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*PeaceLily*
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Trig Nov 17, 2014 at 05:33 PM
  #1
I put the trigger symbol on this thread just in case.

I was wondering what experiences have lead you here? Did something specific cause it, or was it a hotpotch of various things? Was is a singular event or was it a longterm situation? Is it ptsd or 'complex' ptsd, ( I dont think thats an official diagnosis in most places, if anywhere, but it's a very real thing.) Do you know specifically what caused it or do you not know what caused it specifically, you just know that you have had a generally traumatic life which lead to developing post traumatic stress?

Please don't answer this thread if it may put you in a vulnerable position or trigger ptsd symptoms.I'm not sure if this is an insensitive thread...I just don't want to feel so alone, that's all.I guess that's what I am aiming for

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Last edited by *PeaceLily*; Nov 17, 2014 at 06:29 PM..
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Default Nov 17, 2014 at 06:05 PM
  #2
For me, it was emotional, physical, and sexual abuse for most of my childhood and teenage years; trauma suffered in psych units/hospitals from people who were supposedly helping me; a physical assault; and repeated sexual assaults as an adult (in a psych hospital). It's now being compounded by poverty and chronic physical illness/pain.
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Default Nov 18, 2014 at 11:39 AM
  #3
Quote:
Originally Posted by *PeaceLily* View Post
I put the trigger symbol on this thread just in case.

I was wondering what experiences have lead you here? Did something specific cause it, or was it a hotpotch of various things? Was is a singular event or was it a longterm situation? Is it ptsd or 'complex' ptsd, ( I dont think thats an official diagnosis in most places, if anywhere, but it's a very real thing.) Do you know specifically what caused it or do you not know what caused it specifically, you just know that you have had a generally traumatic life which lead to developing post traumatic stress?

Please don't answer this thread if it may put you in a vulnerable position or trigger ptsd symptoms.I'm not sure if this is an insensitive thread...I just don't want to feel so alone, that's all.I guess that's what I am aiming for

xxx
what lead me here to psych central. my therapist told me about psych central. At that time one of my diagnosis was DID. I was going through integration of my alters and she felt I may possibly find others like me here. I did not but when I considered leaving psych central others asked me to stay. I did so due to the saying we have here where I live and work...to help others is to help oneself.

how did I get PTSD....I am a survivor of child sexual abuse.

you are sort of right...here in america the diagnostic labling of complex PTSD has changed. like with many mental disorders with the new diagnostics many mental disorders diagnostics have changed. With complex PTSD a majority of their diagnostics now fit in with the diagnostic labeling of PTSD and those complex PTSD diagnostics that dont fit in with PTSD are are now diagnosed with the new labels of ...Other Specified trauma and stressor related disorder (abbreviated as OSTSRD where I live and work) and the diagnostic label ...Unspecified Trauma and Stressor related disorder (abbreviated as USTSRD where I live and work) . it is a real thing just changed labeling and diagnostic criteria, like with other mental disorders in the new DSM 5.

a bit of info I know people with PTSD, OSTSRD, USTSRD and did not have a trauma filled life. their problems stemmed from natural disasters like hurricane Sandy, House fires, and other things like one time crimes of School shootings, rape and others. there are many things that cause a person to have trauma related symptoms and diagnosis's. it just depends upon what each persons mind considered to be a traumatic event for them.
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Default Nov 18, 2014 at 01:44 PM
  #4
I was emotionally, verbally, physically abused by my father. He molested me several times. He beat my mother and brother in front of me, raped my mother twice in front of me. Threatened to shoot us numerous times. He would chase us around with loaded rifles and we'd hide.

I was only 8 or 9 when he raped and beat my mother. I feel guilt like I should have done more. I ran and told the neighbors, but by that time, she was a bloody mess. I should have stayed and done something to make him stop but I was afraid.

He did much, much more. From my earliest memories until I was 17 years old, he was there making everyday a living hell. And there wasn't anything I could do about it back then. It wasn't like today where you could tell a teacher or call authorities. Men were considered head of the household and people didn't talk about what they did.

