Actually, people CAN hide PTSD very, very well. I hid it for about 47 years. That's how long it took for the amnestic walls of denial to come down and show me exactly how severe my symptoms have been and still are. One of the criteria for DDNOS is severe dissociation. Rather than use C-PTSD, the mental health community has decided to call the extreme end of the (C)PTSD continuum to be DDNOS.
Because of extreme physical and mental bullying, I learned to dissociate. Because of other extreme forms of abuse and neglect, I learned to dissociate. Because of my ability to dissociate, I wasn't able to graduate high school. This didn't stop me. By the time I had a breakdown in 2011, I had also managed to raise a son single handedly, live in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in one of the most expensive cities in the U.S. I worked in the Financial District of said city earning a salary that most people have to get a degree to be paid. Did I forget to mention that in addition to denying my childhood abuse for almost 47, I spent 20 of those 47 living with violent men, drinking and using opiates, and generally living a highly dysfunctional adult PRIVATE life? In spite of all of this drama, as people like to call it, I appeared to be your average, normal, friendly person outside the horrors of home life.
Inside of all of this, I was and still am a hurting, sad, angry little girl. I hid my PTSD very, very well.
Because of extreme physical and mental bullying, I learned to dissociate. Because of other extreme forms of abuse and neglect, I learned to dissociate. Because of my ability to dissociate, I wasn't able to graduate high school. This didn't stop me. By the time I had a breakdown in 2011, I had also managed to raise a son single handedly, live in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in one of the most expensive cities in the U.S. I worked in the Financial District of said city earning a salary that most people have to get a degree to be paid. Did I forget to mention that in addition to denying my childhood abuse for almost 47, I spent 20 of those 47 living with violent men, drinking and using opiates, and generally living a highly dysfunctional adult PRIVATE life? In spite of all of this drama, as people like to call it, I appeared to be your average, normal, friendly person outside the horrors of home life.
Inside of all of this, I was and still am a hurting, sad, angry little girl. I hid my PTSD very, very well.