Over the years, as I have recovered more memories (not the emotions though) I have started to understand why I am the way I am. It is amazing how much of "me" is based on what happened to me back then. I often wonder what or who I could have been if it had not happened - or if I had gotten the ...care and love, and support..that I needed at such a young age.It took until January of this year when I recovered some 45 year old memories of what actually happened when the diagnoses changed to PTSD. At that point I was a mess, in about every way you can be a mess. As that buried locked away memory came to conscious memory it was pure hell. The fact it happened in a hospital was bad. The fact everyone was worried about the physical me, not the mental me was worse. The realization that it triggered the event that led to losing sight in my eye was crushing in a way.
When the doctor at the hospital told my parents that I had PTSD - my mothers mouth fell open. I wish I had looked at my Dad. I remember sitting there and saying to the doctor "tell them what I have". (Inside I knew that they would not believe me)