Hi everyone.
After reading a bunch of posts and comments I do not feel so alone. I have read this site off/on for a few years now, however; only got up the courage to post now.
My story is similar to many here. Long years of repeated abuse by others. And by me to me.
I am so unsure of how much to tell and what to tell about my story. I will just be honest, and hope that it isn't the wrong thing to say.
Ever since I can remember, I have been scared and alone. I was raised in the bush in a very remote place (one + hours in a float plane), and lived/raised by an abusive alcoholic father and a narcissist vacant mother. Don't get me wrong, I still love both of these people dearly, however; cannot ever seem to be good enough for them. After 41 years on this earth you'd think I would realize that I cannot make them love me. But...I keep trying and failing and crying about it.
I was molested from 3-10, took him to court. Had a lawyer who was found to be in contempt of court by not handling my case properly. Lost my case. Small town. Got mocked a lot. My own parents did not believe me for years. Was not allowed to be honest.
My father beat my mom and I until we both left him. I left at 16, she left when I was 21, and she was in her 40's. I am sure she has PTSD too, although since she is a healing practitioner, she believes that she has 'fixed' herself, and that if I would just listen to her, I would be fine too.
I was drugged and date raped by two men at 21, and had two boyfriends beat me up later in life. The second was when I was 30, and lived by playing dead.
I developed an alcohol addiction, and spent 20k (all of the money I could find/sell/get) to go to therapy/rehab twice. Met a policeman who I became attached to. After 6 months after rehab we started dating. I spent 10 days with him, returned home to get my dog/life and move down toward his aread. A few days later, he drank himself to death, but called me while dying to help him. I was drinking, but not drunk. I called my local (small town) 911, no one answered. I panicked and could not remember his exact address. I drove to the police station. They put me in jail instead of helping me. I lost my license due to refusing to blow. I was not in my vehicle at the time, and did not understand my legal rights.
I met another guy, who although seemed well respected in his field and liked, tried to convince me that I needed to go to a psychiatric ward, for an indefinite amount of time while he worked behind my back to take over my house, my mother and my business. Got rid of him. Although he, of course, blames it all on me and my 'drinking'.
It has been almost three years now, and only now/recently (within the last year) have I been diagnosed with PTSD. I have been diagnosed with OCD, social anxiety, general anxiety, PTSD, depression, and addiction. I also have suicidal tendencies.
I have been in therapy since I was a little, little girl due to my outbursts, and doctors have only wanted to medicate me instead of listening to me. My own parents are horribly distant and think it is all in my head. I am scared, alone and feel victimized. My friends do not appreciate my 'neediness', and are slowly all fading away.
I am trying. I honestly think I am. I have been in therapy since I was 13. I have a therapist now, thankfully a fairly good one. I take sleeping pills due to not being able to sleep without flashbacks and screaming episodes nightly. I read as much as I can. I try to be honest. I reach out. But, it seems like people just do not care or do not understand. I don't really expect them to, but I do expect my friends to at least listen. But, they won't do that anymore. Even the ones with PTSD themselves (diagnosed themselves after I got diagnosed) are less than helpful or loving. Maybe it is me that is too needy. I went off of all of the anti-depressants I was prescribed, due to getting more anxiety from the pills. Every pill I have taken has given me double anxiety. I do take Ativan every couple of days, when I just cannot focus in any way, so that I can lay down and rest. I am not addicted, and only take .5 mg now and then. I have a deep fear of pills, and it takes me a lot of work to get a pill down my throat.
There is so much more to this story than what I have told, but I just don't know how to say it all. I don't even know if it all matters. I just wanted to write down some of my story, and I hope that I can find some peace here on this board. God bless the soul who started to talk about PTSD initially. Thank you.
After reading a bunch of posts and comments I do not feel so alone. I have read this site off/on for a few years now, however; only got up the courage to post now.
My story is similar to many here. Long years of repeated abuse by others. And by me to me.
I am so unsure of how much to tell and what to tell about my story. I will just be honest, and hope that it isn't the wrong thing to say.
Ever since I can remember, I have been scared and alone. I was raised in the bush in a very remote place (one + hours in a float plane), and lived/raised by an abusive alcoholic father and a narcissist vacant mother. Don't get me wrong, I still love both of these people dearly, however; cannot ever seem to be good enough for them. After 41 years on this earth you'd think I would realize that I cannot make them love me. But...I keep trying and failing and crying about it.
I was molested from 3-10, took him to court. Had a lawyer who was found to be in contempt of court by not handling my case properly. Lost my case. Small town. Got mocked a lot. My own parents did not believe me for years. Was not allowed to be honest.
My father beat my mom and I until we both left him. I left at 16, she left when I was 21, and she was in her 40's. I am sure she has PTSD too, although since she is a healing practitioner, she believes that she has 'fixed' herself, and that if I would just listen to her, I would be fine too.
I was drugged and date raped by two men at 21, and had two boyfriends beat me up later in life. The second was when I was 30, and lived by playing dead.
I developed an alcohol addiction, and spent 20k (all of the money I could find/sell/get) to go to therapy/rehab twice. Met a policeman who I became attached to. After 6 months after rehab we started dating. I spent 10 days with him, returned home to get my dog/life and move down toward his aread. A few days later, he drank himself to death, but called me while dying to help him. I was drinking, but not drunk. I called my local (small town) 911, no one answered. I panicked and could not remember his exact address. I drove to the police station. They put me in jail instead of helping me. I lost my license due to refusing to blow. I was not in my vehicle at the time, and did not understand my legal rights.
I met another guy, who although seemed well respected in his field and liked, tried to convince me that I needed to go to a psychiatric ward, for an indefinite amount of time while he worked behind my back to take over my house, my mother and my business. Got rid of him. Although he, of course, blames it all on me and my 'drinking'.
It has been almost three years now, and only now/recently (within the last year) have I been diagnosed with PTSD. I have been diagnosed with OCD, social anxiety, general anxiety, PTSD, depression, and addiction. I also have suicidal tendencies.
I have been in therapy since I was a little, little girl due to my outbursts, and doctors have only wanted to medicate me instead of listening to me. My own parents are horribly distant and think it is all in my head. I am scared, alone and feel victimized. My friends do not appreciate my 'neediness', and are slowly all fading away.
I am trying. I honestly think I am. I have been in therapy since I was 13. I have a therapist now, thankfully a fairly good one. I take sleeping pills due to not being able to sleep without flashbacks and screaming episodes nightly. I read as much as I can. I try to be honest. I reach out. But, it seems like people just do not care or do not understand. I don't really expect them to, but I do expect my friends to at least listen. But, they won't do that anymore. Even the ones with PTSD themselves (diagnosed themselves after I got diagnosed) are less than helpful or loving. Maybe it is me that is too needy. I went off of all of the anti-depressants I was prescribed, due to getting more anxiety from the pills. Every pill I have taken has given me double anxiety. I do take Ativan every couple of days, when I just cannot focus in any way, so that I can lay down and rest. I am not addicted, and only take .5 mg now and then. I have a deep fear of pills, and it takes me a lot of work to get a pill down my throat.
There is so much more to this story than what I have told, but I just don't know how to say it all. I don't even know if it all matters. I just wanted to write down some of my story, and I hope that I can find some peace here on this board. God bless the soul who started to talk about PTSD initially. Thank you.