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Default Nov 18, 2014 at 03:09 PM
  #5
My mother had MS and was also an alcoholic. So I didn't have as stable a childhood as all that, though my dad did do everything he could to make things safe. I was also sexually assaulted when I was about 8, I remember very little about the event but more about my mother's reaction as she implied it was my fault as I should have known there was something wrong and left before anything could happen. I had no close friends through most of my childhood, and was bullied - perhaps because I tended to be quiet and withdrawn. That didn't help.
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Default Nov 18, 2014 at 05:16 PM
  #6
I was number 5 of 6 kids and an unwanted child. My mother seemed to hate me from birth. She was extremely cruel and negligent with me even when I was a baby. My older sister witnessed the negligence but she was only a kid herself. My mother fits the profile of a narcissistic sociopath. My father beat all of us with a strap for the stupidest of reasons usually at my mother's command. There was constant violence and fighting in the home because of my three older brothers and my parents. One of my older bros bullied me too. I was with my mother and my bully bros as a child until my bro started school. When I got older I was raped twice and was in three physically and emotionally abusive relationships. I only just recently started remembering in counseling that I was sexually molested under the age of ten by people outside the family.

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Default Nov 18, 2014 at 09:40 PM
  #7
My mother physically, verbally and emotionally abused me from birth to when i finally escaped at the age of 20 (i ran away three times before then, but was always sent back). She threatened to kill me numerous times and every so often took the daily 'discipline' so far that I was left in no doubt she could kill me. Often I wished she would.

Alongside this, my father sexually abused me, starting at age 4 and continuing on and off until I was 18 or so. It stopped for a year or so when i was 10 after he groped the babysitter (i still blame myself for this), but started again once the heat from that died down.

I was also bullied all through high school, and raped by a friend's boyfriend when i was 16. I couldn't tell my parents and didn't report it as i had no support around me.

For me, the worst part was that my father ignored everything my mother did to me, even when i begged him to protect me from her (i was more afraid of her than i was of him). And she knew what he was doing too (she caught him coming out of my room one night) and chose to ignore it. The way they each ignored the other's behaviour (and the way it was ignored by other people who witnessed things) seemed to confirm that it was my fault and i deserved it.

I have huge gaps in my memory, and a fragmented inner world, because i dissociated extensively. The one thing i do not have is a happy childhood memory. When i wasn't dissociated, i lived in terror.

It's taken 3.5 years in therapy to be able to say that i was abused, and most of the time i still blame myself and feel disloyal for talking about it.

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Default Nov 19, 2014 at 08:17 PM
  #8
Hi peace,
My ptsd was triggered by what my father did to me before he past away two years ago . He was trying to penetrate me but he couldn't do it cuz my body said no .

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Trig Nov 21, 2014 at 02:19 AM
  #9
My disorder stems from childhood sexual abuse starting at age 3 and ending at age 10. I also witnessed a child playmate violently ganged raped by a group of older boys. Finally sexual and physical assault as an adult is what finally threw me over the ptsd abyss.
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Default Nov 21, 2014 at 08:43 AM
  #10
I grew up as the youngest child of three. I guess one could say that I was that child that the older siblings did boss around, especially my older sister who was 4 years older than me. She definitely was the boss and things had to be "her" way. She did hate my brother though and even tried to kill him when he was little by trying to shove a facecloth in his mouth.

My older brother was a challenge, my mother had to watch him as he would get out of the house and go off, went down to the wetlands alot and my mother would often have to go looking for him. I think he either had ADHD or is on the autisic spectrum. My parents were very frustrated with him, I was afraid of him as I was so little. I remember sitting in the waiting room of a psychiatrist my parents took him to and praying that man would know how to help my older brother. After him seeing the psychiatrist, everything got worse, the psychiatrist instructed my parents to keep diciplining him, do not coddle him or even bath him he told my mother. The dicipline seemed constant and my brother was taken out to a shed out back and we could hear him screaming and crying and I remember how upsetting that was. Now that I think about it, I don't think my father liked that, I think he was just following directions about "keep strong dicipline". I do remember my mother pacing the floors during these episodes saying how she felt it was wrong, "A mother is supposed to cuddle and care for a child" she would say. They did fight about it too as my father kept reminding her how the psychiatrist strictly expressed how important strong dicipline was.

