J
Jugsaw
Dear Diary, where to begin its very difficult when life jumps forward back and sideways so often. I haven't been diagnosed with PTSD but this week after reading about it yes maybe that's it you readers can help me out with that hopefully.
My symptoms the overwhelming ones are not being able to breath for days weeks months on end no let up no sleep my heart pounds my ribs hurt I feel like a bowling ball has taken residence in my chest it becomes painful to eat food ...its not being able to breath that ruins my life my interactions what I'd like to do , you can't do anything when you can't even get enough air to talk. I'm luckily a master at shallow breathing and appear to be functioning but my fuse is non existent, my face ages 10 years and I'm just so disappointed in myself for doing this to myself.
Drs have told me after tests such as lung xrays and asthma checks that this is just in my head. I did after 2 years of not being able to eat pay for a tube to be stuck down my throat which found sore bleeding stomach lining, I was advised to stay away from stress as I'm on my way to getting a huge ulcer.
I first had these symptoms when I was 16 and revising for my GCSEs I put a lot of pressure on myself and this happened, also my jaw seized shut for 2 months that has happened only 4-5 times since.
Of course many things have happened in my life I'm 36 now but I think if I do have PTSD I think it may have been from my dad. We had the classic drunk dad domestic abuse upbringing with for me the added bonus of him hating me from the day I was born no reason just hated me. Mum said he didn't want any more children.
He didn't acknowledge me to talk to until I was about 5. He did however find the time to beat the living daylights out of me when I was four and circumstances meant he had to look after me on his own for a few hours ... I was hidden away at my aunts house until I healed up. Many other things I remember happened in my early years but I'm just focusing on what event might of set this condition off.
The other event might be when I was 11 and watching TV I could hear a shouting in the kitchen then noises then silence, silence is not good. After a while I creep down the hallway passed the sound of running water in the bathroom and peer into the kitchen , there is my mum laid out on the floor her arms at angles and her legs outstretched several kitchen draws had been thrown at her and stuff was scattered all over her, her mouth was open her eyes were open nothing moved she was dead...i didn't care ...it was going to happen one day,
I had no emotional response at all. I see blood all over the floor its leading to the bathroom. I look in the door, my dad has his back to me he is washing his hands there is blood everywhere and a huge kitchen knife on the sink. My first thought is shall I step over mum and get out the back door or shall I run up the stairs and warn my brother so he can climb out of his window onto the outhouse roof and escape, i knew dad would kill me on the stairs I'd never make it, if he killed mum he would kill us all.
Of course it wasn't a decision I was fiercely protective of my older brother a feeling that wasn't mutual but I am who I am. I ran for it I got to step 4 shouting to my brother to get out to run when I felt a hand grab me, thats it I thought and waited for the pain, strangely I welcomed the thought of death. It was my mum she wasn't dead.
My brother was halfway down the stairs we flung the front door open and ran for our lives we ran so fast none of us looking back ...,Me and my brother were still in pajamas with no shoes running for our lives following our mum who I'd never seen move so fast. As we ran lots of other children passed us on there new bikes or roller skates laughing and playing, I could see in peoples houses families sitting round their tables enjoying their Christmas meal ...Why cant we just be like them I thought.
We got to mum's friends house and I took myself off to a corner .. All love for any human died in me that day ...I felt nothing for either parent like something had switched off, I said to myself ...your going to have to look after yourself from now on. Don't go to them for anything. Don't tell them anything. Soon you'll be old enough to not have to live with them anymore.
My dad had so it transpires reached for the knife as my mum lay on the floor, he grabbed it with such rage that in his drunken state he didn't grab the knife fully on the handle and sliced through his own hand. So a happy and kind of funny end to a scary story.
Of course there is a lot more to living daily with a parent who openly hates you and with a mother who is cold and selfish unable to say she loves you or give praise. There's a lot more to living with a violent alcoholic. There are many worse things that happened which I can deal with, but these two incidences might have triggered that flight or fight to go haywire? Its my body that lets me down my mind is strong .
