I found you guys tonight, which is ridiculous. I am a geek: one would think I’d have researched online PTSD groups about 6 months ago, but no. Treatments for PTSD? oh yes. Shrinks in my area who specialize in PTSD? Of course. In therapy now with two shrinks: did have three (one was a state victim counselor. Didn’t feel as though that was working.)
Having browsed through this introduction forum, I’m horrified at what some of you have endured, and the many, many years your situations have existed. I feel like my own situation is minor in comparison: I know one should never compare as suffering is always different for everyone, but reading THESE stories, I can’t help it.
I took in a friend six years ago. She needed a place to stay until she got back on her feet, and my dad had just passed: I was grieving and didn’t need to be alone. I figured that a month or two with a good friend to support me would be just the ticket. It was a ticket, all right -- a one way trip to a place I’ve never even imagined could exist.
Childhood great, career great. A marriage that ended badly about 10 years ago - that’s the worst relationship misery I’ve endured until now. How I could ever have been so incredibly stupid for the past 6 years -- it defies rationality. It started so slowly and escalated equally slowly. Small insults to full-blown abuse: mental, financial and finally physical.
When the police got her out of my home some 6 months ago, I figured that was it. Life would go right back to normal. Imagine my surprise when just the opposite happened: life became a nightmare of constant panic attacks, inability to leave my house, complete isolation here locally (she was a textbook predator. Isolate: ensure that my local friends would vanish. She succeeded.)
I was diagnosed with severe PTSD. For me, life now is existing between bouts of terror. Will she break in (again?) If/when she does, will she hurt me again? How can I have turned into such an utter wimp? When does the constant shaking, the panic attacks that have caused me to faint or wind up sitting wherever I might be, the memory loss, the constant fear (any small noise triggers it,) stop or at least become manageable? Three months of constant therapy and I’ll have a good couple of days, even a week but still backslide right where I started.
I’ve lost so much weight and I was skinny already. At 57, everything’s sagging badly as it is: this weight loss, well, it ain’t pretty. Or healthy. Just not hungry, and if I force myself to eat, Mr. Colitis drops in for a visit.
And that’s it. Me, in a nutshell (likely it should be a nut house! :) (Lordie lordie, I was right about one thing. Posting this triggered me badly. Got the shakes, blurred vision, the whole bit. Time for panic meds: be alright in 10 minutes.) I’m proud I did this anyway... and hopeful that I’ll be able to meet and possibly help others in similar situations.
Thanks for reading,
Cat
Having browsed through this introduction forum, I’m horrified at what some of you have endured, and the many, many years your situations have existed. I feel like my own situation is minor in comparison: I know one should never compare as suffering is always different for everyone, but reading THESE stories, I can’t help it.
I took in a friend six years ago. She needed a place to stay until she got back on her feet, and my dad had just passed: I was grieving and didn’t need to be alone. I figured that a month or two with a good friend to support me would be just the ticket. It was a ticket, all right -- a one way trip to a place I’ve never even imagined could exist.
Childhood great, career great. A marriage that ended badly about 10 years ago - that’s the worst relationship misery I’ve endured until now. How I could ever have been so incredibly stupid for the past 6 years -- it defies rationality. It started so slowly and escalated equally slowly. Small insults to full-blown abuse: mental, financial and finally physical.
When the police got her out of my home some 6 months ago, I figured that was it. Life would go right back to normal. Imagine my surprise when just the opposite happened: life became a nightmare of constant panic attacks, inability to leave my house, complete isolation here locally (she was a textbook predator. Isolate: ensure that my local friends would vanish. She succeeded.)
I was diagnosed with severe PTSD. For me, life now is existing between bouts of terror. Will she break in (again?) If/when she does, will she hurt me again? How can I have turned into such an utter wimp? When does the constant shaking, the panic attacks that have caused me to faint or wind up sitting wherever I might be, the memory loss, the constant fear (any small noise triggers it,) stop or at least become manageable? Three months of constant therapy and I’ll have a good couple of days, even a week but still backslide right where I started.
I’ve lost so much weight and I was skinny already. At 57, everything’s sagging badly as it is: this weight loss, well, it ain’t pretty. Or healthy. Just not hungry, and if I force myself to eat, Mr. Colitis drops in for a visit.
And that’s it. Me, in a nutshell (likely it should be a nut house! :) (Lordie lordie, I was right about one thing. Posting this triggered me badly. Got the shakes, blurred vision, the whole bit. Time for panic meds: be alright in 10 minutes.) I’m proud I did this anyway... and hopeful that I’ll be able to meet and possibly help others in similar situations.
Thanks for reading,
Cat