Then when it came time for me to start school and get on the school bus from the first day I got to see how all the children on the bus were treating my brother horribly. They would not sit with him and picked on him the entire route to school. He did not fight back, he looked out the window and often tears were running down his cheeks. It was just as bad at school as ALL the adults were constantly punishing him and making him sit in the corner or sit in the principles office. All of this stressed him so badly that he would wet his bed, pee on the floor and suck his thumb ravonously all night long and his lips were always swollen and blistering, it did not matter how bad his lips got, what my parents put on his thumb, he would still suck on it in his sleep. The other children made fun of him and all called him "big lips" and chant songs about big lips on the bus. Yes, he got spanked for wetting his bed too and sucking his thumb, he still did it and my mother had to make his bed with shower curtains. The advice was always the same, firmer dicipline and I saw him endure that from EVERYONE.

I saw he had NO ONE so I became his friend, I had to play with him in secret though as my older sister always threatened me "you better not play with him" and give me a mean face.

Grammer school seemed forever because he stayed back twice and I stayed back once.
I stayed back because by the time I got to school I was exhausted from seeing him picked on and seeing him trying so hard to bear it. I now realize that I struggled to pay attention in school because I was not only stressed out by the time I got there, but I was constantly worried about him all day because of how everyone was so mean to him.

But, when I played with him so he would have "someone" he was not a bad child, he loved to play, he could be a good boy and it seemed like I was the only one who could see that. I even remember vividly how this group of boys were going to beat him up.
I did not want him to be alone so I dressed up like a boy with a baseball cap. And when the group of boys came and stood there at a distance talking about how they were going to beat him up, I still remember how I thought that I was probably going to be beaten up because I had no idea how to fight. I just knew that I had to stand there and act like I was not scared and more than willing to fight. We got lucky, our plan worked, because my brother was not alone, these boys did not engage in beating him up.

However, as my brother struggled so much every day, he would get so he got to a point where the anger would build up in him and he would need to rage. I had to learn when that was going to happen because then I would have to run and hide. I used to climb these tall pine trees I was probably 40ft up because I could see all the roof tops. I would have to wait there until my mother would get home. I never blamed my brother because I knew he had just reached that rage level and I was often amazed at how long he would endure until that would happen.

Oh, the teachers were so mean to him and I especially remember his sixth grade teacher who was a very tall man who told him he should not even go to school because he was so stupid and would never amount to anything. This teacher hit him with rulers and throw erasers at him and make him sit in the corner and that only encouraged other kids to reject him even more. I remember worrying about him during his recess because then the other children would pick on him, he would have no one to play with him. I was always worried about him, honestly I don't know how I learned anything, I was alway so distracted and worried and tired too. The teachers were picking on me too, scolding me about not paying attention enough. I remember I did get sick a lot too, and I almost died of phemonia because of sitting up in those pine trees so long in the cold.

I will stop there because I have to go do my day.
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Default Nov 21, 2014 at 10:02 AM
  #11
I was emotionally and physically abused by my mother, severely neglected by my father, and molested many, many times by strangers (we lived in Saudi Arabia at the time, so nothing could be done about the molestation). I've also been raped and beaten up. My younger sister was the golden child, so any attention I received was negative. Now I'm terrified of any situation where I could receive negative attention. The only exception is karaoke for some reason. I sing for myself and don't care what people think. Luckily I'm pretty good at it! Lol

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Default Nov 21, 2014 at 04:08 PM
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I am now recovered, but mine was caused after I was raped by a group of 3 men while walking home from a party. There is hope for recovery!
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Default Nov 21, 2014 at 07:28 PM
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Combat in Afghanistan
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Default Nov 23, 2014 at 12:23 PM
  #14
Quote:
Originally Posted by Open Eyes View Post
I grew up as the youngest child of three. I guess one could say that I was that child that the older siblings did boss around, especially my older sister who was 4 years older than me. She definitely was the boss and things had to be "her" way. She did hate my brother though and even tried to kill him when he was little by trying to shove a facecloth in his mouth.

