[thickntired]

Hi,

I have backed out of all kinds of relationships - even buying a dog at the pound. I don't look at it like how wonderful to have this loving companion in my life. I think oh yeah they're going to die. I swear it's the reason I didn't have kids and said I'd never get married. I did get married, but I was manic and it's falling apart as I type.

Does anyone else see this black and white?

[MotownJohnny]

I always felt, ever since I was quite young, that there was no real point to planning a life, because I was certain I was going to die ... more accurately, make that be killed, murdered ... and that even carried through to adulthood, when I, more vaguely, would just say, "well, it doesn't matter, I'll never live to be 30" or "I'll never make it to 40".

It is actually a recognized symptom of PTSD - in the DSM IV, they put it this way:

Sense of a foreshortened future (e.g., does not expect to have a career, marriage, children, or a normal lifespan)

The DSM V doesn't make a statement like that - and I feel that that is an unfortunate change, because that sense of nihilism seems "so PTSD" to me -- the closest they come is if you read between the lines of these two:

Persistent (and often distorted) negative beliefs and expectations about oneself or the world (e.g., "I am bad," "The world is completely dangerous").

Markedly diminished interest in (pre-traumatic) significant activities.

I always felt that way, and because of that, I underachieved according to my true potential. Which is just another thing that was stolen from me.

[thickntired]

I can agree with this, MTJ. I never had the kind of aspirations that some normal kids have in life. I never dreamed of what I would be when I grew up in fact that was a confusing question where I lied. I never dreamed of being a bride, having a baby, the white picket fence and all of those things that I knew people planning in high school.

I don't know if I thought I would be dead per say I didn't care one way or the other.

[Teacake]

I thought I would make something of myself, until trauma happened at eighteen. Had I been helped to recover I might have become something. I never wanted to be a bride or a mother or have a picket fence. I wanted other things. I became a mother. My son has a great life and I'm glad I passed on my genes. He is so beautiful...and his girl is beautiful and smart...if they have children they will be lucky children. It makes me feel I've done an important job in evolving my family line. I've stopped mourning my potential.

[MotownJohnny]

All of that really hit home to me at age 18, in a college English class. We had an assignment to write about where we would be in 10 years, and we had to give an oral presentation about it. I pretty much zoned out on the women (sorry, ladies). I keyed in on the guys as they gave their presentations. They all talked about dating, marrying, careers, and especially about having kids (well, maybe they all didn't, but I had a laser-like focus on the guys that mentioned that).

Because the relationship/kids issue ... really hurt. There was one guy who spoke, and it really, really cut to the quick. He talked about what a great dad he had - apparently his father was also the coach of his HS basketball team, and he idolized his dad (or at least said he did). And, he talked about how he wanted to be the kind of father his dad was.

Obviously, that really cut to the chase of my issues. These other guys had dads who coached them in basketball, took them on fishing trips, whatever ... I had the nightmare transvestite who pointed rifle barrels at me and called me a worthless piece of excrement.

I remember what I did after that class - it was a late morning class, so it got out like 11:30 ish - it was a cool, windy early April day, with the grass just beginning to green up, and the sun popping in and out from behind puffy white clouds. I walked towards the center of campus, towards the river, about maybe half a mile from the where the class was, and I went down to the river bank behind the Administration building, in the middle of this crowded campus just before lunch time, teeming with people going by, and I sat on the seawall and dangled my feet over the water and cried. Luckily, no one approached me - I was controlled enough that I wasn't obvious, I could have passed it off as an allergy attack or bad cold or something in my eyes if I had to. But, I was glad none of the religious zealots who were always running around trying to proselytize to the "vulnerable" students saw me (I hated that ... I knew I was miserable, I didn't need someone to come up to me and ask me if I wanted to be saved by Jesus - it would take a lot more than Jesus, trust me).

I just new I would never be a husband, or a father ... my childhood was too traumatic, I had serious questions about the stability of my gene pool in terms of mental illness - I just figured that it would be grossly unfair to ensnare another human being in the quicksand of my life.

BTW, my presentation and paper was just pure bullsh**. I made crap up, just to make a good public showing. I knew then none of it would come true, because at 18, I honestly felt like I would NEVER live to be 22 or 25, let alone 30. So, it didn't matter - I was already a dead man walking. Why bother planning for the future when you don't have one.

And THAT is PTSD, in a nutshell.

[thickntired]

Teacake,

I'm glad that you have so much love for your son. Unfortunately, that is often lacking in parents these days. And you did become something. You became a Mom which is one of the very hardest roles to fulfill. Your potential will carry on as you carry on your love to your kids and maybe even grandkids.

