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To sufferers: what made you get help?

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What was the deciding factor that made you want to seek help?
The end of my trauma included a whole lot of forced sleep deprivation, and it made me start having a psychotic episode. uuugh. I freed myself from my abuser in the midst of that psychotic episode - a couple days were pretty bad and during them, I realized that I was going crazy, I realized "holy f*ck I am psychotic" - but things were rough enough in the real world, that I stayed pretty well connected to reality, relatively speaking, for those days where I ended the abuse.

The day that I ended it, I was having some pretty extreme reactions to everything that had happened that day and the previous day. I was feeling so, so insanely intense. The people around me could see I was having a very hard time and freaking out, they could see I was f*cking terrified. Me being terrified intensified, when I found out that my abuser was going to be released from the ER instead of being sent to the psych ward, like I was hoping (because he had just attempted suicide).

f*ck I shouldn't be talking about this. I will finish it up quickly.

I was offered help through a therapist that my mom knew, and at first I declined it, thinking I could just handle things on my own, but that night while sobbing, freaking out, feeling horrible, I said "okay I'll do it, I'll see her" - and I started therapy the next day. But, my psychosis got worse, I wound up in the hospital, the hospital visit got rid of the psychosis, I went home, slowly started getting better and feeling like my brain was coming back online. I had these symptoms going on though - I came back to reality, and my brain stopped being slow, irrational, and fuzzy - but I didn't return to "normal"

Basically me having that psychotic episode scared me into continuing to see my therapist, and after that psychosis ended, is when I started seeing my first pdoc, who is the person who diagnosed me with PTSD, and also later set me up with my current t/pdoc person, who is much better at helping me than my old t.

Eventually I was diagnosed with PTSD, and I kind of felt relieved, in that I didn't have schizophrenia or some other psychotic disorder - I was relieved because I had something to explain what was going on, and it was something that was curable (I like to still believe it's curable). I was kind of doubting whether it was really PTSD, and thinking that if it was, hey maybe it'd go away on its own. Lol. I kind of felt numb to a lot of my trauma, I was kind of in denial that it was bothering me, what all my psycho ex did to me. Then therapy stirred things up, brought them to the surface, and I've basically been continuing therapy because I just want all of this shit to f*cking go away, or stop bothering me. I want my life back. I want to be able to work again. I want all of this to quit tormenting me all the time.

Is he scared to seek help? Is he avoiding it because it’s easier to just be alone and pretend everything is okay?
I don't really know what you should do about it, to help him seek help, but it's possible he's afraid of seeking help, because it is hard to do that - I had it offered to me, and the psychosis would have forced it to happen anyway - but without those things, I don't know if I would have sought it out all on my own, or how long it would have taken me to do that.

He could be trying to ignore it all and pretend everything is okay - I want to ignore it all and pretend everything is okay, I often try to ignore everything trauma related, but shit still comes up, and I still get triggered. I'd probably still get triggered living in the middle of nowhere, in a shack in the woods. Lol.

I was also in denial that my trauma was -that- bad or affecting me -that- much until therapy stirred it all up and made it hard to ignore that it all affects me a lot, and that I need help with it.
 
My journey into the world of PTSD started one day while in a doctor's office, he was going to inject my shoulder and I instantly put my hands in the air, in front of me, trying to protect myself from him, all the while beginning to get hysterical, telling him he couldn't "do it" to me and motioning for him to stay away from me. That was last year. I was so embarrassed and shocked that I went right home and called a psychologist. I have known for many, many years, that depression was a struggle for me but I did not know it was PTSD from childhood and ongoing invasive medical procedures. I've lived most of my life just trying to cope and fit in. It took a sudden out-of-control moment to finally get me to seek help. I think we are so strongly trying to hang on and to cope that to seek help is a sign of defeat, in a way. Your guy is going to have to come to some point where is will know he needs help, too. Since he already knows he has PTSD, hopefully it will not take him a desperate low spot to go back to counseling. One can hope this would be his story to a better life.
 
I’ll share a story for you, it’s a tough story, one that is a stinger for me. While I wear a different uniform than military, there is a respect from one uniform to another. It’s hard for us uniforms to admit failure. I know you’re looking for answers about how others deal with trauma. Us uniforms are a different beast.

I had a Code White (Violent Patient) to my addictions unit in one of my hospitals. I arrived on unit, a patient out of control. A 17 year military veteran who lost his shit. Heavily addicted. Trying to find help, but maintain a sense of dominance and control. It’s all he knew as he was a Company Sergeant. To hurt him, control him, degrade him, broke all of my moral compass. As I am an absolute ally and supporter to the men and women who serve our country. I told him so. He respected me for it. Complied. End of story. He knew and felt it, he understood that it was gonna break my heart to move on him. Egos didn’t matter, who was gonna win, no one. He didn’t want to hurt me either. It was a draw based on trust and compassion for what we serve.

Personal traumas are damaging, no victim asks for it. It’s damaging. For those of us in uniform, we signed up for it. We knew the risks, thought we could pull through it, something in the tasks we were asked to do or experience broke us. Which is why you hear the stories of Military / First Responder denying their flaws, delaying their admission. We know we’re broken. The cost of admission is extraordinary in comparison to someone who experienced a one off debilitating personal trauma. We start losing respect at a high scale and it descends from there. We’re compromised now. A defeating feeling. Not one easily recovered from.

It comes with high cost to admit you fell, your fellow uniforms start to question things, it’s an ego thing to admit weakness. Especially personal when you have colleagues ask or question whether you were in the game or not during conflict.

I know you’re looking for obvious answers, many have opened their hearts to their personal traumas and what drove them over and I admire every of one of them, for every step or fall they took to get here today. Uniform life is a very affecting way to fall when you signed up to do something noble and reach your emotional capacity for whatever reason lead you there. It’s not to devalue what other sufferers feel, their traumas are very valid. Uniform life is just a little different. We’re a little bit stubborn before we fall and admit we need help.
 
@LuckiLee - I am too! It made me proud to see him stand up straight for a moment and realize he was in command and respected again. I don’t know where he is now. I’m hopeful. He did finish the program though!

There’s a reason I wear my family name as a tattoo over my heart. My granddad was killed overseas during WWII as a Staff Sergeant. Those who serve are truly my heroes.
 
I had a lot of false starts getting help. I simply wasn't ready.... or the treatment I could access was terrible or didn't provide what I needed. There are times I couldn't sustain the initial season of symptoms increasing, so no matter how much I wanted help or was ready for it, treatment just wasn't doable.

Effective treatment is the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever.
 
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Doing business made me lose my mind to point where I got violent and did some batshit things. I had read online that when a person starts getting suicidal thoughts (which I had), then they need to get help. So I decided to try it. At first, it was confusing. I tried 3 different kinds of meds until I got the right one. I was lucky to be married to such a supportive and patient spouse, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Doing way better than before, but still have major challenges.
 
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