[Teacake]

Im not suicidal now.

No one got hit or hurt. The trigger is for horrible imaginings.

I was twenty. I dated a man whose dad was under house arrest somewhere not so nice. Political dad, military government.

The man and I were different colors. We could never have shared makeup foundation. That offended some people in that city in that time. It still offends some people. Their hate might cause cancer.

Some white guys harassed us. We were both naive students. We had seen garden variety racism and been really surprised. We were children. I remember him telling me he hadn't experienced it in the south. He had asked the international student advisor and she told him about hillybillies. He asked me if I knew about them.

It was pre-internet, OK?

So when white guys harassed up I thought they were racists. Racists were already wearing me down and I already had symptoms consistent with PTSD.

His sister got ransacked in France the same summer so he thought we got harassed because of their dad

I don't care author happened or if anyone believes me. White people don't. Brown and third people do.. I'm beyond all that.

I left my boyfriend and our friend in the library and cut through the parking garage as usual. I was in the middle when I realised i was set up for ambush. Three or five, in the garage, surrounding me.

I didn't falter or flinch. I kept walking at the same pace.

I believed i would get my face smashed and my ribs kicked. Mercifully I didnt know about streetfighting or think about being put in a car. I knew they had two minutes or less, couldnt rape me, which would have been humiliating, but would probably smash my face pretty thoroughly and kick me and get away.

I was sick inside, and I remember I had a choice. I was dissociating. If they were approaching I wasnt aware. I was so many paces from the wall I hopped. I could swing my books in that ones face hard and scream for help, maybe make it over the wall and find someone. I was so tired. I was wearing heavy hiking boots. I chose to dissociate and hope I went out fast and wole up clean and bandaged and medicated.

My friend banged down the stairs and was beside me. He was a college boxer. Ilhe expected me to run behind him then run for help. I know he did because he was startled when I stood there and looked fearfully behind him. I felt no relief to see him. I was angry with him because I believed he would be beaten too.

My boyfriend hopped the low wall. Vietnames girls had chased him and run back with him. They wore eighties makeup. It enhanced their worried faces

He was a wrestler. Had been a wrestler. I thought he was Spider Man. He was that agile and quick. He didn't do cardio. That contributed to him breaking that morning.

Nothing happened. The boxer was red faced and fisty. The wrestler looked like he wanted to vomit or cry, but he stood his ground. I think there were five. I see him looking at five. The girls had run, presumably for help. I stood like a zombie but maybe at made us look like three. The assholes faded back. Our friend and I had white wine , big glasses of chablis, with lunch and my boyfriend glowered at us. His ancestors were getting loud in his head.

There was more harassment but there was a change. Other boys protected me. I still find this embarrassing but they did help. The Muslim boys of the international students union, European guys took it upon themselves to handle this situation on campus.

My love lived in a room in a great old house. There were these guys who irritated me in most of the house. They wouldn't return my greeting or look at me. They annoyed my friend. I was irritated by the sight of them in their ridiculous cropped trousers on the roof.

I guess they were mujahedeen. After the big scary their attitude changed. They were gallant and chivalrous. They still wouldn't speak to me or make eye contact but hey were a comfort to me. I felt safe. I refused to change my behavior. Boyfriend could not persuade me. So these guys patrolled my paths and escorted me, refusing to acknowledge me.

I came out of the fog enough to confront one. I got in his face and thanked him.. He was very surprised. I whirled on him fast. He turned bright red and trembled and giggled hysterically. I felt his pain and distress but I made sure he understood me before I left him. He understood me. His face said kindness.

I've never let anyone slander them or dehumanize them in my presence. I know what they are and what they have done and I know it comes from their own PTSD and not their religion or culture.

Anyway, I woke dreaming of men. Not father or lovers, just men as protective comforting figures.

Every summer since that summer has been a suicidal crisis. I think I understand. When I made the decision to dissociate and let myself be attacked, I chose suicide. That's when the thoughts of suicide began.

It wasn't the event that gave me PTSD. It wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. That garage is where I abandoned my life force, lost my soul, accepted assault out of helplessness. And even when I was rescued I remained a zombie.

I think I can fix this

Maybe I need a blog instead of a forum, but I needed to get it out.

[Open Eyes]

Flight, Fight and the one people forget to mention "FREEZE". You did not give up your life, you "froze" Teacake, that is different. You should look that up and find out "why" the brain does that, it is not "your fault". Finding out "why" your brain did that will help you get rid of the distortive way you are looking at it.

You were just a young girl too Teacake, go someplace and be around girls that age, see how very much they still do not know. There is always much more time to look back on something "unexpected" like that and be surprised about what ever way you should have, could have, reacted differently.

I had a similar challenge, the first time I saw my neighbors dog running laps that was hurting my horses and ponies, I did not get how bad it really was. It was late when I went out there and I did not see the entire lap, it was running past one of the horses and within seconds it was in front of me again. Yes, they were all frantic and some got injured and I cursed myself because I had not realized the severity of what I saw. I felt like I should have known better and I failed all of them, everything was bad because I failed to catch on sooner. I got suicidal over that and self blamed badly.