My older brother was a challenge, my mother had to watch him as he would get out of the house and go off, went down to the wetlands alot and my mother would often have to go looking for him. I think he either had ADHD or is on the autisic spectrum. My parents were very frustrated with him, I was afraid of him as I was so little. I remember sitting in the waiting room of a psychiatrist my parents took him to and praying that man would know how to help my older brother. After him seeing the psychiatrist, everything got worse, the psychiatrist instructed my parents to keep diciplining him, do not coddle him or even bath him he told my mother. The dicipline seemed constant and my brother was taken out to a shed out back and we could hear him screaming and crying and I remember how upsetting that was. Now that I think about it, I don't think my father liked that, I think he was just following directions about "keep strong dicipline". I do remember my mother pacing the floors during these episodes saying how she felt it was wrong, "A mother is supposed to cuddle and care for a child" she would say. They did fight about it too as my father kept reminding her how the psychiatrist strictly expressed how important strong dicipline was.

Then when it came time for me to start school and get on the school bus from the first day I got to see how all the children on the bus were treating my brother horribly. They would not sit with him and picked on him the entire route to school. He did not fight back, he looked out the window and often tears were running down his cheeks. It was just as bad at school as ALL the adults were constantly punishing him and making him sit in the corner or sit in the principles office. All of this stressed him so badly that he would wet his bed, pee on the floor and suck his thumb ravonously all night long and his lips were always swollen and blistering, it did not matter how bad his lips got, what my parents put on his thumb, he would still suck on it in his sleep. The other children made fun of him and all called him "big lips" and chant songs about big lips on the bus. Yes, he got spanked for wetting his bed too and sucking his thumb, he still did it and my mother had to make his bed with shower curtains. The advice was always the same, firmer dicipline and I saw him endure that from EVERYONE.

I saw he had NO ONE so I became his friend, I had to play with him in secret though as my older sister always threatened me "you better not play with him" and give me a mean face.

Grammer school seemed forever because he stayed back twice and I stayed back once.
I stayed back because by the time I got to school I was exhausted from seeing him picked on and seeing him trying so hard to bear it. I now realize that I struggled to pay attention in school because I was not only stressed out by the time I got there, but I was constantly worried about him all day because of how everyone was so mean to him.

But, when I played with him so he would have "someone" he was not a bad child, he loved to play, he could be a good boy and it seemed like I was the only one who could see that. I even remember vividly how this group of boys were going to beat him up.
I did not want him to be alone so I dressed up like a boy with a baseball cap. And when the group of boys came and stood there at a distance talking about how they were going to beat him up, I still remember how I thought that I was probably going to be beaten up because I had no idea how to fight. I just knew that I had to stand there and act like I was not scared and more than willing to fight. We got lucky, our plan worked, because my brother was not alone, these boys did not engage in beating him up.

However, as my brother struggled so much every day, he would get so he got to a point where the anger would build up in him and he would need to rage. I had to learn when that was going to happen because then I would have to run and hide. I used to climb these tall pine trees I was probably 40ft up because I could see all the roof tops. I would have to wait there until my mother would get home. I never blamed my brother because I knew he had just reached that rage level and I was often amazed at how long he would endure until that would happen.

