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You Know You Have PTSD When...

You know you have PTSD when while dividing up roles for presentations, the group automatically turns to you and says "You be our clicker person. Just click the space bar after each speech." because they know your anxiety is too high that month to consider talking for one minute in front of forty people, let alone ten minutes.

You know you have PTSD when your friend offers to change her hair colour and dye it when she learns from another friend that her hair colour is a trigger- thus the reason you've been avoiding her on Facebook Chat and crying when you see her. (I was scared that I'd scare her off... she told me to text her when I felt triggered to warn her, and that I should give her more credit. :oops:)

Have I told everybody yet how AWESOME my friends are? I love them. :inlove:
 
You know you have PTSD when you sit in your car until the very, very, very last minute possible moment to go and get your daughter from school because you are afraid that if you have to stand out there with the rest of the moms you will either:

  • have a massive panic attack
  • say something that will further alienate yourself
  • just completely go insane altogether and have to be carted away by an ambulance to the local psych ward.
 
You know you have PTSD when...

You mutter to yourself over and over for six hours while in public with your mother, "Go away you're not real, go away you're not real, go away you're not real, go away you're not real." And your mother simply says "Are you okay? You have a dazed look in your eye, and you're usually such a chatterbox." but says no more on the subject as you ignore her.

You come on the forum as soon as you wake up, and have "forum withdrawals" when at school, much like "drug withdrawals," and you wish that there were some easy way to access it like one would access illegal drugs by smoking them instead of injecting them at school.

You realize that drug addicts are able to get their drug more than you are able to, and it drives you nuts.

You've lost so much sleep over exams, flashbacks, essays, scary thoughts and so on, you firmly believe that there should be a Naptime class in university specifically for those with PTSD- anyone have a sleeping bag and my teddy? :sleep:
 
May I just say that the chant was directed not at my mommy, but it was meant to be directed at my teacher who was slapping me hard and calling me a horrible child when I was walking with Mommy.

You know you have PTSD when you start to hate English after your teacher picks out passages in plays that your reading, to read to the class as examples, and she manages to pick THE ONE PAGE IN EVERY PLAY that has hitting in it, causing you to cry for ten minutes quietly and tense up. I'm considering telling her, but there's only two more weeks. But... but what if it's on the exam? Oh god. :cry:
 

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