I'm a bit of an enigma in that I don't remember a time when I didn't have ptsd, yet if you had told me when I was 40 that I had been badly abused as a child I would have looked at you like you had a snake on your head. In my foo denial is just a river in Egypt, as they say.

I am now 52 and have spent the last 10 years or so working to be...not necessarily normal, but a close facsimile simply because I think normal would be incredibly boring.

Ever since I can remember I've had a host of physical ailments with no known cause that any doctor could find, and was frequently thought of as a hypochondriac or attention-seeking. There were times when I had panic attacks but I didn't know what that was, and so just basically learned to live with it. Even when I wasn't having attacks, I always felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't quite catch my breath, and I was always terrified of something I couldn't name but I knew it was a monster that I couldn't fight and so I tucked it all away in some place inside me, buried it, and tried my best to ignore it and forget about it. As I think always happens in such cases, the day arrives when the dam breaks and the walls come crashing down around you and you are powerless to stop it. At that point, I had one of two choices, find out what this was, or die. All I knew was that I couldn't live with it anymore and it was tearing my marriage apart.

One day my husband did the unthinkable. He gave me an ultimatum. Either give up my job as a high school teacher or he would leave and take the kids with him. Sounds horrible I know, but he literally saved my life that day. We have been together now for 22 years.

When he first did that, the one person I wanted to talk to was my father-in-law because I thought surely he could make his son understand me better, but Pops had passed away a few years before that, so I sought out his best friend, who happened to be a priest. I spent three hours explaining all the reasons why my husband was completely wrong and that HE was the problem, not me. The priest listened attentively, looked at me and said,"There is something from your past you need to deal with, and until you do, things will only get worse." Not what I was expecting to hear to say the least.....
So I sought out a therapist, and later a psychiatrist and after 18 months of bi-monthly EMDR sessions, I was getting closer to being human again, but I still had a long way to go. That all happened in 2003 and I continued to see both the therapist and the psych for 4 years.

A few months ago, I decided it was time to go back. I can't say exactly why, but there were warning signs I have learned it's best not to ignore. I now live in a different state, so I had to find new professionals to work with. It took some doing, but I found M. who I jokingly complain about the way she keeps whipping bricks at my head. Sometimes, they're more like cinder blocks..... I was a bit leery of M. at first, as she is very unconventional compared to my first therapist. M. wears her individuality like a badge of honor and I find that I look forward to seeing what color scheme she has chosen to wear that day.

Lately, the two biggies M. has thrown my way are (brick) why I don't hesitate to protect the people closest to me like my kids, husband, and grandson from my abuser or any other threat - like a she-bear protecting her cubs (i.e. maul first ask questions later), but I don't have the same passion when it comes to protecting myself. All I can figure out is that I'm not worthy in some way, or maybe because I'm so terrified of my abuser I'm paralyzed.

The other profound revelation (cement block) is that my BP mother/abuser has no more control over her rages than I have over my over-sensitive startle reflex. There's more to it, and I have a lot of questions as I'm not sure I believe M., though she has never given me reason not to....it's too much. If she's right, it changes EVERYTHING and that is about to tear me apart.

I think I would like some feedback from any BP mothers who might be able to help me understand better (until recently, I thought I did, btw) what's happening with her. I would give anything to ask her myself, but I'm terrified of what might happen if I did.