AuntFerret
New Here
I was diagnosed about a year and a half ago by a psychologist I went to because of the intrusive, repetitive thoughts and memories. They were tearing me to bits. The thoughts and feelings had been getting worse for years, (a decade at that point) but now I just wasn't able to function in peace. I *could* not turn them off. They'd start, and I'd lose huge chunks of time wrapped up in them, as angry as the day of the events that created the memories. The anger, the outrage was just as strong, it was like everything was newly minted and powerful for it. I imagined the things I should have done, wish I had done, could still do.
After a time the the psychologist diagnosed PTSD and I was shocked. I thought that was for soldiers, for beaten wives or children. For rape victims. For victims of terrible violence. I went home and looked up the symptoms of PTSD and lo and behold, the Harvard educated psychologist was on to something.
My "trauma?" honestly had nothing to do with my Mother's allowing her boyfriend into my pants when I was 16, 17. He didn't get his hooks into me, and he wanted me very badly. Plus he has had to spend all of these years with himself in a career that I know he hates. That's all fine with me. I'm 48 now, and he is old history. I got past it.
My "tauma" was dealing with my Mother and her three sisters. They are so tight, so eccentric, that collectively they form their own sub-culture, and they chew up and spit out anyone who challenges them and their world-view. I am on good terms with only one of my aunts. She says that my "sin" was none of the ones the others cite, it was having the balls to stand up against them. I think there may be something to that.
I could write a book about the four of them. Maybe someday I will, but you better believe it won't be while any of them are still alive! I include my Mother in that. I turned my back and walked off of the team thirteen years ago. I don't regret it. It was the healthiest thing for me to do. I could write ten pages about how dysfunctional these people are...Please just take my word for it. They need their own reality show.
My only regret is that I did not go to visit the Psychologist *years* earlier, I thought that I would just have to deal with the intrusive thoughts, the repeating memories on a loop...the rage attacks, the "missed" time. I do, but not alone, and in a supportive therapeutic framework, and with the *insight* that has been such a comfort. I'm not just a failure as a person, unable to control her feelings or let go of the past.
It's just a very sad irony that they comprise virtually all of my family.
After a time the the psychologist diagnosed PTSD and I was shocked. I thought that was for soldiers, for beaten wives or children. For rape victims. For victims of terrible violence. I went home and looked up the symptoms of PTSD and lo and behold, the Harvard educated psychologist was on to something.
My "trauma?" honestly had nothing to do with my Mother's allowing her boyfriend into my pants when I was 16, 17. He didn't get his hooks into me, and he wanted me very badly. Plus he has had to spend all of these years with himself in a career that I know he hates. That's all fine with me. I'm 48 now, and he is old history. I got past it.
My "tauma" was dealing with my Mother and her three sisters. They are so tight, so eccentric, that collectively they form their own sub-culture, and they chew up and spit out anyone who challenges them and their world-view. I am on good terms with only one of my aunts. She says that my "sin" was none of the ones the others cite, it was having the balls to stand up against them. I think there may be something to that.
I could write a book about the four of them. Maybe someday I will, but you better believe it won't be while any of them are still alive! I include my Mother in that. I turned my back and walked off of the team thirteen years ago. I don't regret it. It was the healthiest thing for me to do. I could write ten pages about how dysfunctional these people are...Please just take my word for it. They need their own reality show.
My only regret is that I did not go to visit the Psychologist *years* earlier, I thought that I would just have to deal with the intrusive thoughts, the repeating memories on a loop...the rage attacks, the "missed" time. I do, but not alone, and in a supportive therapeutic framework, and with the *insight* that has been such a comfort. I'm not just a failure as a person, unable to control her feelings or let go of the past.
It's just a very sad irony that they comprise virtually all of my family.
