now that my trauma has compounded, getting through each day proves to be a massive feat.

it’s to the point where just looking after my two dogs throws me into a complete state of utter burnout. it feels impossible to to do anything but look after myself, and even that is questionable.

is this an actual phenomenon or just unique to me?!

i’ve been with my current partner going on 3 years now. they’re absolutely amazing and they’re aware of my past experiences with abuse and SA , so they’re very careful to make sure i’m okay with what we do in bed.
i have a hard time with anything where i have to take control, i feel like i become too aware of what’s going on and then it causes me to spiral into a panic attack. i only really enjoy sex when i get into a mindset where i can kinda zone out and turn my brain off? i know that doesn’t sound good lmao. but i don’t know.. its so fucking confusing because i will want to have sex. i’ll initiate it. and then i can only enjoy it if im not fully present.
i don’t remember when, but we started having intimacy after i took edibles (fully consensual, it was my idea beforehand because i’d hoped it would help me be able to relax and enjoy it without my mind rushing off to bad memories and feelings) … and it worked! but… kinda too well i think? now i feel really gross and bad when we do things and im sober. i’ve been unable to get through intimacy, having to stop halfway through (which then makes me feel guilty as hell and then makes everything worse.)
last night this happened and it sent me into a panic attack that lead to me getting sick and throwing up :P

i was just wondering if anybody has experienced something like this in relationships after experiencing SA … maybe if you’ve overcame it lmk what helped ? or any ideas? idk. i’m getting really tired of it feeling like there’s two sides of my mind that can’t agree on what it wants.

35m, I survived trauma from this really abusive person that was in my life and I'm still dealing with all the things that were said to me like being called crazy. This person would also try to stereotype me and just put me in a box of what they think is best for me. I'm no longer dealing with that person but I'm still dealing with the trauma and the abusive things that were said to me. I spend a lot of time in bed just thinking about the abuse. They would also say things about my weight to hurt me even though I'm at a healthy weight. I'm just wondering like I'm really not stuck like this and I'm really not what my abuser would say to me? People that stereotype don't really define who a person is?

Don't want to go into too many details about my situation here, but I have been through a lot, enough to be diagnosed with PTSD, and I'm also autistic, applying to study medicine in Europe. One of the biggest motivations I have had for undertaking this career is to fight how horribly I have been treated by certain medical professionals throughout my life, and give more of a voice to disabled and traumatized patients. However, I have already been encountering just so many situations, where it's apparent my future colleagues, supervisors, etc, just simply do not understand trauma.

A huge example of this, is trying to push that invasive procedures and examinations should be the standard, just because it is status quo. Something I really want to do is try to encourage accommodations, and changing the way we think about these things. Is something actually required, or are we saying it is due to convenience? As well as giving patients more power to say no, when they feel uncomfortable with something. I have found that a lot of people in the profession do not consider whether a certain intervention will be traumatic for a patient. Traumatized individuals are not invited to participate in many studies, and I find the general understanding of how trauma impacts people differently to be lacking, things are always considered from a "normal, healthy" population level.

I am realizing more and more people have no idea about trauma, or they think certain things aren't traumatizing if a doctor or nurse does them. I'm feeling very discouraged, especially having to open up about my own background to defend my position here. It feels like my view is nowhere near a majority, and I'm questioning my decision to go into this field.

So my boyfriend is significantly older than me, we’ve been together for a few years now, and honestly this has been an ongoing issue in our relationship where he just doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.

He had just came back home yesterday from spending a week out of town and last night he kept begging me to come over even though I told him I was exhausted and didn’t want to have sex because I was in the middle of treating some slight BV.

He kept reassuring me that we didn’t have to do anything and that he just missed me so much and just wanted my company and to cuddle, so eventually I gave in and went over.

Of course, once I was settled in and were cuddling, he starts kissing and touching and eventually asked me to give him head. I reminded him that I said I didn’t wanna do anything, and he said, just for minute, and I did it just so it could satisfy him enough to where he wouldn’t try to fuck me.

And then after a little while of head, he starts asking me multiple times if he can fuck, and I didn’t even say anything. I’m just looking at him with a face that is so deadpan and showing my lack of wanting. Eventually he just asked me to get on the bed.

The sex only lasted for a few minutes, but I literally just laid there with a dead face waiting for it to be over. Wasn’t comfortable or pleasurable, I wasn’t even moaning.

Afterward, I was visibly upset, and he actually acknowledged that he crossed a boundary and apologized. Explaining to me that he originally didn’t plan to have me do anything and that he had already given himself a pep talk about how he was just gonna leave me alone despite how much he missed me and despite how good I looked, blah blah blah.

I’m so lost on where to go from here, but overall I’m just wondering does this count as sexual assault? With the fact that I felt extremely pressured and slightly forced?

