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Sufferer Hello, my PTSD darkest moment

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oscarette999

New Here
Hello!

I have a 25 year history of severe mental illness, and am now in my late 30’s.
I had my first psychotic episode at aged 12, not caused by an event in my life, but a probable hormone imbalance at puberty. I have been on antipsychotics and antidepressants since. I have also had 5 hospital admissions ranging from a few weeks to 5 months.

But nothing could have prepared me for my second hospital admission, when I was 17. I was severely neglected by staff, who allowed me to starve myself down two and a half stone in 4 months. I was starving myself for days at a time, with 5 being the longest time without food. I was missing from 99% of mealtimes, and no staff member cared. I am 6 feet tall, and came out a size 8-10, which was not a natural size for me to be. When I did eat a small meal once or twice a week, I tried to make myself sick. Other staff members had made fun of my shrinking frame, by telling me how much weight I was putting on. That fuelled me even further.
I was too scared of staff to ask them to open the kitchen to get a drink, so re-filled water bottles up in the communal bathroom. I was told my escalating levels of self harm were ‘attention seeking’, ‘my responsibility’ and ‘my own decision’. I had never needed hospital treatment for my injuries, let alone an operation in an operating theatre or stitches. I was not given adequate medication to manage the extreme symptoms of my psychosis and left to fester in my own scary internal world. I was manipulated by staff who told me I was ‘lucky’ to be in a well staffed adolescent unit and told scary stories about adult units.

In the end, I had endured enough. I was friends with another patient, and we managed to run away from the unit. I wanted freedom, but not known to me, she had other plans…..

My friend, who I will call ‘X’, was a year younger than me, and it became quickly apparent my role was to turn to carer.
While separated in a supermarket, I didn’t know she stole more than 5 packets of over the counter painkillers. I found her in the medication isle, but it didn’t register with me that she could have done something bad. She also threatened to throw herself under a train at a station, while we waited on the platform. It was only my bursting into tears that stopped her deathly trance.

I was alone with her, and was scared of what she could do, but I was also scared of her leaving me in a temper and coming to harm.

At the main train station she used the bathroom, but on returning to me, her entire bottle of water was empty. I was now beyond suspicious, but again, said nothing with worry about her reaction.

We headed out of the city and into the country side. It was snowing heavily and minus 6 degrees celsius, and I was severely underdressed in only jeans and a knitted jumper.
We arrived at the desolately remote train station on the last train at 11pm.
We had snow exposure for 4 hours, and were completely alone.
X was very tired and she lay on a low level wall with her head on my lap. I was shaking uncontrollably for these 4 hours, and talking jibberish to her. I never received a reply.
Suddenly at 03:30am, she sat up and started being sick. I grabbed my mobile and luckily had a signal. I called the ambulance, who when arrived, went through her bag, and my heart sank. She had taken over 70 tablets with the foil wrappers still torn about in her bag. Apparently another 20 minutes, and it would have been too late.

In the ambulance, I was already blaming myself, and was too scared to even hold her hand, incase I made her worse. I had done enough damage for one night.

X was rushed away for treatment, and a staff member from the adolescent unit came to pick me up in a cab. I was taken back to the city and on my arrival was not allowed to wash in warm water to stop me shaking. My clothes were wet through with melted snow, but I was sent to my room. I got into bed and shivered for another 3 hours.

Three days past, and I was already having a live ‘video’ playing in my head intrusively of the night we ran away. I also couldn’t sleep and was having nightmares and my voice was so small, staff were shouting at me to ‘speak up’.

I was in such deep emotional pain, and it was all my fault.

ALL of the 30 staff on the unit blamed me too. My consultant was so angry, he was almost twitching with anger. I asked him (still in my small voice) if X could die?

He roared in my face with a scary onslaught of anger, ‘Well if she does die, it is YOUR fault’.

He left me standing there on the spot devastated, while he marched off the unit and out of sight.

X survived the overdose, and when she returned to the unit, staff gave her a hero’s welcome, with smiles, laughs and jokes. I was told to stay in my room when her parents visited because they ‘hated’ me and that the unit could not ‘guarantee my safety’.

I endured another 2 months of hellish treatment before my parents were able to remove me from the unit for my own safety. I was even scared one frightening male staff member might hurt me.

I was diagnosed with PTSD 20 years ago, and it is now so ingrained, it is now a way of life. It dictates everything.

