I've been lurking and reading these forums for months now. I've found so much information, from the articles to the frank conversations that have taken place, that have helped me. Today I took the leap and signed up.
I started reading here because I was sort of seeing someone at the end of last year, a combat vet with PTSD, and I wanted to understand more about the condition. We are still friends, but he moved for a job and we both agreed we were neither of us in a place to have, or want, a dating style relationship.
My story is complicated, and a bit long. I'll do my best.
I was born and raised in a cult in California. I do not wish to name it, but I have been out for about 7 years. I have kids, one of whom decided to join the cult. Part of the teachings in the cult refuses to acknowledge mental illness, so I grew up not knowing anything about mental conditions, psychology, medicines, etc. I've been on a rather steep learning curve the years since I left. Depression, anxiety, PTSD - I knew nothing.
I was in a car accident when I was young that - I have recently discovered through a functional MRI - left me with brain scarring that will never heal. It explained so much about my childhood, my learning disabilities, and my struggles with specific areas of my life. I broke down and cried out of relief when I found out I wasn't "crazy" or "strange" for spiritual reasons, just physical ones. I've adapted well, or so I'm told, but it was still a relief to be able to point to something real if that makes sense.
Two years ago, in the space of 16 months I lost my sister to a drug overdose, my brother to suicide and my husband of 20 years to cancer. The cancer was aggressive and fast, i.e. 6 months, and was brutal to watch. I feel lost every day without him. I held him as he died, and it wasn't pretty. It was awful, and ugly and nasty and I still break down crying every time I remember those last five minutes of being helpless. In the space of a breath my best friend was...gone.
Needless to say, I started a fast spiral down of depression and drinking. I remember very little of that year. I finally picked myself up and started therapy. I got on an anti-depressant (a huge NO NO in the cult I grew up in) and it helped for a bit. Unfortunately, therapy also dragged up some pretty ugly flashbacks and memories of severe sexual abuse as a child that I had suppressed.
My abuser was never brought to justice, I was never taken to a doctor, and the whole thing was buried as if it never happened. I've had independent confirmation from several people that my memories were accurate, what was done, and what happened. I don't know whether to be glad it wasn't my brain playing make believe, or hateful that it got dredged up.
Needless to say, I ended up being diagnosed with PTSD myself a few months ago. I don't know how to feel about it, but I know it's correct. It scares me. I scare me. I don't sleep well, if at all, but my training and discipline refuses to let me slow down. At least I'm not drinking to black out every night anymore. I'm trying to do the right things, take care of myself, eat healthier, take breaks when I need them, but it just feels so endless, and pointless. And painful.
This site and all of the peoples stories that I have been reading have been my safe harbor for months now. Thank you all for, I don't know, being honest and being willing to share. Thank you for reading my long ass post. I hope to interact with more of you.
I started reading here because I was sort of seeing someone at the end of last year, a combat vet with PTSD, and I wanted to understand more about the condition. We are still friends, but he moved for a job and we both agreed we were neither of us in a place to have, or want, a dating style relationship.
My story is complicated, and a bit long. I'll do my best.
I was born and raised in a cult in California. I do not wish to name it, but I have been out for about 7 years. I have kids, one of whom decided to join the cult. Part of the teachings in the cult refuses to acknowledge mental illness, so I grew up not knowing anything about mental conditions, psychology, medicines, etc. I've been on a rather steep learning curve the years since I left. Depression, anxiety, PTSD - I knew nothing.
I was in a car accident when I was young that - I have recently discovered through a functional MRI - left me with brain scarring that will never heal. It explained so much about my childhood, my learning disabilities, and my struggles with specific areas of my life. I broke down and cried out of relief when I found out I wasn't "crazy" or "strange" for spiritual reasons, just physical ones. I've adapted well, or so I'm told, but it was still a relief to be able to point to something real if that makes sense.
Two years ago, in the space of 16 months I lost my sister to a drug overdose, my brother to suicide and my husband of 20 years to cancer. The cancer was aggressive and fast, i.e. 6 months, and was brutal to watch. I feel lost every day without him. I held him as he died, and it wasn't pretty. It was awful, and ugly and nasty and I still break down crying every time I remember those last five minutes of being helpless. In the space of a breath my best friend was...gone.
Needless to say, I started a fast spiral down of depression and drinking. I remember very little of that year. I finally picked myself up and started therapy. I got on an anti-depressant (a huge NO NO in the cult I grew up in) and it helped for a bit. Unfortunately, therapy also dragged up some pretty ugly flashbacks and memories of severe sexual abuse as a child that I had suppressed.
My abuser was never brought to justice, I was never taken to a doctor, and the whole thing was buried as if it never happened. I've had independent confirmation from several people that my memories were accurate, what was done, and what happened. I don't know whether to be glad it wasn't my brain playing make believe, or hateful that it got dredged up.
Needless to say, I ended up being diagnosed with PTSD myself a few months ago. I don't know how to feel about it, but I know it's correct. It scares me. I scare me. I don't sleep well, if at all, but my training and discipline refuses to let me slow down. At least I'm not drinking to black out every night anymore. I'm trying to do the right things, take care of myself, eat healthier, take breaks when I need them, but it just feels so endless, and pointless. And painful.
This site and all of the peoples stories that I have been reading have been my safe harbor for months now. Thank you all for, I don't know, being honest and being willing to share. Thank you for reading my long ass post. I hope to interact with more of you.
