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The Series Of Events That Lead To My Ptsd And How Years Later I Still Haven’t Worked Through It

Ella Abyss

New Here
I am scared about righting this; I am only attempting to do so in the hope that it will finally set my head strait and free me of the distressing flashbacks and help elevate the insipid depression and anxiety that follow me like a shadow, draining my will to live and clouding my view so that I look at the world through a lenses on negativity.

It’s hard to begin the story because I have lost chunks of memory. It was September 2013 and I was 20 about to turn 21, this isn’t however when my depression starts.

Depression has been with me since childhood, as a teenager panic attaches started, then I discovered I could get validation from boys, men. My first step into sexuality was forced, my boy friend would dumb me if I didn’t sleep with him, I’d just turned 16, I was still a child in my head. I had been vigorously sheltered, taught to believe the best in people, that the world was a just and fair place, that the absence of my father need not have any impact on my development, that my moodiness was normal and if anything a sign of my weakness so I best not question it.

I believed that I must suppress my feelings whatever way I could without anyone finding out. To disappoint anyone would be the worst thing I could do. As long as mum didn’t know I was smoking weed then I could use that to numb my emptiness. For a time that worked but by 17 I had no friends and sunk again into depression. Again it was unaddressed and pushed under the rug, I was kept in the dark so I didn’t even no what it was.

When I was 18 I sunk my claws into the sex for validation thing, it got the reward system in my brain fired up again. It was an awful cycle of chase, reward, regret guilt, that lasted for 4 years. It was the most harming thing I’ve ever done to myself. Some of this time I was in a relationship with the only male that I ever felt I could rely on. He was my rock, my undoing, my rock my undoing. We had unbridled passion and painstaking breakups again and again. Although he played a part in some of my trauma I know he has a heart of gold and is a genuinely beautiful person.

To keep this story short I won’t talk about the events that happened between 18 and 20, ill just say that they were the makings of a very codependent and unstable person.

By 2013 I was so fatigued by my lifestyle, my relationships ups, downs, the emotional abuse that tied into it and the neglect I had towards my health that I felt my only choice was to move back home. This meant being across the country from my on and of again boyfriend who I was still in love with. I got worse back home until the point that I felt I had nothing to live for so I might as well do the only goal I had left, travel alone to South America.

I knew how dangerous this was and I welcomed it, anything to escape myself and run away yet again so as not to have to face the reasons why I always felt so messed up. Shortly before going I did see a councilor for the first time so I must finally have been grasping the idea that something was actually not right with my mental health. The obvious event that started my posttraumatic stress was when I was raped in South America.

The next morning I had no memory and thought I’d chosen to go home with him. We acted like friends and had sex again; I can only describe my mood as manic. I was in complete denial that something was wrong but when it hit what really happened, as tiny shards of memory returned I became distraught. Blaming myself, why did I get so drunk? Friends told me I couldn’t even talk and was collapsed in the club, was I drugged I wondered? I’ll never know because I don’t remember more than a few fragments of the night.

I became paranoid I was developing a urinary tract infect. A few nights later I had a dream where my on and off again boyfriend has his head in my lap his eyes looking up into mine pleading me to save myself. I woke up crying which got the attention of another traveler. I told her what had happened and she took me to the hospital. This was third a world country; small town, and we were the only foreigners there. The doctor jabbed me hard in the stomach, it hurt. He said I had a bad unary tract infect. His team all scolded me for having unprotected sex with a local. I was told that the men there carry a bacterium that’s different to the one we westerns are used to. I said nothing, having now been slut shamed in both continents of the world.

The following pokes, prods and blood taken from the vein in my wrist all felt like extra little invasions on a body I hadn’t felt was mine for a long time. The distance between me and it had grown severally larger in the last few days. I may have been disassociating because I don’t remember being to upset by that point. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hostel bed with the most intense pain I’d ever felt, my insides were being stabbed by knifes. I was alternating between almost passed out from the pain to screaming, cry, shaking and withering with it, as it came in waves.