BTW, I have the picture to match your profile name

[thickntired]

MTJ - I'm so very sorry about your sorry excuse for a dad. There are so many people in this world that have no right raising children. I went to a Catholic high sch and was a total outcast. They sure as hell did not emulate Christ when it came to how I was treated. When I was in college I worked at a retirement home and an elderly retired pdoc asked me what I wanted to be. I said I wanted to be a good person. Part of my childhood is repressed, but as far back as I can remember I have never been mentally stable. Besides the trauma there are loads of alcoholics on my mother's side and I was a heavy addict for 30 years. I went years undiagnosed but knew I was seriously ill. My mom went ballistic because I had a hysterectomy at age 35. Even the doctor and nurse tried to talk me out of the surgery. I always knew that "crazy" wouldn't go over too well in a marriage and raising kids took stability.

[MotownJohnny]

Thanks, thickntired. I like this line, I so relate to it:

"I always knew that "crazy" wouldn't go over too well in a marriage and raising kids took stability."

Back then, I never worried about being "crazy" per se -- but I always questioned my genetics ... I still do. He was truly "crazy" - paranoid delusional. His mother was worse -- I would say she had either a rip-roaring personality disorder or ... God knows what. (I know, I stated before I didn't believe in personality disorders -- maybe she was just evil, plain and simple).

Whatever, I was always afraid that something would go wrong -- I guess I was afraid that I would end up hurting someone the way I was hurt. Even though I felt there was like a one in 10,000 chance of that ... it was a chance I just was NOT willing to take.

Now I regret that. I know I "had a crisis" - I guess that is the sugar-coated way of saying I had a breakdown, I went nuts, whatever .... but even in my depths, I never had any negative force directed towards any other living being -- just me. I think that actually confirmed to me that ... I'm a pretty good guy after all. And it made it all the harder for me, actually, coming off of that in 2012, I had the sense of "what an idiot, I WOULD have made a great husband and father" and the sense of "well, now it's too late ... not only too old, but worse, now I'm a blight upon society, nothing but a mental patient, and clearly not husband or father material."

I know ... that is in my head, not in the real world. It still feels real, and it still hurts.

[Teacake]

I think the hardest thing I've ever done has been to reconcile strong feelings of hatred and revenge and rage with kindness and compassion. It's hard to be real.

Yesterday in therapy I really got that people care about me and like me because I am good. I am good because I've faced all the crazy angry stuff in me. I've faced it and accepted it. I've accepted my body with its animal instincts for self preservation and its rage and vengefulness. We can't transcend it until we accept it. We can't transcend trauma until we accept everything about it, including the terror of death.

[thickntired]

Originally Posted by MotownJohnny

Thanks, thickntired. I like this line, I so relate to it:

"I always knew that "crazy" wouldn't go over too well in a marriage and raising kids took stability."

Back then, I never worried about being "crazy" per se -- but I always questioned my genetics ... I still do. He was truly "crazy" - paranoid delusional. His mother was worse -- I would say she had either a rip-roaring personality disorder or ... God knows what. (I know, I stated before I didn't believe in personality disorders -- maybe she was just evil, plain and simple).

Whatever, I was always afraid that something would go wrong -- I guess I was afraid that I would end up hurting someone the way I was hurt. Even though I felt there was like a one in 10,000 chance of that ... it was a chance I just was NOT willing to take.

Now I regret that. I know I "had a crisis" - I guess that is the sugar-coated way of saying I had a breakdown, I went nuts, whatever .... but even in my depths, I never had any negative force directed towards any other living being -- just me. I think that actually confirmed to me that ... I'm a pretty good guy after all. And it made it all the harder for me, actually, coming off of that in 2012, I had the sense of "what an idiot, I WOULD have made a great husband and father" and the sense of "well, now it's too late ... not only too old, but worse, now I'm a blight upon society, nothing but a mental patient, and clearly not husband or father material."

I know ... that is in my head, not in the real world. It still feels real, and it still hurts.

I also used to worry that I might hurt a person. I think with some mental illness our darkest fears, things that would never happen, lurk to the front of our minds. I am the most passive person in the world and run from confrontation. I have been many a person's door mat in the past. I'm sorry you feel it's too late to be a husband or father because I disagree. But there are millions of people who never married or had children and live very happy and fulfilled lives. I don't think it's healthy to define our life purpose by roles made up by society. Just look at the American dream as told by TV sitcoms - Pshaw! I am also a mental patient, and I have failed miserably at many, many things. But, not everyone had my childhood or grew up living with my mental handicaps. If they think I'm a blight then they are cruel. As for marriage, it is a daily pressure to not be "mental" and pretend to be normal. I hate it because it is a constant reminder of what I am not.

[thickntired]

Originally Posted by Teacake

I think the hardest thing I've ever done has been to reconcile strong feelings of hatred and revenge and rage with kindness and compassion. It's hard to be real.

Yesterday in therapy I really got that people care about me and like me because I am good. I am good because I've faced all the crazy angry stuff in me. I've faced it and accepted it. I've accepted my body with its animal instincts for self preservation and its rage and vengefulness. We can't transcend it until we accept it. We can't transcend trauma until we accept everything about it, including the terror of death.

That is beautifully written. Thank you for giving me hope. I have a book on ptsd that reminds me of your animal instinct.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/155643233X/...sl_lvivxjrvv_e