I cannot leave the house by myself as everything in the outside feels dangerous.
I hate and blame myself completely.
I don’t dream, I only have nightmares.
I don’t trust anyone.
I have extreme anger with my memories and a overwhelming sense of betrayal for those who should have been looking after me.
I feel so hopeless and depressed.
I feel worthless.
I have intrusive thoughts, pictures and memories from my time at this unit.
I have never had a relationship, and have 1 friend.
I am so socially isolated, but stay indoors to make me feel more safe.
I don’t even pray for myself, because I am not worthy.
I cannot face being with people.
I have intense outbursts of anger.
I am also paranoid.
I feel total shame at what I am.
I still self harm on every anniversary of us running away.

To make things worse, my dad died of cancer last year.

I have been in therapy for 16 years, but I am only just going to retry EMDR.
My current therapist thinks I have CPTSD.
I hope the EMDR makes a significant difference to my life. I feel very sad because I am still stuck in 2002. I would feel devastated if this is my life forever.

I am thankful at finding this forum, and hope to find it helpful reaching out to others who suffer from this debilitating condition.

So sorry for such a long post!
 
Welcome to the forum! There is a ton of info to glean information from…when you are ready you can jump in. Staff is very good at answering questions quickly, and they are very protective of the rules we all appreciate.

I am sorry for the lifelong stuggle you have had…I am a lifetime sufferer/survivor…through therapy…prayers (mine and others FOR me) and persistence, I’m at a peaceful level for the first time in my life. I’m am 65.

EMDR helped me re-frame my daughter’s death…which knocked me down farther than I ever thought I could go. EMDR helped me recreate the last moments with her in a way that couldnt have been done otherwise. I now have a memory that gives me comfort instead of tortured memories.

You’ve found a wonderful place where I have found acceptance, compassion, and true friendships. I hope your experience is as good as mine has been!

Blessings to you on your journey!
AKJ
 
Hello!

I have a 25 year history of severe mental illness, and am now in my late 30’s.
I had my first psychotic episode at aged 12, not caused by an event in my life, but a probable hormone imbalance at puberty. I have been on antipsychotics and antidepressants since. I have also had 5 hospital admissions ranging from a few weeks to 5 months.

But nothing could have prepared me for my second hospital admission, when I was 17. I was severely neglected by staff, who allowed me to starve myself down two and a half stone in 4 months. I was starving myself for days at a time, with 5 being the longest time without food. I was missing from 99% of mealtimes, and no staff member cared. I am 6 feet tall, and came out a size 8-10, which was not a natural size for me to be. When I did eat a small meal once or twice a week, I tried to make myself sick. Other staff members had made fun of my shrinking frame, by telling me how much weight I was putting on. That fuelled me even further.
I was too scared of staff to ask them to open the kitchen to get a drink, so re-filled water bottles up in the communal bathroom. I was told my escalating levels of self harm were ‘attention seeking’, ‘my responsibility’ and ‘my own decision’. I had never needed hospital treatment for my injuries, let alone an operation in an operating theatre or stitches. I was not given adequate medication to manage the extreme symptoms of my psychosis and left to fester in my own scary internal world. I was manipulated by staff who told me I was ‘lucky’ to be in a well staffed adolescent unit and told scary stories about adult units.

In the end, I had endured enough. I was friends with another patient, and we managed to run away from the unit. I wanted freedom, but not known to me, she had other plans…..

My friend, who I will call ‘X’, was a year younger than me, and it became quickly apparent my role was to turn to carer.
While separated in a supermarket, I didn’t know she stole more than 5 packets of over the counter painkillers. I found her in the medication isle, but it didn’t register with me that she could have done something bad. She also threatened to throw herself under a train at a station, while we waited on the platform. It was only my bursting into tears that stopped her deathly trance.

I was alone with her, and was scared of what she could do, but I was also scared of her leaving me in a temper and coming to harm.

At the main train station she used the bathroom, but on returning to me, her entire bottle of water was empty. I was now beyond suspicious, but again, said nothing with worry about her reaction.

We headed out of the city and into the country side. It was snowing heavily and minus 6 degrees celsius, and I was severely underdressed in only jeans and a knitted jumper.
We arrived at the desolately remote train station on the last train at 11pm.
We had snow exposure for 4 hours, and were completely alone.
X was very tired and she lay on a low level wall with her head on my lap. I was shaking uncontrollably for these 4 hours, and talking jibberish to her. I never received a reply.
Suddenly at 03:30am, she sat up and started being sick. I grabbed my mobile and luckily had a signal. I called the ambulance, who when arrived, went through her bag, and my heart sank. She had taken over 70 tablets with the foil wrappers still torn about in her bag. Apparently another 20 minutes, and it would have been too late.

In the ambulance, I was already blaming myself, and was too scared to even hold her hand, incase I made her worse. I had done enough damage for one night.