My friend called a doctor, he said I had been prescribed antibiotic that were far too strong, they were destroying my stomach lining. He put me onto milder ones. I experienced more physical pain that day than I even thought I could stand. I have only one other memory that comes close to it. This next one it the one that added to my ptsd.

I returned from South America very much in denial, I didn’t seek help. I did however message the man who raped me and told him how I felt about it. He replied by saying that I wanted it, he has filmed me and had proof. I knew he was lying but the lever of cruelty in the him response disturbed me even further.

I moved back interstate to be with my X-boyfriend who I still loved. He had me live with him in a share house that was basically a squat. I never felt safe people where constantly going in and out and our room was a crash place for basically anyone. Here I developed the worst anxiety I’d ever felt. Up till then Id been a good sleeper, in that house I became an insomniac, hyper vigilant to the smallest sounds. If I did manage to sleep someone was bound to come in and make noise. My relationship was once again emotionally abusive with him blaming me every time something went wrong for him. My needs were not being meet, my voice was not heard. He wanted me to just slot into his party lifestyle. I still have the sleep difficulty’s to this day that I developed in those too weeks. While I was living there an ice addict stabbed himself in the leg with a knife that he intended to use to cut up a homeless 16 year old boy who was crashing with us. My mental health was plummeting downwards.

The thing I mentioned that pushed over the edge and further into ptsd. The thing that reinforced my codependency to my boyfriend, my fear of the world and my disconnection from my body happened a month or so after I moved out of that house. I had to have a medical procedure called a colposcopy where they remove a sample of tissue from your cervix. This was to make sure I wasn’t developing cervical cancer and the anesthetic for it didn’t work.

They attached to me a electrical circuit and assured me it wouldn’t hurt. When I started to cry and yelp in pain my boyfriend help my hand tighter. To this day I cry when I see a man on TV or in real life consoling a crying woman because it triggers flashbacks. The anesthetic hadn’t worked and my body was once again being painfully and forcefully invaded. I couldn’t push the instruments out of me like I wanted to for fear that it would rip me up. Suppressing my desire to thrash about was to try and free myself left me with the belief that I helpless. I was paralyzed in pain and fear crying, yelling inside and out loud for it to be over.

I had been in counseling for a few months by this time, it was become clear that I have a mental illness although even now I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure why I’m still so easily triggered to have flash backs of the events I’ve just talked about or why I’m still depressed when though I have been in “recovery” for a year of so now. At least now I have accepted that although my trauma is unconventional it is trauma never the less. I no the mental pathways that developed during the 6 months that these events occurred must be dysfunctional. I need to explore them and writing this is one step towards doing that so that ptsd stops controlling me.
 
Is there a conventional route to PTSD? I think PTSD is the opposite to that - traumatic events not easily shared or related to. Events that make you feel like an outsider. That's how I understand it snyway - and especially human cruelty and more so when you are judged for being the victim of it.
You didn't deserve any of that. The world can be a harsh place if you're young and unprotected.
not all people develop PTSD from traumatic events. I was told that a safe and stable childhood can kind of protect you from developing it, but if that wasn't there you're without the safe base to be able to process events.
Glad you're here and have a safe place to talk about it!
 
I am scared about righting this; I am only attempting to do so in the hope that it will finally set m...
Ella, I'm so sorry that you had to endure all this. I offer my (( hugs )) to you. Please forgive yourself and take care of yourself. Ask for help if you need it. Please feel free to write to "us" here on this thread. We're always listening. You're never alone.
 
I am scared about righting this; I am only attempting to do so in the hope that it will finally set m...
Sweet Ella, thank you for.sharing your story and yes you are on the path of healung and love. I am so sorry that you had to experience those dark events that injured your beautiful soul and spirit.

Please understand that we cannot control the dark side of Humanity. It is a malevolent part of our terms of endearment and life we must endure. Do not blame yourself for getting caught up within the downfall. You are a beautiful soul and loved beyound measure.

Forgive the dark days, adhere to your light within and creat boundries of self love. Seek the beautiful ones, bless your life with good people and embrace your love within. We can not stop the dark intent of the fallen; but, we can forever remain in the light and let love rule!
 
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