Hello everyone!
My name is Miaoqing and I've been diagnosed with PTSD for about six months, though I have been feeling its effects for at least two years. In addition to PTSD, I suffer from panic disorder, GAD, and major depression. I was sexually abused when I was in elementary school, and when I was around eleven or so, I was raped by my brother's friend in the basement of my house. Though my memories from this time are very disjointed and blurry, I remember most clearly being choked and having my head hit against a wall, and I frequently experience flashbacks where someone has their hands around my throat. Being touched can send me into an anxiety attack, and I seem to be very easily wrung into an anxious, hyper-vigilant stupor. Even writing this article makes me extremely nervous and on-edge. In addition, I dissociate/depersonalize/derealize frequently. I am incredibly sensitive to sound, and feel increasingly distant from those around me, like I'm watching my life play out in front of me without my actually participating in it. The way I can best describe it is like I am on stage at a theater, standing in the same place the entire day, while people are changing sets behind me. Like I'm not truly existing.
It is so difficult for me to sleep at night. I have frequent nightmares that I am being raped again or that I'm being pursued by my rapists, or dreams where I am being choked. I get an average of four hours of sleep a night, though usually this sleep is fitful and choppy. Intrusive thoughts and flashbacks, like I said, are also frequent and disruptive, and I feel as though I will never be able to relate to my friends. I feel as though I am sitting in a glass jar-- or, as Sylvia Plath said, a bell jar.
In June 2016, I suffered three psychogenic non-epileptic seizures related to my PTSD, and I ended up attempting suicide on July 2, 2016. I ended up in the psych ward for six days alongside patients who beat their mothers and harassed me daily for being female and Chinese, calling me "dog eater" and repeatedly asking me to have sex with them. This experience was damaging to me and really did not help me recover from this episode. It is easily one of the darkest periods in my life, where I felt so hopeless and helpless, so thoroughly "psycho."
Recently, these symptoms have intensified to a point where it is difficult for me to work, go to school, have any kind of relationships, or really do much of anything. My work hours have been cut from forty hours a week to around four. I miss much of my classes because of the previously mentioned anxiety attacks, to the point where I have to get a 504 and miss at least two or three classes a week going to therapists and psychiatrists. I am considering disability, and am trying my best to take care of myself and to get support. I try to remind myself daily that I am not alone, that I am safe and that the people around me are not going to hurt me. It's difficult at times, but I am trying my best to recover, even if I seem to be unresponsive to the drugs I have tried so far (Zoloft, Celexa, Abilify, and now Vraylar). Most days, I feel like Sisyphus, repeatedly rolling the PTSD boulder up a hill just for it to crush me and plummet back down at the end of each day.
Thank you for reading my likely disjointed and partially coherent post. Have a great day, hope everyone is well! xx
My name is Miaoqing and I've been diagnosed with PTSD for about six months, though I have been feeling its effects for at least two years. In addition to PTSD, I suffer from panic disorder, GAD, and major depression. I was sexually abused when I was in elementary school, and when I was around eleven or so, I was raped by my brother's friend in the basement of my house. Though my memories from this time are very disjointed and blurry, I remember most clearly being choked and having my head hit against a wall, and I frequently experience flashbacks where someone has their hands around my throat. Being touched can send me into an anxiety attack, and I seem to be very easily wrung into an anxious, hyper-vigilant stupor. Even writing this article makes me extremely nervous and on-edge. In addition, I dissociate/depersonalize/derealize frequently. I am incredibly sensitive to sound, and feel increasingly distant from those around me, like I'm watching my life play out in front of me without my actually participating in it. The way I can best describe it is like I am on stage at a theater, standing in the same place the entire day, while people are changing sets behind me. Like I'm not truly existing.
It is so difficult for me to sleep at night. I have frequent nightmares that I am being raped again or that I'm being pursued by my rapists, or dreams where I am being choked. I get an average of four hours of sleep a night, though usually this sleep is fitful and choppy. Intrusive thoughts and flashbacks, like I said, are also frequent and disruptive, and I feel as though I will never be able to relate to my friends. I feel as though I am sitting in a glass jar-- or, as Sylvia Plath said, a bell jar.
In June 2016, I suffered three psychogenic non-epileptic seizures related to my PTSD, and I ended up attempting suicide on July 2, 2016. I ended up in the psych ward for six days alongside patients who beat their mothers and harassed me daily for being female and Chinese, calling me "dog eater" and repeatedly asking me to have sex with them. This experience was damaging to me and really did not help me recover from this episode. It is easily one of the darkest periods in my life, where I felt so hopeless and helpless, so thoroughly "psycho."
Recently, these symptoms have intensified to a point where it is difficult for me to work, go to school, have any kind of relationships, or really do much of anything. My work hours have been cut from forty hours a week to around four. I miss much of my classes because of the previously mentioned anxiety attacks, to the point where I have to get a 504 and miss at least two or three classes a week going to therapists and psychiatrists. I am considering disability, and am trying my best to take care of myself and to get support. I try to remind myself daily that I am not alone, that I am safe and that the people around me are not going to hurt me. It's difficult at times, but I am trying my best to recover, even if I seem to be unresponsive to the drugs I have tried so far (Zoloft, Celexa, Abilify, and now Vraylar). Most days, I feel like Sisyphus, repeatedly rolling the PTSD boulder up a hill just for it to crush me and plummet back down at the end of each day.
Thank you for reading my likely disjointed and partially coherent post. Have a great day, hope everyone is well! xx
