Hello there!
I am a female, living on the west coast of Canada.
My problems with C-PTSD stem from an unkind childhood. My father was a bi-polar alcoholic and my mother was eventually diagnosed (when I was in my mid 20s) as having Multiple Personality Disorder (now called dissociative disorder). Needless to say, both came from abusive backgrounds stretching back many generations. To the outside world we were a 'good' family, my Dad was a bank manager, we had a huge house, two expensive cars. The reality was far different.
I have struggled with depression, suicidal thoughts, food/weight issues, and anxiety disorders since I was very young. Although I do remember there being a small period of time as being happy before it all went to heck.
I was the 'caretaker' child - expected to be the one to do everything. Full dinners on the table when I was six, laundry, cleaning, etc. Any real or imagined infraction, or simply because one of my parents was having a bad day resulted in my being hit or worse. These varied from a back-hand across the face to beatings that put me in a coma for three days. At one point in therapy I was told that the repeated head trauma had probably given me microfractures of the brain. Enlightening, but completely untreatable or diagnosable short of an autopsy.
Tried various drugs, SSRIs, cyclotropics, etc., but all eventually stopped working. I would overmedicate myself or mix with alcohol to try and improve the effect but that was short lived.
I joke that I have survived two urban war zones - I mean no disrespect for those who have served in actual combat, but that is what it feels like for me. Besides my childhood, once I was starting to recover I became a foster parent to help children who had suffered. Although I know my husband and myself did a lot of good, the physical and emotional damage as a result of twelve years and over forty children was severe. It almost ended our marriage and I nearly committed suicide.
For several year I was an untreated agorophobic, afraid to answer the phone or door, or go outside without someone accompanying me. This was the point where my mother threatened to end her relationship with me if I didn't leave my husband. She was having one of her man-hating phases. I chose my husband over my mother and it cost me my relationship with my entire extended family.
Fast forward. Today I am employed earning a decent wage, although well below what my educational level is. I do not take medications, but I believe medications are an important part of therapy but infortunately there is no 'one size fits all'. I have not had a true depressive episode that has lasted more than a day or so for more than two years. I do sometimes drink too much, but I am a happy drunk instead of a maudlin abusive self-destructive drunk like my father. Things are better.
And I don't know why.
Yes, I still have problem days. I still fight my weight, I need to lose over a hundred pounds. I still feel like an outsider looking in. I still grieve for the child that is locked inside of me who never had a childhood. I still have multiple panic attacks in an average day. I still get angry at myself for not achieving all that I could have. I still hear a sound, or smell an odor and have intense flashbacks that literally put me on the ground. But somehow I have found some small semblance of peace and manage to take joy in something everyday.
I haven't forgiven those who hurt me, but I do understand how their pasts contributed in creating them and they were unable to deal and simply passed the hurt on.
Every day I tell myself that because I woke up that morning I WIN because I am alive. Because I chose to be alive I win and all those who hurt me lose.
Lynx
I am a female, living on the west coast of Canada.
My problems with C-PTSD stem from an unkind childhood. My father was a bi-polar alcoholic and my mother was eventually diagnosed (when I was in my mid 20s) as having Multiple Personality Disorder (now called dissociative disorder). Needless to say, both came from abusive backgrounds stretching back many generations. To the outside world we were a 'good' family, my Dad was a bank manager, we had a huge house, two expensive cars. The reality was far different.
I have struggled with depression, suicidal thoughts, food/weight issues, and anxiety disorders since I was very young. Although I do remember there being a small period of time as being happy before it all went to heck.
I was the 'caretaker' child - expected to be the one to do everything. Full dinners on the table when I was six, laundry, cleaning, etc. Any real or imagined infraction, or simply because one of my parents was having a bad day resulted in my being hit or worse. These varied from a back-hand across the face to beatings that put me in a coma for three days. At one point in therapy I was told that the repeated head trauma had probably given me microfractures of the brain. Enlightening, but completely untreatable or diagnosable short of an autopsy.
Tried various drugs, SSRIs, cyclotropics, etc., but all eventually stopped working. I would overmedicate myself or mix with alcohol to try and improve the effect but that was short lived.
I joke that I have survived two urban war zones - I mean no disrespect for those who have served in actual combat, but that is what it feels like for me. Besides my childhood, once I was starting to recover I became a foster parent to help children who had suffered. Although I know my husband and myself did a lot of good, the physical and emotional damage as a result of twelve years and over forty children was severe. It almost ended our marriage and I nearly committed suicide.
For several year I was an untreated agorophobic, afraid to answer the phone or door, or go outside without someone accompanying me. This was the point where my mother threatened to end her relationship with me if I didn't leave my husband. She was having one of her man-hating phases. I chose my husband over my mother and it cost me my relationship with my entire extended family.
Fast forward. Today I am employed earning a decent wage, although well below what my educational level is. I do not take medications, but I believe medications are an important part of therapy but infortunately there is no 'one size fits all'. I have not had a true depressive episode that has lasted more than a day or so for more than two years. I do sometimes drink too much, but I am a happy drunk instead of a maudlin abusive self-destructive drunk like my father. Things are better.
And I don't know why.
Yes, I still have problem days. I still fight my weight, I need to lose over a hundred pounds. I still feel like an outsider looking in. I still grieve for the child that is locked inside of me who never had a childhood. I still have multiple panic attacks in an average day. I still get angry at myself for not achieving all that I could have. I still hear a sound, or smell an odor and have intense flashbacks that literally put me on the ground. But somehow I have found some small semblance of peace and manage to take joy in something everyday.
I haven't forgiven those who hurt me, but I do understand how their pasts contributed in creating them and they were unable to deal and simply passed the hurt on.
Every day I tell myself that because I woke up that morning I WIN because I am alive. Because I chose to be alive I win and all those who hurt me lose.
Lynx
