Back in the 1950's they didn't believe in ptsd. Times have changed, thank goodness. I was a very different type of child: animals cared for me better than humans. I drank water from the same places the animals did. I urinated and defecated out back behind the grapearbor. If the police had not rescued me I would have been buried out there. My step-mother died in prison, my father left the state. Even after I learned how to function in society I was not like a normal person. I had no background. When I was in my 40's a therapist recorded our sessions and came to the conclusion I suffer from Chronic Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. When a life threatening situation arises, I react as a military person would. I've ended up in jail because someone touched me, or caused me pain when they didn't mean to. Thank goodness for Judges who understand PTSD. Over the years military people have known exactly what to do when they've seen me hit the ground, roll and scan the area. Or duck under the nearest desk/car or whateer.
I end up in mental hospitals because I am so different, when I'm triggered and can't pull myself out of it, no one else knows what to do. They think I'm a danger to myself or others (which I'm not). When I'm badly triggered, I lock my doors/windows, unplug or turn off my phone, do not answer the door until I'm back together again. For me, it is the best way to be able to be around regular humans. When I could drive, I'd find myself getting overly people polluted and go up into the rocky mountains away from all humans. Sometimes it took weeks, but it is how I learned to survive as a small (wee child) human. Animals understand. Humans do not. But thank goodness, I have had some wonderful therapists (not many, but a few) who taught me how to function and are there for me when I need to get fresh input. I am now seeing another one whom I adore. He is still adjusting to me. LOL. He also invited Masters-students to sit in on our sessions so they can observe and ask questions. I'm glad to help them to help others like me.
Being online has brought it's own kind of trauma. Cyber stalkers, cyber bullying, cyber rapists, etc. Sometimes, I want to give up, but what is the choice if you do? I close up mentally, and suck my thumb only to wake up in a mental hospital months or even years later. Then, we start all over again. I can not imagine what having family must be like. Oh well. enough of my rambling.
I am, safenow.