I've been experiencing waves of intrusive thoughts and beliefs that I cannot trust people in my life.
Over time, the most important thing anyone has ever told me was pretty simple in theory but not as easy in practice. He said, "you are supposed to love people, no one said a damned thing about trusting them. Trust means you are putting expectations on people."
As a severely damaged little girl trying to make it in a cruel world, I often have a desire to reach out and make allies who understand where I have been and who I am now on some deep and meaningful level in order to feel like I belong on this planet. Unfortunately, this has been a huge invitation for disaster.
The level of damage I have taken in life has resulted in a lot of broken relationships. That feeling that I could not trust people has been pretty accurate most of the time. The only person in my life I concern myself with trusting now is my husband. Everyone else, I just try to interact with without expecting much. My best friend has PTSD, too. I know she means to be trustworthy but even she is a wild card because of her own relationship issues.
I think I have some notion of how unhealthy this sounds but it works out a lot better for me to just be out there doing my job as a silent partner in whatever project than to be hoping that people get me, care about me or even understand. Most of them do not or will not. The fact that I have survived 40 years of this life makes me seem just a little bit dangerous and out of place in
most situations.
As for my husband, we have had our moments but in my deepest, innermost being, I know he loves me. I remember those horrible times when he cried with me while I held my little dog when he was put down, when my sister asked to talk to me for the first time in many years and he boldly but kindly said, "sure, but I'm not leaving," while he squeezed my hand, when I taught him to help my grandfather to the bathroom and he did it for days, etc. and it gets me through my rough patches of distrust. We talk, too, but it's memories of his actions that help me to remember that he's committed - that he's on my side even when my side is all screwed up.
I don't know if these things are helpful or just some sort of dysfunctional coping mechanisms I try to keep active in my life. They seem to be working for me better than earlier attempts at human interaction. I'm not breaking down into a pool of goo every other day, anymore. I work on me and let others work on themselves. We don't usually mesh but we manage to get along. I don't need much in the way of trustworthiness because I'm not looking for people to trust, in general. I don't tell people much about me, so they can't hurt me with what they know. Even my mother-in-law doesn't know I have cPTSD.