Oh, the teachers were so mean to him and I especially remember his sixth grade teacher who was a very tall man who told him he should not even go to school because he was so stupid and would never amount to anything. This teacher hit him with rulers and throw erasers at him and make him sit in the corner and that only encouraged other kids to reject him even more. I remember worrying about him during his recess because then the other children would pick on him, he would have no one to play with him. I was always worried about him, honestly I don't know how I learned anything, I was alway so distracted and worried and tired too. The teachers were picking on me too, scolding me about not paying attention enough. I remember I did get sick a lot too, and I almost died of phemonia because of sitting up in those pine trees so long in the cold.

I will stop there because I have to go do my day.
When I finally got away from my brother by being sent to a private school, I finally began to have a chance to learn how to relax more and learn. However, I did carry a message of believing I was not so smart because of how I was often treated in coming up behind my older brother as well as struggling to concentrate because I was always stressing about him so much.

I finally got to have friends without others identifying me with my older brother too. However, I did not like to be in any group that would pick on others or tell me not to like certain girls either and I refused to join in on any ridiculing of friends. I was told I was too nice constantly.

I finally decided that I would secretly try to really apply myself and I took my geometry book and taught myself most of the book to prepare for a big test that involved the entire book. I figured if I did not do well, no one would know but me. So after studying and teaching myself I took the test and when it came time for the teacher to pass out the graded tests, she was angry with the class because of how many failed the test. I figured I was included in those that failed. Then the teacher asked the class, "guess who got the highest grade, a 97, and if this student did so well then everyone should have aced it. Then she called out my name and everyone turned and looked at me and because of how this teacher had basically said, if this dumb student can do so well then everyone should have. I was so embarassed and could not wait until class was over and as soon as it was I ran out to my car and left the school. It never occurred to me that I could do that because I had a high IQ and that I was actually very smart after all. So after that I was afraid to do well. I hid a lot of things, taught myself to play the guitar, did a lot of private art work, and I wrote songs and poems and kept them private. However, the art teacher happened to see some of my work and asked me if I would put some pieces together and enter them in a competition amongst all the other schools. Once again I pushed myself to be brave and I did win first place however, I have to admit that I struggled and did not want to stand out because of it.

All the while I was always privately working with children, I had built up my own little string of families where I was the popular babysitter because I actually took interest and time with the children and I sang to them and played songs on my guitar.

I took voice lessons and the teacher told me about a band that was looking for a lead singer and to go and try out. So, I did and became a lead singer in a band. I did enjoy that, however, I was not ready for the stalkers and my agent mauling me, I was not ready for the kind of attention I was getting that was negative. I was chased in parking lots, approached by strangers while getting in my car and pushed into my car with the shift in my back and the strange guy trying to get my clothes off, luckily someone I knew drove up and the person ran away. A producer offered to back me and send me to Berkley school of music. I went back on to do another set and all the time I was singing all I could think about is if it is this crazy now, it must be unbelievable on a higher level so I declined the offer and eventually gave up the stage.

I finally met my husband and he was so kind and gentle and respectful. I did not notice his challenges. I married a man with the same challenges my older brother had and he had ways of dealing with it that he never showed me while we were dating. So I ended up in the circle of binge alcoholism of being good then not good but appologizing profusely and then being good until finally I just could not take it and a friend of mine was getting a divorce and told me about binge alcoholism. I finally put my foot down to where my husband went to an AA meeting and committed to staying sober. In my book, if someone is trying that person deserves to be supported with that.

I also had a child who was a beautiful intelligent child, but she too had a learning disability. So I slowly learned all about that and spent a lot of time making sure she was supported with "how" she could learn, because she too has a very high IQ, only her brain does learn differently.

I have to take another break. I am realizing that I have left some things out and my story is going to be rather long.
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Default Nov 25, 2014 at 01:54 AM
  #15
Mine was my own fault in a way. A therapist said OCD can cause people to have urges to confessions etc. I had these urges back in 2010/2011/2012 and throughout that period I confessed to sexual sins in graphic detail in front of my parents and family and psychiatrist and his assistant and parents and they all went horribly. I got complex PTSD from all that. I was diagnosed a couple weeks ago.
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