Crystal Hoffman
New Here
Well, I am new here. Surprise, surprise reading that on this forum, huh?
I actually signed up in October. I just haven't really felt like I could post until now. That is kind of how it goes for me. I don't feel like I "deserve" to call myself a PTSD sufferer. But some days, I can actually do so. I guess today is one of them.
I have been a victim of sexual assault on 2 occasions. I say that lightly, because the 2nd occasion was actually a little more than once. It was actually a series of manipulative events surrounding me and included my family. It just so happened to include instances of the sexual nature, where I wasn't a willing participant.
The first was when I was 14. Good news is he has been civilly committed by the state to a high security sexual predator program, not likely to see the light of day again.
The second was a neighbor. He has since moved, but still lives in the same town of roughly 13,000 people. Most of the occurrences were in my house. Where I still live, haunted.
I was diagnosed with PTSD a couple of years ago. Still feels strange to say. I feel like I am only suffering because I allow myself to suffer. Like I have a choice. Like I could just turn it off if I tried hard enough.
I am currently undergoing EMDR, and as hard as it is, i feel like it has potential. I actually feel like maybe someday I can go into my basement again. Maybe someday I won't jump every time my dog barks. And maybe if I run into him again, I won't feel like I am being raped all over again. Maybe I will feel safe sometime again. I am hopeful. I really appreciate and feel comfortable with my therapist (thank goodness!!!).
I cry. Often times I don't know why. Sometimes I don't know when it will start, or stop for that matter.
I worry. That I am doing this wrong. That I am doing more harm than good.
I smile. To hide what I feel inside. To make everyone think I am ok. If they believe it, maybe I will, too.
I regret. You know what I mean... Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda.... Nuff said.
I blame. Take your pick. Myself. Them, Myself. Take your pick.
But....
I hope. It is still there in me, this hope that it will get better. Maybe someday I will feel like I deserve to be happy, and healthy, and loved. Maybe someday I won't have nightmares. Or at least not a couple times a week.
So there's my introduction. Sorry for the length. And... well... thanks .... this is a great thing going here!
I actually signed up in October. I just haven't really felt like I could post until now. That is kind of how it goes for me. I don't feel like I "deserve" to call myself a PTSD sufferer. But some days, I can actually do so. I guess today is one of them.
I have been a victim of sexual assault on 2 occasions. I say that lightly, because the 2nd occasion was actually a little more than once. It was actually a series of manipulative events surrounding me and included my family. It just so happened to include instances of the sexual nature, where I wasn't a willing participant.
The first was when I was 14. Good news is he has been civilly committed by the state to a high security sexual predator program, not likely to see the light of day again.
The second was a neighbor. He has since moved, but still lives in the same town of roughly 13,000 people. Most of the occurrences were in my house. Where I still live, haunted.
I was diagnosed with PTSD a couple of years ago. Still feels strange to say. I feel like I am only suffering because I allow myself to suffer. Like I have a choice. Like I could just turn it off if I tried hard enough.
I am currently undergoing EMDR, and as hard as it is, i feel like it has potential. I actually feel like maybe someday I can go into my basement again. Maybe someday I won't jump every time my dog barks. And maybe if I run into him again, I won't feel like I am being raped all over again. Maybe I will feel safe sometime again. I am hopeful. I really appreciate and feel comfortable with my therapist (thank goodness!!!).
I cry. Often times I don't know why. Sometimes I don't know when it will start, or stop for that matter.
I worry. That I am doing this wrong. That I am doing more harm than good.
I smile. To hide what I feel inside. To make everyone think I am ok. If they believe it, maybe I will, too.
I regret. You know what I mean... Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda.... Nuff said.
I blame. Take your pick. Myself. Them, Myself. Take your pick.
But....
I hope. It is still there in me, this hope that it will get better. Maybe someday I will feel like I deserve to be happy, and healthy, and loved. Maybe someday I won't have nightmares. Or at least not a couple times a week.
So there's my introduction. Sorry for the length. And... well... thanks .... this is a great thing going here!
Last edited by a moderator:
