I was diagnosed with PTSD several years ago, but little did I know that all these crazy quirks about me fit into the criteria of symptoms. How enlightening and depressing to find that out. The initial trauma was caused by 11 years of sexual abuse, from which at the age of 14 I had a baby. During those 11 years, I was manipulated, tortured, neglected, and abused regularly. Perhaps I will feel more comfortable sharing events at a later point, but it's all I can do to open up to tell you this much. My trust level is low, which has plagued me most of my life.
I raised my son convincing myself he was someone else's, not my abuser's, but when he turned 25 there came a time he had to know who his real father was. Unbeknown to me, my son sought him out, which was easy to do since my mother was still in contact with the man. (Talk about complete betrayal!) My abuser already knew where my son was, and me too.
I was involved in a car wreck and had a heart attack in the same week, so my PTSD is out of control now. I was in water when I was having my heart attack, so now I'm deathly afraid of running water, which I'm not facing. We recently purchased a new car, but I’m terrified of driving again; I haven’t ventured outside the immediate neighborhood. Right now I don't think I could even do that.
My house was burglarized once, and my car twice. Because of that, the agoraphobia is something with which I’ve learned to live. I am not good at spur-of-the moment outings, but if I have notice, I'll go if conditions are right.
Before my heart attack....before I admitted to my son who his real father was....before the wreck, I had a normal life. I want it back so bad. Surely things cannot go on this way much longer without driving me mad.
I'm on medication, but I don't think it’s helping. In order to change meds, though, I have to go to the doctor more often, but once again, the agoraphobia and fear of cars rears their ugly heads. I know I need to back back in therapy, I don't have the energy to get dressed. I feel drained all the time; the anxieties wear me out.
I take comfort in knowing I was a good mom under trying conditions. My grown child says I was anyway.
The first time I got counseling was because my 17-year old niece committed suicide. Her father then did the same, as his mother had before him. Suicide has affected my family in some of the worst ways, and I'm just trying not to add to the numbers.
So that's my story. Is it too optimistic of me to think that by this time next year I won’t have all these issues? Because some days, hoping that the optimism pays off is all that gets me through.
I raised my son convincing myself he was someone else's, not my abuser's, but when he turned 25 there came a time he had to know who his real father was. Unbeknown to me, my son sought him out, which was easy to do since my mother was still in contact with the man. (Talk about complete betrayal!) My abuser already knew where my son was, and me too.
I was involved in a car wreck and had a heart attack in the same week, so my PTSD is out of control now. I was in water when I was having my heart attack, so now I'm deathly afraid of running water, which I'm not facing. We recently purchased a new car, but I’m terrified of driving again; I haven’t ventured outside the immediate neighborhood. Right now I don't think I could even do that.
My house was burglarized once, and my car twice. Because of that, the agoraphobia is something with which I’ve learned to live. I am not good at spur-of-the moment outings, but if I have notice, I'll go if conditions are right.
Before my heart attack....before I admitted to my son who his real father was....before the wreck, I had a normal life. I want it back so bad. Surely things cannot go on this way much longer without driving me mad.
I'm on medication, but I don't think it’s helping. In order to change meds, though, I have to go to the doctor more often, but once again, the agoraphobia and fear of cars rears their ugly heads. I know I need to back back in therapy, I don't have the energy to get dressed. I feel drained all the time; the anxieties wear me out.
I take comfort in knowing I was a good mom under trying conditions. My grown child says I was anyway.
The first time I got counseling was because my 17-year old niece committed suicide. Her father then did the same, as his mother had before him. Suicide has affected my family in some of the worst ways, and I'm just trying not to add to the numbers.
So that's my story. Is it too optimistic of me to think that by this time next year I won’t have all these issues? Because some days, hoping that the optimism pays off is all that gets me through.