X was rushed away for treatment, and a staff member from the adolescent unit came to pick me up in a cab. I was taken back to the city and on my arrival was not allowed to wash in warm water to stop me shaking. My clothes were wet through with melted snow, but I was sent to my room. I got into bed and shivered for another 3 hours.

Three days past, and I was already having a live ‘video’ playing in my head intrusively of the night we ran away. I also couldn’t sleep and was having nightmares and my voice was so small, staff were shouting at me to ‘speak up’.

I was in such deep emotional pain, and it was all my fault.

ALL of the 30 staff on the unit blamed me too. My consultant was so angry, he was almost twitching with anger. I asked him (still in my small voice) if X could die?

He roared in my face with a scary onslaught of anger, ‘Well if she does die, it is YOUR fault’.

He left me standing there on the spot devastated, while he marched off the unit and out of sight.

X survived the overdose, and when she returned to the unit, staff gave her a hero’s welcome, with smiles, laughs and jokes. I was told to stay in my room when her parents visited because they ‘hated’ me and that the unit could not ‘guarantee my safety’.

I endured another 2 months of hellish treatment before my parents were able to remove me from the unit for my own safety. I was even scared one frightening male staff member might hurt me.

I was diagnosed with PTSD 20 years ago, and it is now so ingrained, it is now a way of life. It dictates everything.

I cannot leave the house by myself as everything in the outside feels dangerous.
I hate and blame myself completely.
I don’t dream, I only have nightmares.
I don’t trust anyone.
I have extreme anger with my memories and a overwhelming sense of betrayal for those who should have been looking after me.
I feel so hopeless and depressed.
I feel worthless.
I have intrusive thoughts, pictures and memories from my time at this unit.
I have never had a relationship, and have 1 friend.
I am so socially isolated, but stay indoors to make me feel more safe.
I don’t even pray for myself, because I am not worthy.
I cannot face being with people.
I have intense outbursts of anger.
I am also paranoid.
I feel total shame at what I am.
I still self harm on every anniversary of us running away.

To make things worse, my dad died of cancer last year.

I have been in therapy for 16 years, but I am only just going to retry EMDR.
My current therapist thinks I have CPTSD.
I hope the EMDR makes a significant difference to my life. I feel very sad because I am still stuck in 2002. I would feel devastated if this is my life forever.

I am thankful at finding this forum, and hope to find it helpful reaching out to others who suffer from this debilitating condition.

So sorry for such a long post!
I hope you get into EMDR therapy which could help you tremendously. Its not an easy road to travel down but its possible for anyone who is willing to put themselves first to heal. Do this for yourself and be patient with yourself. You are worth it. You have survived a great deal which you can use to heal. Don't give up.
 
Welcome to the forum! There is a ton of info to glean information from…when you are ready you can jump in. Staff is very good at answering questions quickly, and they are very protective of the rules we all appreciate.

I am sorry for the lifelong stuggle you have had…I am a lifetime sufferer/survivor…through therapy…prayers (mine and others FOR me) and persistence, I’m at a peaceful level for the first time in my life. I’m am 65.

EMDR helped me re-frame my daughter’s death…which knocked me down farther than I ever thought I could go. EMDR helped me recreate the last moments with her in a way that couldnt have been done otherwise. I now have a memory that gives me comfort instead of tortured memories.

You’ve found a wonderful place where I have found acceptance, compassion, and true friendships. I hope your experience is as good as mine has been!

Blessings to you on your journey!
AKJ
Thank you so much for your warm welcome and encouragement. I am so sorry for the loss of your daughter, but I am pleased to hear that you found your EMDR treatment very helpful, and that it has given you a peaceful level of comfort in your life.
Thank you again, and take care!

I hope you get into EMDR therapy which could help you tremendously. Its not an easy road to travel down but its possible for anyone who is willing to put themselves first to heal. Do this for yourself and be patient with yourself. You are worth it. You have survived a great deal which you can use to heal. Don't give up.
Thank you so very much, Paula. I hope EMDR treatment works for me, as I have been this way for so long. However, I am willing to go through hard times if it means I can get my life back. Thank you for your encouragement too - it means a lot.
 
Welcome to the forum:)
Thank you

Welcome! Wishing you the best! For me, EMDR has been instrumental in my healing journey.
Thank you for your welcome and best wishes! It is a relief for me to hear other members have had a good/helpful/positive experience with EMDR - I had read some things that put my mind in doubt elsewhere on the internet, but to hear others positive experiences with the treatment here, has given my some hope. Thank you!
 
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