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Sufferer My Ptsd

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Hi everyone, I'm 41 years old guy coming to 42 this year.

This is going to be a long, long post I think.

Ok here I go.

At the young age of 27, which was 15 years ago, I was considered to be pretty good at what I was doing.
I'm one of the few people who managed to get a start-up going, doing some web development which was pretty popular at that time. It was going well at first, then something started to happen to me.

I couldn't know, I couldn't tell what was going on at that time. But this was how I felt at one point in time
which is wierd. Everyone, I mean, everyone, including my business partner who was my best friend, my acquaintances, slowly, became my "enemy". Unknowingly to me at that time, I was actually profiling them, and assessing them, sort of giving each and everyone of them an evaluation of their threat level.
I couldn't tell this to anyone, except for one friend whom I told him just very vaguely.

To make it worst, at this point in time, I was recalled back to the Reservist Unit, where I had to be with people I don't know. And worst of all, my PTSD, or, my expertise, tells me I was being evaluated and monitored by my section "mates", my platoon commander and my OC. It sucks. It really sucks. And I love the range, I am good with my rifle, so I'm suppose to enjoy it right, but no, the firing, the firing it triggers something. I couldn't sleep well at all in the bunk with these "mates" who are actually evaluating me.
It made my condition worst, and I would go back to the unit, then back to the office after 1 week.

This could go on for awhile, and my friend in the office which we set up together, could tell that something was wrong with me. He did asked me if everything was OK. And one of the worst things that could happen, was the nightmares. We would, as programmers, stay the night in the office for some development and chatting. And we would spend the night there in sleeping bags. And I would get my nightmares, which I woke up screaming, and my partner he was just like SHIT are you alright. I would just wake up in the middle of the night, looking at the washroom, which we had inside the office, thinking there was an enemy inside the unit.

Afterwards, it all spiral downwards, as I lost my ability to sleep at night, I would go out and wander and do god knows what stuff. And, instead of sleeping at night, I would sleep in the afternoon when I was so crap tired from not sleeping. And my best friend would be so pissed off that he dragged me (in the sleeping bag) across the office. And not long after, the business we had going, had to fold.

I was told to go and see a psychiatrist, I can't remember who told me to go, but I went, and I was expecting the psychiatrist, a lady, to talk to me, but she only spent like 10 minutes, and sent me off with some depression medication. I saw alot of doctors and the worst statement I had was "we couldn't find anything wrong with you, so you just learn to live with this", or "you look perfectly fine". And I went for MRI, and EEG, and took many different types of medi

And it just gets worst and worst for me, afterwards, I couldn't work for 3 years, and if I could, I was only working for 1-2 months, then quit, and repeat this pattern all over again, for the period of 3-4 years.
It was especially hard for me to leave the house. I remember on one occasion, I was standing at the door, reaching for the door knob to leave the house, and i just froze there, it was like I was already going to turn the knob and go outside but I just froze. I just kept thinking if I go out there I will DIE. There is going to be an ambush outside, it is not SAFE. Its crazy, but for the better part of those 3 years, I kept myself locked in the house, I can't even go out with my wife, we were newly married. These events and my behaviour really bothered her, to make it worst, I had depression which developed during period.
I got really bad emotional issues, anger issues, and I would get mad at her, anyone, for no reason, and my wife would be really upset. I would be lying on the bed the entire day, and she would say "What's happening to you!", and cry. Sometimes, she can't take it and locks herself in the washroom crying.

One of the craziest things that happened to me in the house during that period of 3 years was this incident. That afternoon I woke up pretty late, once again from not being able to sleep the night before. And as I look out of my window and see the rooftop, of the high-rise flats beside our residence, the sun was orange and just causing the entire building to have a orange glow, with some late afternoon shadows. And what happened next was crazy, I immediately think "SNIPER ON THE ROOFTOP". And I actually dropped to the floor and leopard crawled out of the bedroom, and in the living room, the entire room was burning, the windows were tattered because bullets were flying in from both directions of the room. It was so f---ing real, but I was hallucinating. I leopard crawled to the kitchen, reached up to get the water mug I was wanting, and crawled back to the room from which i recovered. And it is just crazy. To this day, I am afraid to totally "remove all obstacles" from the window, I am afraid to let people from the outside see the interior of the house. Because it would mean that the shooter at the outside, can fire at us, at me, i feel especially vulnerable. I also contemplated suicide many times, and actually was about to do it, jump off the building, had a woman not saw me from across and screamed. She saved my life.

