I do not believe people know how difficult it is to interact with others when you have ptsd. Some get easely offended when you are watchful, recluseve, anxious, over extended, avoid social enviroments, and many more things. I personaly would have never known how ill my mother gets with MS; she hides her illness so well. Over the years it has become more obvious to those who knew her prior to her diagnoses. It was only when I was discharged from the service that I truly understood the concept that one could be so ill emotionally or physicaly bad off and can hide it under the onion peels. Unless you have been through it do not judge when that person can hardly hold a conversation with you. I personally can not track on a bad day. Talking to people is straining and draining. I want to crawl back in a hole and never leave. On good days it is hard and I can do it for about an hour max. After that hour I start to not track well. I will make up excuses for my behavior. I will say i have ADD, I am tired, it has been a long week, ect ect. . . what I really want to do is not say goodbye no eye contact I simply want to walk or run away.
I have (maybe had) a friend who I could not got to her graduation, social gatherings, meet her friends, the only reason I got in with her is because before I left for the Army I ran into her in college. It was an outside person from my sad crazy lonley world that I could connect with once or more year. I apologized one day and said "I am sorry I am flaky and cannot be a better friend and cancel on you all the time" she asked me why? I then felt we had been friends long enough I could open up only a crack. I told her I have PSTD. She simply said I dont believe it. You seem ok when i see you. In my mind I flashed to all the hellashis nights all the crying. Applying for jobs getting interviews and literlly crawling in my closet at home and crying. The night I OD on ambien and then realized this is BS Emily. Puked it up and survived. That was the night my Mother drove and hour to find me barley awake asking my husband why he had not told her. Why I had said nothing. How did it get this bad.
(because when you are down when you are really down and have to fake it for everyone you do not tell anyone not even your husband you just do it nothing matters well thats not right everything matters that is why you do it. It builds up after years of telling everyone "Oh I am fine, things are good, it gonna be ok. Laughing for your child then saving it for the shower to maybe cry if you feel that night.)
I have never told anyone this, maybe I am saying because it is a computer and only strangers can see my most inner world. . .
When I go to see a therapist I do not know them! I do not trust them! I do not want them! I am merely there hoping for them to snap me out of it like magic. I am there to smile and in my best words (puke, spue, vomit) out--- this is what I went through all in one appt. Now tell me what I need to do to make it go away.
I seem to get you seem like someone that will be better in a year maybe even six months. Hmmm I give them six months nothing happens partly because I do not trust them I do not know how to not pretend, I do not know how to bs the "I'm fine" response.
I was in bed for 2 years. yes I got up just like a termanily ill person took my daughter to school sometimes volunteered for her. Infact i even socialized for her. Other then doing the basics/ extras for my daughter I pretty much stayed home in bed slept for days stayed awake for days. on and on. . . Until I woke up a year ago and said Emily you are going to feel like hell NO MATTER WHAT! I looked in the mirror took a picture saw someone I did not recognize went back to therapy she said try to remember your life before PTSD, try to remember what it was like to be a kid. Do things a child would do. go outside play. It was and still is hard (if that word can decribe it) not much else she said took to me. It got me outside with my child. I play and the pain eases when my mind will let me escape memories fears ect.
So when you see me I am yet a mirror image of what I used to be, I can not talk longer than an hour (even that is taxing). When you see me you would never think or imagine my life or how everyday it is a difficult choice to even get out of bed. Leaving my house almost knocks the wind out of me. Talking to anyone might as well do me over.
When it happened to me I said just let it go. I want no bad to come to anyone. I just want to move on with my life. I want to push this away. I was good at it! I guess it all caught up with me as soon as I got my Honorable Discharge. Night quil worked but I couldnt wake up. I could not take care of my child. I could not take care of myself, a shower was/is a chore. I used to work out 3 or 4 times a day buring out through exercise used to do it for me. No one can carry on in that manner for ever and it came to an end. I was afraid to be at my house alone. I suspected EVERYONE! I still do but not to that degree. There is more but I do not feel like disclosing it all at the moment.
I wish I could be that happy little girl who knew bad things of the world but it NEVER fased her. I had hopes, I had dreams, I had a future for my family, I did not care about what lurked behind or ahead.