My brother was in a bad explosion when he was 13 and I cleaned up a lot of the aftermath….

Took me a year to eat lasagna which was a weekly food at my college I was attending at the time. Skin looks like cheese when I sloughs off the body.

It’s been over 10 years and I’m long past that trigger - for the most part - except a few minutes ago I went to eat a stray piece of cheese that fell off my frozen pizza and onto my plate.

For a split second I’m right back there.

For a split second it’s not cheese I’m about to eat.

I know it’s gruesome, but it’s a hard topic for those around me to hear, and I can’t afford a therapist.

And it doesn’t hit me often if at all anymore, but no matter how much I work through that trauma, it still hurts sometimes.

I’ve struggled with ptsd my entire life. I went through some sexual abuse as a kid, but I remember being a paranoid kid even before that. Life was always unstable for me. My mom kept getting with abusive men, we were homeless a couple times, we’ve had her exes threaten us/stalk us/hurt us/etc etc. I’ve never truly known peace and what it feels like to let your guard down.

Recently, I moved in with my partner and I still find myself struggling with constant paranoia despite being in a safer, controlled environment. They’re so sweet to me and never make me feel unsafe. They work long hours, specifically at night. Nighttime is for sure when I’m more vulnerable. Most traumatic events happened for me late at night.

Whenever he goes to work I have a ritual of turning every single light in the house on, making sure every window and door is locked, curtains closed, phone stays by my side, and anything creating a loud noise is turned off. My brain sees any little noise as a potential threat. I have a compulsive urge to check through holes in the blinds to see if anyone is watching me. My thoughts always snowball. It starts off as an unsuspecting noise and then it turns into me thinking there’s an intruder actively breaking into my home.

Even when my boyfriend is home at night I still find myself getting paranoid, just not as bad. I’ll start drifting to sleep and suddenly bolt up and stare at the bedroom door, trying to notice if it’s moving or opened. I’ll lay in the darkness and listen for any noise my brain deems suspicious. I talk about these thoughts and feelings with my boyfriend, but he doesn’t seem to take it too seriously. He’s not mean about it, but he just tells me it’s fine and that I’m just overthinking. Sometimes he tries to make me laugh by saying we’re safe because he fought off the “boogeymen” before he went to bed. Sometimes this does cheer me up.

I don’t know. I’ve heard that a lot throughout my life. Being told that I’m overthinking and that I’m fine. It’s always in a dismissive tone. And the person usually goes about their day or goes to sleep right after saying so. It doesn’t help me feel better. I feel like it should though. I know you shouldn’t feed into someone’s fears.

I’ve been in and out of therapy almost my whole life. My last therapist was awful and kinda put me off of therapy for a while. But I’m currently trying to apply for different insurance so that I can try to find a new therapist at a new facility. I just hate struggling with constant paranoia and insomnia. I’ve lived with it my whole life. The only time I’ve been able to manage it was when I lived with my family and things were good. It was a full house, there was always someone up making noise. Always a tv playing. Always a light on. It made me feel at least somewhat safe. It’s hard going from that to a home with just me and my partner. I do have my cat and he has a dog. They definitely help some. Just not a lot.

I hope more therapy and medication can help. I’ve only ever tried zoloft. I tried seeing a new psychiatrist at one point and told her I’d try anything but zoloft because every time I take it I just feel bad. It makes me feel empty. I talked for almost a full hour about everything I struggle with. (I also have anxiety and depression, but I don’t struggle with them as bad as the paranoia) And right after I finish talking and tells me she’s just going to put me on zoloft again. I felt so unheard. Never went back there again.

So anyways, thank you for listening to this long winded rant. If you got to the end please tell me some tips and tricks to help manage your ptsd. I’d appreciate the advice :)

Hi everyone,

I recently shared my assault story with my writing class. It was scary but they were all really nice and gave me validation for my experience. I'm just really proud that I did it.

Earlier this year my grandma was murdered in our family home. I was home when it happened, I found her and had to call 911 and my parents and everything. That entire day is permanently burned into my skull and there really isn't a day that goes by that I don't relive the memories at least partially.

I recently got formally diagnosed with PTSD by a psychiatrist. Everything I described to the psychiatrist ticked the qualifications for being diagnosed, and I've had speculation about having it for months. Nobody I knew was surprised by my diagnosis, but the more I think about, it the more invalid I feel.

I feel like I don't deserve to be diagnosed with such a thing. Growing up, I always imagined PTSD as something you got if you were sent off to war or if your parents physically abused you as a child. I've had rocky patches with my parents but nothing violent or abusive, and I've never been to war, so why the hell would I of all people be diagnosed with it? I know that's a ridiculous mindset to have, but I'm just in disbelief about everything that's happened still. I don't know how to process it.