After the 3 years locking myself up, I began working on and off, and finally in 2006 I decided to just go "suck it up" and work at this MNC. For the sake my wife, so that I could take her for holidays and buy some good stuff for us. For the 5 years I was in that company, every single day was hell for me. I had to stand the train commute, the walk to the office, the office itself and the journey back. There was SO MANY PEOPLE, I was so tired at the end of the day as throughout the day I was on high-alert, scanning everyone, every corner, every room, every cubicle, for ... the ambush. It was so bad to the point, I was the only IT senior consultant who works alone from the server room. I would alone there, I would lunch alone, I would dread going to meetings, going to the cafeteria, it was HELL. I have NO absolute idea how I could have endured the 5 years. And it had to end, I began losing my temper and actually showing it, smashing an umbrella into half, smashing glasses at home, and I was told to leave at the year 2011. And I had been jobless since, not counting the 1-2 month job I had after that, I tried but I just went AWOL 2 months into the new job.

I was lost my memories, I can't remember alot of the stuff that was going on before we had the business started. I can't remember my classmates, which pisses me off. Recently, from the efforts of one of my college friends, we had a "facebook reunion" of sorts and I actually cannot remember one of them being in the same faculty as I am, in the university. My memories are like shattered glass, and remembering things is like picking up pieces of those fragments one by one.

Last year, I came across this method used by U.S. veterans to help them in their PTSD, its called the E.F.T. tapping method. So I actually followed the tutorials that are freely available on the internet. I was following the tutorial by a Mr. Brad Yates, and as I did the tapping and following what he was saying, I actually was reduced to tears. And afterwards I did this for several days, and on the final day, as I was lying down on the bed, I suddenly remembered my childhood. The memories just come like that. I was really afraid I could forget them again, so I wrote them down in a letter and gave it to a friend.

In my childhood, I was sexually abused by my biological mother one night when i was like 4-5 years old. Its amazing how I can still remember the lights that night along the corridor of the unit we were living in. I can't remember all of my childhood but I can remember that night with huge clarity. And it began a growing process for me which is obnoxious. The abuse would go on until I was nearly 20 years old. I would be peeped at while bathing, on uncountable occasions, when I was in my teens, she would peep at me while I was doing what any young male teenager would do in the bathroom (don't want to be explicit). I couldn't sleep at night because she would ... and I slept with like one eye closed and the other on the doorway, every single day. One night, when I was already in college, I woke up in the middle of the night, and realised she was beside the bed kneeling and touching my private parts, and my biological father was looking at her doing it. I froze in bed and kept quiet until they finished.
These torturous days till i was 20+ had an effect on me, I would not allow my parents to touch me for a long period of time, and I became aggressive at home, and I couldn't go back after work when i started working, I would go clubbing or drinking until 2-3am before heading back. Not forgetting to mention many occasions where the abuse took on other forms, like once my biological mother smashed my pet fish to its death, just because I was trying to give it some fresh water.

Last November 2014, I lost it while in a queue at a shopping mall and smashed up a corner of a shop, just because I couldn't stand the crowd, the sounds which startle me, and I became really aggressive and almost wanted to beat up another guy when me and my wife went to another store to get her a mobile phone.

Till now to this day, as I am writing this long post, I am aware of whats going on outside my house, the perimeter of my house, I only feel safe in the "base" which is my house. Outside of this, I'm nervous, anxious, I am aware of the movements going on in the unit above me, below me, beside me, even a bicycle which comes by the block of residence, would alert me. I treat every stranger I meet on the road as a "possible threat". I seem to be able to assess them very accurately and it pisses me off that the government is doing this for assessment, either that OR my PTSD tells me this guy "is a enemy agent" who is trying to harm me. And when guys like me encounter events like this, we do what we do best, feed the "enemy" with fake intel and screw up the enemy's intelligence efforts. This nightmare, this PTSD "effect" had me going on a "mission" for 14 years until last november 2014 when I lost it.

That was when I started to talk, to really talk to my wife, and admit how I was feeling, the anger, the sadness, the constant awareness of the surroundings, the assessment of every single person we come into contact, evaluation of the surroundings for security, and how any single sound, loud coughing, slamming of the door, car horning, loud engine noises, movement in the unit nearby me (we live in a multi-story housing), somedays I feel like I was going to have a heart attack.

The worst of it all, had to be the "ambush", I hate, i absolutely HATE going to areas where you see a building with obstacles, blindspots, pillars, windows, and coming out of lifts where you can't see the sideways, then there is the possibility of an AMBUSH. And being alone, without a squad, I'm alone and theres no one watching my back. And I'm watching no one's back. And its terrible. If you are will a section, you watch their back, and someone will be watching yours, and if you're the last man, if theres anything behind you, then very highly likely it is the ENEMY. And I can't crouch, I can't crawl, I had to pretend and walk like anyone else, it kills you.

