Stundesagte
New Here
So I'm going to start this very disorganized. This is a new conversation for me. Please forgive me for such a long post. I also apologize if my problem isn't terribly worthy of being considered PTSD. I obviously have a lot to learn about it either way.
I was raised by a narcissist who was also bipolar. My parents were divorced and we stayed with him once during the summer and once again during the winter every year for the just of my childhood. On Christmas he would always spend about $10 at the dollar store on gifts for my brother and I as our only presents. He wasn't lacking in money necessarily at all- it was like a weird joke that never got funny. We were always disappointed but tried to mask it because if we didn't- he'd get incredibly angry and make us scrub the house for the next 8-12 hours. Even if we put on a happy face about it- he'd make us clean. I'd usually get to bed around midnight after opening presents that morning, the skin on my hands raw. If i went to bed earlier- I'd be dragged out by my feet, half awake, to scrub something else. I took the brunt of the abuse because I didn't want my little brother to have to do it. So I'd offer to do anything my father instructed him to do. This was always how Christmas went.
I'm currently on the verge of turning 29 and haven't had an insane Christmas since I was 16 and started avoiding staying with my father. Something silly happened this year where we needed to borrow a bit of money from my inlaws. My husband totaled his car and he'd like to invest in something a bit more money than we currently can afford. They supported that idea and were happy to help. We'll have the cash to pay them pack everything and then sum once I get my tax returns. So for Christmas- I received a lovely frying pan while everyone else was gifted something more personal. I thought it was cute and later in the day shared my story with my sister. She and some friends gathered around and began to tell me how f*cked up a frying pan is as a Christmas gift - I'll chalk that attitude up to the mimosa's and trying to just insensitively relish in talking shit about people they don't know. I was an asshole and fell into it- I was starting to resent my present. So I did one of the dumbest things you can do on reddit: I asked /r/relationships if I was being an idiot for not liking the frying pan since my inlaws just helped us out so much with a loan. I knew they would say yes, which was what I wanted to hear but I didn't know it'd get dirty. I just wanted reassurance I was right in not being upset, initially. But I didn't explain that in my post. My inbox immediately began to fill with comments about what a terrible person I am- that I'm a bitch- the list goes on with how badly they dug into me. Someone even told me my husband should divorce me. I tried to shake it off and felt content in knowing my thought process around the frying pan after hearing my sisters opinion was dumb and I should instead be grateful.
Then something very very weird happened about 15 minutes after the reddit post. I began to meticulously clean and could barely talk or think. This lasted around 3 hours- asking my husband if I could do anything, I would. It was obsessive cleaning and cooking unnecessary food and standing- so much standing- staring at anything that could cradle the nothingness sweating from every pore on my body. My husband finally directed my zombie like disposition into the bedroom and started delicately comforting me- I couldn't understand him one bit and felt extremely void of any emotion aside from fear. The next thing I remember is gasping for air through buckets of snot and tears while screaming- I thought I was in my dads apartment, looking down his hallway at his bedroom door. I could see it with my eyes open. I took another painfully deep breath- I knew I wasn't there and yet I couldn't quite place where I actually was. I shouted a few times saying I couldn't tell where I was. Hearing my own voice shriek in confusion only disoriented me even more. It was crippling - much worse than any panic attack I've suffered before. My husband kept softy comforting and holding me until I came to and calmed down. It was intense to say the least and unlike anything I normal perpetuate under stress.
We spoke about it afterwards and my brain immediately made the reference to what the trigger was and why it was a trigger to begin with. I know i have GAD but I've never thoroughly discussed the possibility of PTSD because it hasn't been a conversation. I've always been under the impression it's incredibly difficult to pin point what mental illnesses you suffer from specifically on your own so I'm confused in suspecting PTSD so easily. I also think one of my therapist would have said something about it by now. I must mention to you that I've never been to an actual psychologist, but I do strive for mental stability and personal insight daily. I've had numerous CBT sessions and do the best I can to work with my panic attacks when they disrupt my life. I have been told that I'm most certainly not schizophrenic or bipolar. But anxiety has always been mentioned as a damn good culprit.