My symptoms the overwhelming ones are not being able to breath for days weeks months on end no let up no sleep my heart pounds my ribs hurt I feel like a bowling ball has taken residence in my chest it becomes painful to eat food ...its not being able to breath that ruins my life my interactions what I'd like to do , you can't do anything when you can't even get enough air to talk. I'm luckily a master at shallow breathing and appear to be functioning but my fuse is non existent, my face ages 10 years and I'm just so disappointed in myself for doing this to myself.
Drs have told me after tests such as lung xrays and asthma checks that this is just in my head. I did after 2 years of not being able to eat pay for a tube to be stuck down my throat which found sore bleeding stomach lining, I was advised to stay away from stress as I'm on my way to getting a huge ulcer.
I first had these symptoms when I was 16 and revising for my GCSEs I put a lot of pressure on myself and this happened, also my jaw seized shut for 2 months that has happened only 4-5 times since.
Of course many things have happened in my life I'm 36 now but I think if I do have PTSD I think it may have been from my dad. We had the classic drunk dad domestic abuse upbringing with for me the added bonus of him hating me from the day I was born no reason just hated me. Mum said he didn't want any more children.
He didn't acknowledge me to talk to until I was about 5. He did however find the time to beat the living daylights out of me when I was four and circumstances meant he had to look after me on his own for a few hours ... I was hidden away at my aunts house until I healed up. Many other things I remember happened in my early years but I'm just focusing on what event might of set this condition off.
The other event might be when I was 11 and watching TV I could hear a shouting in the kitchen then noises then silence, silence is not good. After a while I creep down the hallway passed the sound of running water in the bathroom and peer into the kitchen , there is my mum laid out on the floor her arms at angles and her legs outstretched several kitchen draws had been thrown at her and stuff was scattered all over her, her mouth was open her eyes were open nothing moved she was dead...i didn't care ...it was going to happen one day,
I had no emotional response at all. I see blood all over the floor its leading to the bathroom. I look in the door, my dad has his back to me he is washing his hands there is blood everywhere and a huge kitchen knife on the sink. My first thought is shall I step over mum and get out the back door or shall I run up the stairs and warn my brother so he can climb out of his window onto the outhouse roof and escape, i knew dad would kill me on the stairs I'd never make it, if he killed mum he would kill us all.
Of course it wasn't a decision I was fiercely protective of my older brother a feeling that wasn't mutual but I am who I am. I ran for it I got to step 4 shouting to my brother to get out to run when I felt a hand grab me, thats it I thought and waited for the pain, strangely I welcomed the thought of death. It was my mum she wasn't dead.
My brother was halfway down the stairs we flung the front door open and ran for our lives we ran so fast none of us looking back ...,Me and my brother were still in pajamas with no shoes running for our lives following our mum who I'd never seen move so fast. As we ran lots of other children passed us on there new bikes or roller skates laughing and playing, I could see in peoples houses families sitting round their tables enjoying their Christmas meal ...Why cant we just be like them I thought.
We got to mum's friends house and I took myself off to a corner .. All love for any human died in me that day ...I felt nothing for either parent like something had switched off, I said to myself ...your going to have to look after yourself from now on. Don't go to them for anything. Don't tell them anything. Soon you'll be old enough to not have to live with them anymore.
My dad had so it transpires reached for the knife as my mum lay on the floor, he grabbed it with such rage that in his drunken state he didn't grab the knife fully on the handle and sliced through his own hand. So a happy and kind of funny end to a scary story.
Of course there is a lot more to living daily with a parent who openly hates you and with a mother who is cold and selfish unable to say she loves you or give praise. There's a lot more to living with a violent alcoholic. There are many worse things that happened which I can deal with, but these two incidences might have triggered that flight or fight to go haywire? Its my body that lets me down my mind is strong .
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