Right now, its been 15 years already, my lifetime just slips away and now, I have been jobless for 4 years again, doing freelance for one of my friends who is helping me out of pity. And I have locking myself in the house again, since last November.

I actually told myself, soldier your behaviour is not acceptable, and your punishment is detention within the house for a month. And since November 2014, I never left the house except to get some cigarettes when they ran out, and also for the new year where I HAD to go out to make my wife happy.

I can't watch war movies, they totally make me screw up the next day, my sleep problems will return, and I'm glad of my allergy to alcohol (which is lethal for me), otherwise I think I will become an alcoholic. Whenever I listen to the song "If I should fall behind" by Billy Joel, it absolutely reduces me to a crying wreck. One moment I would be ok, and then I would be crying uncontrollably.

My life is a wreck.
 
Your story is a terrible one, and a good trauma therapist is what you need. You are certainly not beyond repair. Please get in the drivers seat of your recovery and actively research for a good trauma therapist in your area. I see you are in Singapore, which is a very highly developed city, so I suppose you can find someone.
 
Thank you so much for your replies. Sometimes, actually most of the time, I think my country is trying to hurt me instead of help me.
Which is why i made the decision to leave one day.

I found out only last november after the store smash up, that talking and revealing my true feelings helps.
Trying to do it all by myself, and the thinking that telling this will make me look weak doesn't help, and especially the childhood trauma, my first girlfriend was during my university days, and I initiated the broke off, i felt dirty and worthless, at times. So, yes, trying to do it alone, doesn't work and I realised talking about it to my wife, about the duration I can withstand while outside like e.g. in a queue, and my feelings about the ambush, it all helps in a way.
Now I am learning how to control the anger part.

Which is evident to my friends, who are close to me, I have inferiority complex in certain situations, like not having a family and the childhood i had.

My PTSD makes me unable to trust anyone completely here in this country, and unable to connect properly even with people i trust.
The song by Green Day "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" is actually my life, my whole life.

I struggled alot to graduate from the abuse and mental fatigue, but my biological parents refused to attend my graduation.
 
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I really hope I can find a place to be with people inflicted with PTSD like me, and if my condition acts up and I began to talk strangely, then please know that its not me, its my training tell me to evaluate and assess intelligence of my opponent.

And if I just leave, like before countless times and countless situations, just please pray for me, it will be the case when I assessed the "area“ as unsafe and threatening.

I have never been able to have any friends for long, my whole life.

I can never imagine when as a graduate, and with aspirations to serve the community as a police officer, that now, at 42, it is like this for me. At the very least, my story gets told here, and I know there are people worst off than me. I'm mentally prepared that I could possibly be disabled for the rest of my life, and the possibility of working as a gas station attendant, just because i cannot possibly work in the office which is open and vulnerable to enemy fire.
 
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At one instance around 2007, they had me on this medication, which made my left eye for no reason move all the way into the inside of my eye very close to the nose, taking these crap stuff actually made it worst rather than making it better. One of my colleagues actually saw this and I think it freaked her out.

On another instance when I finally got the bonus from working at the longest job i had, that 5-year job at the MNC, we went to a holiday and it was real bad (for me to pretend it was real good), I was approaching this nice guy in Italy, for help with a photograph of me and my wife, and as I hand him the camera my eye was like again moving wierdly close to the nose, and he was giving me the "are you ok" look.

I'm typing these as I recall them, as I'm afraid tomorrow i might just forget all these.
 
2015 March 07th 3:02 AM - I was reading @Candleflames post, and on his dad's reaction when he made a taco shape. Thanks Candleflames, because it made me recall.
When I was a little kid, I folded a paper together, and drew a nice house with the whole family, and you could open the windows and doors by cuting the shape out, you get the idea.
I handed it very, very happily to my biological father, and he... tore it into pieces.
He never spoke to me, all my life, for more than 10 times in a year. And he took part in the abuse. And, when he passed away, I did not attend his funeral.
 
I feel you really need to talk with a professional as you keep writing, which is an excellent sign, that you want to confront yourself and to start processing all you have contained inside all those years. As you write yourself, you can not do it alone. I suggest to find help now and not when leaving the country one day. It does not matter in which country you get help, as I assume you will not feel safe in any place anyway at the moment. I feel for you as you have both combat trauma and developmental trauma, that is a double burden. I googled for you, and found two therapists I would consider. I am not allowed to send links I just found out. I will try again, ok it is not working. Let me know if you want this info via a personal message. Take good care of yourself.
 