Do you know if what I experienced was PTSD or just a panic attack unlike any other? Thank you so much in advance to anyone who actually read this giant wall of text let alone has a moment to provide any input.
I was raised by a narcissist who was also bipolar. My parents were divorced and we stayed with him once during the summer and once again during the winter every year for the just of my childhood. On Christmas he would always spend about $10 at the dollar store on gifts for my brother and I as our only presents. He wasn't lacking in money necessarily at all- it was like a weird joke that never got funny. We were always disappointed but tried to mask it because if we didn't- he'd get incredibly angry and make us scrub the house for the next 8-12 hours. Even if we put on a happy face about it- he'd make us clean. I'd usually get to bed around midnight after opening presents that morning, the skin on my hands raw. If i went to bed earlier- I'd be dragged out by my feet, half awake, to scrub something else. I took the brunt of the abuse because I didn't want my little brother to have to do it. So I'd offer to do anything my father instructed him to do. This was always how Christmas went.
I'm currently on the verge of turning 29 and haven't had an insane Christmas since I was 16 and started avoiding staying with my father. Something silly happened this year where we needed to borrow a bit of money from my inlaws. My husband totaled his car and he'd like to invest in something a bit more money than we currently can afford. They supported that idea and were happy to help. We'll have the cash to pay them pack everything and then sum once I get my tax returns. So for Christmas- I received a lovely frying pan while everyone else was gifted something more personal. I thought it was cute and later in the day shared my story with my sister. She and some friends gathered around and began to tell me how f*cked up a frying pan is as a Christmas gift - I'll chalk that attitude up to the mimosa's and trying to just insensitively relish in talking shit about people they don't know. I was an asshole and fell into it- I was starting to resent my present. So I did one of the dumbest things you can do on reddit: I asked /r/relationships if I was being an idiot for not liking the frying pan since my inlaws just helped us out so much with a loan. I knew they would say yes, which was what I wanted to hear but I didn't know it'd get dirty. I just wanted reassurance I was right in not being upset, initially. But I didn't explain that in my post. My inbox immediately began to fill with comments about what a terrible person I am- that I'm a bitch- the list goes on with how badly they dug into me. Someone even told me my husband should divorce me. I tried to shake it off and felt content in knowing my thought process around the frying pan after hearing my sisters opinion was dumb and I should instead be grateful.
Then something very very weird happened about 15 minutes after the reddit post. I began to meticulously clean and could barely talk or think. This lasted around 3 hours- asking my husband if I could do anything, I would. It was obsessive cleaning and cooking unnecessary food and standing- so much standing- staring at anything that could cradle the nothingness sweating from every pore on my body. My husband finally directed my zombie like disposition into the bedroom and started delicately comforting me- I couldn't understand him one bit and felt extremely void of any emotion aside from fear. The next thing I remember is gasping for air through buckets of snot and tears while screaming- I thought I was in my dads apartment, looking down his hallway at his bedroom door. I could see it with my eyes open. I took another painfully deep breath- I knew I wasn't there and yet I couldn't quite place where I actually was. I shouted a few times saying I couldn't tell where I was. Hearing my own voice shriek in confusion only disoriented me even more. It was crippling - much worse than any panic attack I've suffered before. My husband kept softy comforting and holding me until I came to and calmed down. It was intense to say the least and unlike anything I normal perpetuate under stress.
We spoke about it afterwards and my brain immediately made the reference to what the trigger was and why it was a trigger to begin with. I know i have GAD but I've never thoroughly discussed the possibility of PTSD because it hasn't been a conversation. I've always been under the impression it's incredibly difficult to pin point what mental illnesses you suffer from specifically on your own so I'm confused in suspecting PTSD so easily. I also think one of my therapist would have said something about it by now. I must mention to you that I've never been to an actual psychologist, but I do strive for mental stability and personal insight daily. I've had numerous CBT sessions and do the best I can to work with my panic attacks when they disrupt my life. I have been told that I'm most certainly not schizophrenic or bipolar. But anxiety has always been mentioned as a damn good culprit.
Do you know if what I experienced was PTSD or just a panic attack unlike any other? Thank you so much in advance to anyone who actually read this giant wall of text let alone has a moment to provide any input.