My therapist helped me understand that the reason "why" I didn't catch on sooner is because I have never seen anything like that happen before, it was not anywhere in my subconscious files that would have come up in the right alert for action. My horses and ponies were never afraid of dogs before either so how would I know they would be so frightened by what that dog was doing which was targeting them and working them into a panic to where the result was being injured.

My own daughter did not believe her horse was injured that way either as he had "no fear of dogs whatsoever". It was not until she saw his new reaction of "terror" at now seeing dogs, and so much so that now just seeing them next door frightened him into trying to jump out of his paddock where he did not make it. He was so bad we had to put up a big screen so he could not see those dogs, dogs that he had seen before that never bothered him until he was targeted. He would "freeze" and "shake in terror in a way I have never seen a horse shake before" too.

It is good that you decided to talk about those events so that you can learn to think about how you reacted in a different way, rather than blaming yourself. You need to get rid of that part of the loop in your PTSD.

No, there is nothing wrong with interracial relationships, in fact, it may be the answer to the way the sun is getting stronger now too. Actually, lets all be honest, we do not have a "black" president either, he in actually interracial. And while "some" are still all stuck up about it, many are "not".

((Hugs))
OE

[Teacake]

Thanks for not letting me hang it out there alone, OE.

I know all about freeze. We've got three basic states. We've got mammalian parasympathy, the newest vagus we've evolved, where we play with babies and love one another. We've got autonomic arousal, where we get a burst of energy to clean the house , file the taxes or run from predators. And we've got our old snaky vagus, the one that puts us asleep when we get overwhelmed.

That freeze state is death. It's life preserving but its also death. I went out so would feel no pain. I made the decision not to fight. It wasn't wrong at all. Tactically it was correct. Had I tried to run and they caught me it would have been worse for all three of us. As it was because our friend showed up and I stood instead of running, we were three instead of one. I don't feel I did the wrong thing at all. My body did the right thing.

I was 22 years old telling my doctor there was something wrong with me and it had something to do with being parasympathetic when I ought not be. I was explaining it pretty accurately in my estimation. I was a weird girl, but I was pretty ans well mannered. No one knew what to make of me.

[Teacake]

Anyway, I came home today and without thinking put on lentils with cumin and asafoetida, to make make house smell like the house my boyfriend lived in that summer. The one with the eighties afghans perched on the roof. They also made tea with cardamom and the house smelled of murphy oil soap too. It had a paneled sliding library door and a grand staircase and marble fixtures.

PTSD isn't all sadness and regret. It's just life. I made it to fifty and believe me I wouldn't trade my life for any other. Not when I remember wanting to hug and kiss the Taliban who probably has PTSD from my braless sincerity all up in his beard.

[Open Eyes]

Originally Posted by Teacake

Thanks for not letting me hang it out there alone, OE.

I know all about freeze. We've got three basic states. We've got mammalian parasympathy, the newest vagus we've evolved, where we play with babies and love one another. We've got autonomic arousal, where we get a burst of energy to clean the house , file the taxes or run from predators. And we've got our old snaky vagus, the one that puts us asleep when we get overwhelmed.

That freeze state is death. It's life preserving but its also death. I went out so would feel no pain. I made the decision not to fight. It wasn't wrong at all. Tactically it was correct. Had I tried to run and they caught me it would have been worse for all three of us. As it was because our friend showed up and I stood instead of running, we were three instead of one. I don't feel I did the wrong thing at all. My body did the right thing.

I was 22 years old telling my doctor there was something wrong with me and it had something to do with being parasympathetic when I ought not be. I was explaining it pretty accurately in my estimation. I was a weird girl, but I was pretty ans well mannered. No one knew what to make of me.

It is good that you can discuss the whole thing with this self affirmation included.

[Open Eyes]

It is also "good" that you are thinking and celebrating the "positives" that is important and "healing". That is much better than the thoughts you were having when you started this thread, including the title.

Yes, you know this, but you needed a witness, you needed just someone to listen while you worked through it. You did good.

((Hugs))

[Teacake]

I meant to say, suicidal thoughts in PTSD may be reenactment of the trauma causing freeze.

When we are ready to shake off trauma finally, we may cycle through freeze state and get suicidal.because they are the same. When I chose to dissociate up into freeze rather than get into my body and fightc I made the correct choice, but it was literally a choice accepting death.

Sensei later told me, if you are a 22 year old girl surrounded by three to five men, kill one. Sensei helped my recovery more than I can say. I love him for it.

I did choose to surrender to dissociation/freeze/death. I've always known there was the moment I chose not to fight. In lighter boots I might have run.

I think suicide as the panacea is about that moment. I was never suicidal before. I was suicidal after, very often frivolously suicidal.

You know or, the dangerous suicidal part ot Ptsd isnt deep depression but bouncing in and out between feeeze and high autonomic arousal.