It was all stollen from me. The people that took it from me most likely do not care and never will. Here I am and here I will always be. The good: I can see that my mother and others like us who suffer but want our family, children, maybe even friends to know even though you feel like you are dieing you can live.
I had a few good weeks this summer where I truly felt like I was the before me. It was heaven. PURE heaven. We moved for school somewhere north somewhere drizzle and far away from my support.
I do not know if I will make it. I made it today. I will do my best to keep making it.
I have (maybe had) a friend who I could not got to her graduation, social gatherings, meet her friends, the only reason I got in with her is because before I left for the Army I ran into her in college. It was an outside person from my sad crazy lonley world that I could connect with once or more year. I apologized one day and said "I am sorry I am flaky and cannot be a better friend and cancel on you all the time" she asked me why? I then felt we had been friends long enough I could open up only a crack. I told her I have PSTD. She simply said I dont believe it. You seem ok when i see you. In my mind I flashed to all the hellashis nights all the crying. Applying for jobs getting interviews and literlly crawling in my closet at home and crying. The night I OD on ambien and then realized this is BS Emily. Puked it up and survived. That was the night my Mother drove and hour to find me barley awake asking my husband why he had not told her. Why I had said nothing. How did it get this bad.
(because when you are down when you are really down and have to fake it for everyone you do not tell anyone not even your husband you just do it nothing matters well thats not right everything matters that is why you do it. It builds up after years of telling everyone "Oh I am fine, things are good, it gonna be ok. Laughing for your child then saving it for the shower to maybe cry if you feel that night.)
I have never told anyone this, maybe I am saying because it is a computer and only strangers can see my most inner world. . .
When I go to see a therapist I do not know them! I do not trust them! I do not want them! I am merely there hoping for them to snap me out of it like magic. I am there to smile and in my best words (puke, spue, vomit) out--- this is what I went through all in one appt. Now tell me what I need to do to make it go away.
I seem to get you seem like someone that will be better in a year maybe even six months. Hmmm I give them six months nothing happens partly because I do not trust them I do not know how to not pretend, I do not know how to bs the "I'm fine" response.
I was in bed for 2 years. yes I got up just like a termanily ill person took my daughter to school sometimes volunteered for her. Infact i even socialized for her. Other then doing the basics/ extras for my daughter I pretty much stayed home in bed slept for days stayed awake for days. on and on. . . Until I woke up a year ago and said Emily you are going to feel like hell NO MATTER WHAT! I looked in the mirror took a picture saw someone I did not recognize went back to therapy she said try to remember your life before PTSD, try to remember what it was like to be a kid. Do things a child would do. go outside play. It was and still is hard (if that word can decribe it) not much else she said took to me. It got me outside with my child. I play and the pain eases when my mind will let me escape memories fears ect.
So when you see me I am yet a mirror image of what I used to be, I can not talk longer than an hour (even that is taxing). When you see me you would never think or imagine my life or how everyday it is a difficult choice to even get out of bed. Leaving my house almost knocks the wind out of me. Talking to anyone might as well do me over.
When it happened to me I said just let it go. I want no bad to come to anyone. I just want to move on with my life. I want to push this away. I was good at it! I guess it all caught up with me as soon as I got my Honorable Discharge. Night quil worked but I couldnt wake up. I could not take care of my child. I could not take care of myself, a shower was/is a chore. I used to work out 3 or 4 times a day buring out through exercise used to do it for me. No one can carry on in that manner for ever and it came to an end. I was afraid to be at my house alone. I suspected EVERYONE! I still do but not to that degree. There is more but I do not feel like disclosing it all at the moment.
I wish I could be that happy little girl who knew bad things of the world but it NEVER fased her. I had hopes, I had dreams, I had a future for my family, I did not care about what lurked behind or ahead.
It was all stollen from me. The people that took it from me most likely do not care and never will. Here I am and here I will always be. The good: I can see that my mother and others like us who suffer but want our family, children, maybe even friends to know even though you feel like you are dieing you can live.
I had a few good weeks this summer where I truly felt like I was the before me. It was heaven. PURE heaven. We moved for school somewhere north somewhere drizzle and far away from my support.
I do not know if I will make it. I made it today. I will do my best to keep making it.
