S
SecondGuessing
I was originally misdiagnosed with bipolar at the age of 24 and I was treated as such for a while. The treatment never seemed to work so I just sort of stopped.
I recently because very ill with a mast cell disorder and it made me really think about my life. I knew there was always something wrong but I had no clue how to describe it. I was embarrassed by it for so long. I decided to make changes to my daily life and I tried to live in a healthier way, which included therapy.
On my first session, the doctor informed me I was misdiagnosed and I appeared to have some signs of BPD, but it seemed much more like PTSD. I honestly didn't ever think I could have PTSD, so I was very unsure about it. After a few more session, it became more and more apparent that PTSD may be the cause for my distress.
I have been practicing distancing my anxiety from myself by personifying it instead of it personifying me. I started to reflect on some things when I noticed my anxiety taking over and thats when the repression flood gates opened wide up. I started to have vivid memories of childhood and teenage physical and emotional abuse from my step father and mother, along with a sense of abandonment when I tried to reach out to my father for help but he couldn't be bothered. I remembered that those things happened before all this, but I never connected them to why I have a crippling fear of trust and being open. Why I feel lost and hopeless when I feel dismissed and or questioned.
My father never believed it was that bad, he still believes we were just saying it because we didn't like my moms house or something stupid. His denial left my siblings and I defenseless and helpless. We tried to stick up for each other but theres only so much you can do before you're all getting hit. I watched my siblings being beaten with tennis rackets, kicked in the stomach, pushed down the stairs. I got tackled and beaten, burned by a hot lighter, made to believe I was going to be put away forever if I told anyone.
I feel guilt for not calling the police, I feel guilt for not saving my siblings and I felt guilt at the time like I had some how deserved this. I never understood and still don't understand how you can treat someone you love like that. But thats why I'm here I guess. Its time to heal old wounds and walk with confidence instead of fear. I have never been more ready to heal and I know this is all part of it.
I recently because very ill with a mast cell disorder and it made me really think about my life. I knew there was always something wrong but I had no clue how to describe it. I was embarrassed by it for so long. I decided to make changes to my daily life and I tried to live in a healthier way, which included therapy.
On my first session, the doctor informed me I was misdiagnosed and I appeared to have some signs of BPD, but it seemed much more like PTSD. I honestly didn't ever think I could have PTSD, so I was very unsure about it. After a few more session, it became more and more apparent that PTSD may be the cause for my distress.
I have been practicing distancing my anxiety from myself by personifying it instead of it personifying me. I started to reflect on some things when I noticed my anxiety taking over and thats when the repression flood gates opened wide up. I started to have vivid memories of childhood and teenage physical and emotional abuse from my step father and mother, along with a sense of abandonment when I tried to reach out to my father for help but he couldn't be bothered. I remembered that those things happened before all this, but I never connected them to why I have a crippling fear of trust and being open. Why I feel lost and hopeless when I feel dismissed and or questioned.
My father never believed it was that bad, he still believes we were just saying it because we didn't like my moms house or something stupid. His denial left my siblings and I defenseless and helpless. We tried to stick up for each other but theres only so much you can do before you're all getting hit. I watched my siblings being beaten with tennis rackets, kicked in the stomach, pushed down the stairs. I got tackled and beaten, burned by a hot lighter, made to believe I was going to be put away forever if I told anyone.
I feel guilt for not calling the police, I feel guilt for not saving my siblings and I felt guilt at the time like I had some how deserved this. I never understood and still don't understand how you can treat someone you love like that. But thats why I'm here I guess. Its time to heal old wounds and walk with confidence instead of fear. I have never been more ready to heal and I know this is all part of it.
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