So I’m not sure that I actually have PTSD. My therapist certainly says I don’t meet the requirements. I do, however, have some similar symptoms, so I hope it’s okay to join this community even if I might not technically have PTSD. I was in the Navy for five years, got out about seven years ago. It was extremely difficult for me. I don’t want to call it trauma, because I didn’t experience much that everyone else in the Navy doesn’t go through, and I don’t want to minimize what other people here have gone through by saying my experience is comparable. I was never attacked. I was never assaulted or harassed. I never saw combat.
But I spent five years trapped in an inherently awful environment for me. I’m transgender, and was in the closet and terrified the entire time I was there, that I’d be found out, and lose everything. I was surrounded constantly by macho aggressive men who were always pretending to be effeminate as a joke. Sort of a running gag in the submarine community. Had to leave home for regular three month tours, during which we never had port calls. I did horrifically bad. At a certain point, my division, behind my back, made sure I couldn’t progress on any qualifications because they didn’t trust me to be competent. I’d get screamed at almost every day for some thing or another I did wrong or had forgotten.
I was suicidal, wanting to die just to get out of there, but afraid to say anything about it. I eventually did tell someone I was wanting to kill myself. I went to psychology, was evaluated, and it was determined by three different psychologists that I didn’t have depression. I did receive an autism diagnosis. They still had me standing armed watches, and I couldn’t say no because I didn’t want to use it as an excuse and make other people stand more watches, and I knew I wasn’t going to do anything.
The closest thing to an actual traumatic event is still really mild. I was at the helm, operating the dive planes (which make the boat go up and down). I was told to dive by the chief sitting right behind me (who was my own division chief). I got signals crossed, and pulled the stick, which would make us rise. The order was repeated, I pulled more. It was repeated again. I kept not getting it, and kept raising the boat. At this point, he screamed, grabbed my shoulder, and pushed me to correct the action and make the boat dive. I don’t think he was super forceful or anything, though I kind of remember it that way. But that’s all that happened. And I had a major panic attack, my first, and was taken off the helm permanently.
And ever since then, I’ve had panic and anxiety. It’s been seven years since I left the navy, and I still get major anxiety just from leaving the house. I hate reminders of being in the Navy. I’ve missed class just because I’m having anxiety or panic, several times. I’ve avoided getting a job because being around crowds, potentially aggressive people, and having no option to hide is absolutely terrifying. Sometimes it’s worse than others. It’s been really bad, lately, due to a combination of going to school again (which is a great thing, but stressful and requires frequent socialization), certain recent political events that leave me terrified for my safety, as well as a medical screwup by the VA where they didn’t refill one of my medications for a month.
I don’t really relive any memories or have flashbacks, ever, due to a comorbidity. I have something called aphantasia which means that I do not experience mental imagery. This is literal. I’m not “bad” at imagery. I don’t have pictures in my head at all, except while asleep and dreaming. My memories are knowledge of what happened, maybe of what I saw, but they aren’t seeing it, and they aren’t recreating that moment. I do kind of re-experience the emotions, especially when I’m around shouting, aggressive people, or even just crowds of people who could potentially be aggressive. But it’s not like I suddenly am on the boat again with a chief screaming at me, or having to listen to people make transphobic or homophobic jokes, afraid to say anything that would make me a target. Sometimes I sort of feel like there’s a chief standing right behind me, though, about to shout at me for whatever I did wrong, but that’s an abstract feeling, not an image or anything. I guess I should count my blessings that I’m mentally incapable of hearing their imaginary screams.
So even though nothing major happened, it still managed to screw things over. I’d been depressed and had some moderate social fear due to verbal bullying throughout middle school and high school, as well as unrecognized gender dysphoria, but I’d progressed a lot and become fairly happy and stable by the time I joined the Navy. It made me worse than I’d ever been, and the symptoms haven’t really faded or improved. I honestly need to go back to my therapist. I’ve kind of avoided it for the last couple of months because I was at the VA constantly throughout November and December, and got to the point where I couldn’t handle it any more. Usually it’s not a problem, but it is a reminder of being in the military, and I’m never quite comfortable there.
