I’m not totally certain where I should be putting this. I don’t feel ready to say/post this, but I’m going to anyway. I’ve said “worse” stuff around here, I can probably handle this A large part of my trauma was having my reality completely twisted. I have one psychosis diagnosis from when I was 14 which I didn’t know about until I was 23, but I image it had to do with the twisted reality. It started as day dreaming/dissociation/coping with unreal circumstances. I was kept in a cage as a kid until a bit after elementary school and entertained myself with stories. Then I got “kidnapped” (weird word) and was with a pedophile and the day dreaming/story making became extremely important to me. It had been already. It slowly became maladaptive daydreaming. Most other kids were okay with it. They didn’t want to play all the time but they would at recess and other normal times. My little brother and I would act out stories in a dollhouse I had. It was obsessive but not something that ever made a child grow into a weird adult. Then I met Brandi. Something was wrong with her. She told me a demon lived in her head and she had to control it or she’s turn into a bat or panther. It was 8th grade. We were aged 13. I was 11 when I got away from the pedophile. And obviously I knew she wouldn’t turn into a panther. I was a game. I was excited to be a part of a game. So I went with it. She started dating Jamie, who had similar stories. Then Jamie broke up with Brandi because Brandi was always depressed, blaming Jamie for her mood constantly, and forbidding Jamie from having friends. Jamie wasn’t entirely innocent either but Jamie at least wanted respect and boundaries for herself. Jamie was not okay in the head either though. Killed animals and lied about her brother assaulting her for attention at school (she was best friends with this brother — it’s a long story, but I did believe her at first because I thought no one would lie about trauma. It didn’t hurt ME to believe it so it’s okay. I believe others). Had/has no empathy and was emotionally controlling. Anyway, things went south. Brandi apparently actually believed she had spirits in her head. She actually believed the stories I was telling. I thought I liked that? But I didn’t. I started feeling incredibly guilty, all the time. I tried to get help from adults in the school but they wouldn’t help. I tried to put an end to it when I was 14. When she went through my computer looking for evidence of my deceit. (???) She woke me up to tell me she saw a picture of an eye and that meant I was “lying” to her to about everythin. She made me stand by the computer while she went through every single file, interrogating me on how evil I was. So I took her to my backyard to “admit” that I had just made up stories. Backfired. She looked genuinely heartbroken for a moment, then started saying she’d kill herself, then she said she’d kill me. I told her it WAS real after that because I was scared. I was perfectly groomed from my dad, the pedophile, and even trying to keep my mom happy. I tried to tell Brandi three other times that it wasn’t real. It went bad every time. The second time I tried in high school, because I couldn’t handle the guilt. We were 15 or 16. During the rest of our friendship, she kept referencing this day and saying that it was proof that I couldn’t be trusted by anyone, and I was lucky to have her because I was weird, unfriendable by others, embarrassing to be loved by (I was still careful in college not to talk to people in public settings... in case they’re embarrassed of being seen with me — but this has changed!), embarrassing t be around, needing her constant support (I didn’t, she was twisting her need to know everything about my life even if I didn’t want to share), gross, and also socially inept. She had already banned me from having friends. If I brought it up, she’d tell me “I don’t remember saying that, and I was probably kidding.” I have that phrase memorized because she kept saying it. But the worst was having my fantasy world turned on me. Between the “mild psychosis” and all my head injuries (and at least one TBI that was “cumulative”) it may have been possible that it became easier and easier to manipulate me. She convinced me that I am a fungus, but in such a way that I feel constantly like I convinced myself, despite what three therapists and two doctors have told me. I had to be a fungus for more than 40 hours a week. Every day. Constant texting. I had to be her husband (also not a human). But also his friend, while being littleoc’s. I had to keep designing elaborate stories because she’d pick them apart to prove I was lying, and then threaten me and herself. Scary types of manipulation, but I blame myself. I wish I had known to just walk away and let her deal with her own mess. I was starting to hate her, but I also still loved her and cared about her. It wore me down into almost nothing. I now have huge problems with my identity. I even get confused if someone refers to me as “she.” Like I have to go through identities to figure out which one I REALLY am, and it doesn’t feel real. But I am healing. But I don’t have DID. This isn’t like that. But whenever Brandi got angry at me for saying I wasn’t Fungus, she started texting all my accounts at once and my brain glitched, because I’m not supposed to remember what Fungus said to her, and he wasn’t allowed to know what I knew. So my brain glitched and friends (I had friends despite Brandi!) had to help me because I was so, so confused. They do say that when I texted Brandi as Fungus, I behaved differently. They could tell something was wrong. But Brandi would quiz on what I did and didn’t know. She’d quiz Fungus too. She’d even talk about how much she hated @littleoc to Fungus to make sure. In Iceland, she accused Fungus of being unable to text constantly because I was in Iceland. Because she knew that, apparently. Brandi also told me I was psychopathic and evil for what I did to her, but I know under all my guilt that I didn’t want this. I tried to get out, several times. She destroyed my reality and I’m always scared everyone will think it was the other way around, because I feel evil when I talk about this. And in recovering from PTSD, I’m also having to “admit” I’m a human and figure out my identity. It’s confusing and uncomfortable to say. But I’m handling it okay. My question, though, is this: Am I alone in this specific kind of trauma...? I’m not alone in child abuse, pedophile’s manipulation, being “kidnapped,” having an abusive friend like Brandi who did sexual stuff to me I didn’t want, having a manipulative friend like her, or seeing death, being assaulted and sexually assaulted (even in dirty places), or even being locked up in a cage and severely neglected as a child. So far, everything I’ve said, someone has told me it either happened to them too or they had known of it/seen it first hand. I don’t like knowing that others understand, but I like knowing I’m not alone, therefore not singled out as being a freak or definitely deserving it. But I can’t find anything like this, being convinced I’m a Fungus, a childhood game and coping mechanism twisted up and gone completely wrong. Am I thinking of it wrong? Has anyone ever gone through this? (Likely, yes. Because there have been and are a lot of humans, for 100,000 years at LEAST, so I can’t be unique in this.... (???)). We also technically shouldn’t be the only intelligent life in the universe. That would be lonely, despite all the intelligent life on Earth humans have yet to fully appreciate. Thoughts? Even if you have a different trauma but also feel alone?