Thanks for the responses and concern, it really mean alot to me consider I feel alone and isolated for most parts of my life. Again the Green Day song "Boulevard of broken dreams" accurately describes most of my 42 years of life.

When I was going to take the A'Level examinations, which determines if one could go to the university, my biological father refused to pay for the fees. It was my grand-dad whom cared for me alot, much more than my biological parents, he paid for the fees.
When he passed away, my biological parents refused to allow me to go to his funeral, and I still feel sad to this day for this.
And the only reason I could think of is, they must have been afraid I could tell all these to my grand-dad and then it will result in them unable to get any inheritance. My grand-dad is pretty well-to-do than other people in this country coming from the middle-class, doing activities like lottery-collection in those days helped him gained quite abit I would assume.

As for my service, I did some pretty interesting things, at the age of 18 as a recruit I was already tasked by the Intelligence Unit (name masked for classified reasons) to do undercover work in my boot-camp platoon. My first assignment was partly successful as a rookie, and the reason being I told my section commander about it (which I was not suppose to), as we were close, we was close as a platoon and section. So that was my first exposure to intelligence work. Afterwards, I was pretty involved in interesting things which not many people in the armed forces could get, being a country not involved in any war, the "action" you could get at that time was mostly from the police. So it was interesting for me to be able to engage the enemy with live rounds (no firing) and I was involved in a high-speed boat chase of some smugglers, which we intercepted successfuly, just me and my IC, when I handed the captives over to the police coast guard there was a real sense of accomplishment. Other instances include being part of the security detail, manning the gates, when the prime minister visited the base late at night, covertly, to persuade the chief of navy to join the government. There were many others which I could see but I think lets just skip the details.

I can't remember much about the stuff I was doing before the PTSD developmental stages around 2000, but I can only try to piece it up.
And it does not help me, yes it does not help me, when in the reservist, when I was already quite bad, I could place 3 rounds in almost the same exact spot on the target board in 100 metres. And it does not help to know, when I took part in a mission in the reservist unit, my role was being a covert undercover operative, i managed to (being the leader of the 2 man team), sabotage the protection of 2 military companies during that exercise. Failing them instantly. I got quite famous that night after the entire exercise where they took days to prepare and station all the men. The officers were looking at me and saying "thats the f--king bastard" HAHA

Right now, we got some construction going on outside and, if it is in bursts, really sounds like gunfire. But its ok for me, i'm shaking my ankles and legs.
 
I don't understand why the millitary calls me back to the reservist unit after 10 long years. It's kinda strange as most people get called back within 1-2 years unless we are active. The range sergeant who saw my 3 rounds, he asked me if he could keep the target paper as a souvenir.
Still brings a smile to my face whenever I think about it. I'm proud of my shooting skills among others, but other than this my life is crap smack.

2015-03-07-10:58AM - There was one other instance in the firing range when an old timer retired millitary was manning it, as some retired armed forces do as a job after they leave active duty. He saw me firing and came over to just me and said "good shooting coporal".
Good memories.

I made a PTSD checklist and SOP by myself yesterday, and instead of bugging my wife and talking to her at times for long hours which i lost track of the time, I write here now, sorry if i appear to be a nuisance or somethin'. At times I would rant on and on for hours, till 2am in the morning and she would be a zombie the next day in the office.
 
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This is the spreadsheet I came up with to deal with PTSD reactions and triggers. After talking to my wife about my fears and reactions, I learnt anger management and how to separate the startle reactions from activating it. This is very important for my well-being. So here it goes:

[GALLERY=media, 1348]SOP_1 by BeyondRepair posted Mar 7, 2015 at 1:58 PM[/GALLERY]

[GALLERY=media, 1347]SOP_2 by BeyondRepair posted Mar 7, 2015 at 1:58 PM[/GALLERY]

[GALLERY=media, 1346]SOP_3 by BeyondRepair posted Mar 7, 2015 at 1:58 PM[/GALLERY]

[GALLERY=media, 1345]SOP_4 by BeyondRepair posted Mar 7, 2015 at 1:58 PM[/GALLERY]
 
Just took some painkiller due to startle response, which happens everyday.
This time round, I was not angry, because I am able to attach the incidence to my PTSD. It helps alot.
But the startle responses over 14 years puts a strain on my inner muscles around the skull, so I take painkillers to relieve the pain.

But that's ok, I can live with this.

2015-03-07 : You know how your head swivels quickly to face an incoming alert? Or how our training teaches us to face the direction of fire based on the sound? This is the result i think. The sudden loud sounds which triggers the startle response which is bad for PTSD, on top of our hypervigilance, yeap, that causes the pain.
 
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