university with top marks and go on to perform well in a demanding job. At the same time I was (and still am) my sister's legal guardian and my parents' caretaker (esp. my dad who is a hoarder and has been homeless at times). I never saw a therapist or received any other kind of professional help, and told myself I didn't need it. I married a man who, despite being a truly good person, has issues of his own and needs me to provide for him.
I felt very depressed, lonely and invisible as a child. For long periods I suffered from an inability to speak in social situations (selective mutism). As a young adult, I felt like I slowly glued myself back together, but there were still all these fine cracks in me. After five years of overperforming at university and six years in the demanding job, those cracks started to show until I fell apart. I cried at work, had panic attacks, fights with coworkers, the whole deal. It was mortifying for me. I felt like I was changing into some kind of monster - and my coworkers probably felt the same, since they were used to seeing me as a healthy, competent person.
I'm honestly happy now that I lost the job. I feel an immense sense of relief to be free from it, to be able to stop performing and admit that I'm not well at all. And most of all to finally let other parts of myself show, the ones I've kept hidden out of fear. For the first time, I can admit that I don't really want a lot of "normal" stuff (don't want kids, don't want a 9-17 job, don't actually care about having a career - I'd much rather be an artist). Now I just need to figure out how to move on from here without repeating the same cycle in a different arena. My biggest concern is that this immense sense of relief and freedom will turn into chaos, or make me start something wild and adventurous that I'm not actually well enough to cope with yet.
Thanks to anyone who read this. I look forward to sharing experiences and mutual support with you guys. This seems like a good place for that.