So I don’t know. There’s some good going on, too. I’m kicking ass at school, mostly, even though I’m having major anxiety over it, too. I’ll take the anxiety, I just want to do well at something for the first time, ever. And it’s incredibly fun.
Anyway, sorry about the wall of text. I have trouble being brief. Thanks for your time, and greetings.
But I spent five years trapped in an inherently awful environment for me. I’m transgender, and was in the closet and terrified the entire time I was there, that I’d be found out, and lose everything. I was surrounded constantly by macho aggressive men who were always pretending to be effeminate as a joke. Sort of a running gag in the submarine community. Had to leave home for regular three month tours, during which we never had port calls. I did horrifically bad. At a certain point, my division, behind my back, made sure I couldn’t progress on any qualifications because they didn’t trust me to be competent. I’d get screamed at almost every day for some thing or another I did wrong or had forgotten.
I was suicidal, wanting to die just to get out of there, but afraid to say anything about it. I eventually did tell someone I was wanting to kill myself. I went to psychology, was evaluated, and it was determined by three different psychologists that I didn’t have depression. I did receive an autism diagnosis. They still had me standing armed watches, and I couldn’t say no because I didn’t want to use it as an excuse and make other people stand more watches, and I knew I wasn’t going to do anything.
The closest thing to an actual traumatic event is still really mild. I was at the helm, operating the dive planes (which make the boat go up and down). I was told to dive by the chief sitting right behind me (who was my own division chief). I got signals crossed, and pulled the stick, which would make us rise. The order was repeated, I pulled more. It was repeated again. I kept not getting it, and kept raising the boat. At this point, he screamed, grabbed my shoulder, and pushed me to correct the action and make the boat dive. I don’t think he was super forceful or anything, though I kind of remember it that way. But that’s all that happened. And I had a major panic attack, my first, and was taken off the helm permanently.
And ever since then, I’ve had panic and anxiety. It’s been seven years since I left the navy, and I still get major anxiety just from leaving the house. I hate reminders of being in the Navy. I’ve missed class just because I’m having anxiety or panic, several times. I’ve avoided getting a job because being around crowds, potentially aggressive people, and having no option to hide is absolutely terrifying. Sometimes it’s worse than others. It’s been really bad, lately, due to a combination of going to school again (which is a great thing, but stressful and requires frequent socialization), certain recent political events that leave me terrified for my safety, as well as a medical screwup by the VA where they didn’t refill one of my medications for a month.
I don’t really relive any memories or have flashbacks, ever, due to a comorbidity. I have something called aphantasia which means that I do not experience mental imagery. This is literal. I’m not “bad” at imagery. I don’t have pictures in my head at all, except while asleep and dreaming. My memories are knowledge of what happened, maybe of what I saw, but they aren’t seeing it, and they aren’t recreating that moment. I do kind of re-experience the emotions, especially when I’m around shouting, aggressive people, or even just crowds of people who could potentially be aggressive. But it’s not like I suddenly am on the boat again with a chief screaming at me, or having to listen to people make transphobic or homophobic jokes, afraid to say anything that would make me a target. Sometimes I sort of feel like there’s a chief standing right behind me, though, about to shout at me for whatever I did wrong, but that’s an abstract feeling, not an image or anything. I guess I should count my blessings that I’m mentally incapable of hearing their imaginary screams.
So even though nothing major happened, it still managed to screw things over. I’d been depressed and had some moderate social fear due to verbal bullying throughout middle school and high school, as well as unrecognized gender dysphoria, but I’d progressed a lot and become fairly happy and stable by the time I joined the Navy. It made me worse than I’d ever been, and the symptoms haven’t really faded or improved. I honestly need to go back to my therapist. I’ve kind of avoided it for the last couple of months because I was at the VA constantly throughout November and December, and got to the point where I couldn’t handle it any more. Usually it’s not a problem, but it is a reminder of being in the military, and I’m never quite comfortable there.
So I don’t know. There’s some good going on, too. I’m kicking ass at school, mostly, even though I’m having major anxiety over it, too. I’ll take the anxiety, I just want to do well at something for the first time, ever. And it’s incredibly fun.
Anyway, sorry about the wall of text. I have trouble being brief. Thanks for your time, and greetings.