I've been told not to use the diagnosis as an excuse by my dad, which I understand what he means but now when I feel legitimately shitty or depressed or whatever I feel like I'm just making it up. I'm extremely paranoid and depressed, I worry about my safety everywhere I go, I'm constantly on edge—all of this and I still feel like I'm just being dramatic.

I can't even really explain it to anybody else because nobody I know has gone through this experience. Yeah, my family did, but not in the same way as me. Words can't properly express the emotions I felt finding her. I don't even know if she was already dead or not, but that immediately influx of such intense anxiety and panic is something that sticks. The image of her laying face down on her bedroom floor haunts me everywhere I go. Nobody will ever fully understand my perspective.

I think it's partially because I'm still functioning, too. I go to university, I have responsibilities, I study and complete homework find, I can feel happiness and I laugh and I have some decent memories from this past year.

It confuses me having so many feelings at once. I don't want to have PTSD. Who the fuck does. I feel broken and confused and scared and I worry that I'm dangerous because of it. I feel like when I turn 18 everything that I feel will just be further invalidated because I'll be an adult. I fear nobody cares. There's so much shit that I feel it just leaves me exhausted and sad.

At the end of the day, I understand that it is valid and that everything I feel and experience is, too. I just don't know how to start believing that.

Tw: mention of drug use and self harming behaviour

I’ll start off by saying I don’t think I have ptsd and I’m posting here only because I genuinely don’t know where else to ask. I’m sorry if this technically isn’t related but I really need help. I have NPD with borderline traits.

I have always had a weird relationship with sex, I don’t know why. Ever since a young age I was obsessed with it and with the validation that came with sexualising myself. When I had my first experiences in real life, I found out that I felt stuck. It’s like I felt frozen and couldn’t really act the way I wanted to. I felt afraid and no matter how close I was to the other person I couldn’t do anything about it. Afterwards, I would feel this intense, agonising shame for not being able to perform properly.

I lost my virginity a few weeks ago and it’s been killing me. I stayed at a friend’s house and we did stuff. The first time I was on drugs and can’t remember much. Can’t remember much of the second time either. The third time I do remember and it’s been killing me because I had a panic attack during it. My friend stopped and comforted me but the only thing I can think about is how bad my performance was and how awful I feel. Ever since I got back home I keep having flashbacks of the third time. I feel so ashamed and whenever I get these flashbacks I automatically start hitting myself in the head, or I keep repeating “no” or “I don’t want to” instinctively.

How do I deal with the flashbacks? I get them so often it’s genuinely killing me. I just started therapy again with a new therapist but she believes it’s not safe to approach this topic at the moment. She taught me some grounding techniques, which kind of work but they’re not enough.

Something happened a few weeks ago that really triggered a lot of bad feelings. I've been depressed, having SI, and self-harm urges. I'm on prazosin for nightmares, but it's stopped working. I've been having really vivid dreams, nightmares, paralysis, and night terrors where I wake up crying or screaming. I need to sleep with the lights on or I wake up petrified in the dark.

I don't have a lot of friends, or any, besides one. I told him I was struggling, but I sort of regret saying anything. He's been really distant since I said it and honestly it hurts a lot because I've been there for him for months while going through depression and dealing with a lot of life issues.

My family blames me for the nightmares and says it's my fault I'm so stressed. They say I have to "befriend" my nightmares and learn to de-stress when they're the cause of this trigger.

I saw my med management person, hoping she would change my meds because I'm not sleeping well, I'm waking up three or four times a night for hours, unable to go back to sleep, having nightmares and vivid dreams and terrors and paralysis. I'm scared to sleep, and I'm having bad thoughts. She said it was stress related and that changing or adjusting my meds wouldn't help.

I was supposed to have therapy today, but it got canceled. I didn't even know it got canceled. I waited like an idiot on the zoom call for a half hour.

I know its stupid, but I was really hoping to talk and get some sort of support. I feel really alone right now. Everyone thinks I'm overreacting. Maybe I am. It's been weeks of this. I'm behind on my coursework. I have a final this Friday that I can't focus on at all. I don't know what to do.

Everything in this post happened 12-15 years ago. Long story short i honestly don’t like my mom sometimes i fucking hate her. I’m 24M and when I was a kid near 2011-2014 I had a step brother who she very badly abused it makes me so fucking sick now that im grown. I have bad survivors guilt even though I know I was just a little boy and couldn’t do much about it. All this got swept under the rug and she never got charged with anything and no one else even knows what happened except me and my blood brother and step dad (step brothers dad), like literally no one else knows outside that. She tries to pretend like she’s fucking mom of the 21st century when I was bringing up how me and my brothers didn’t have the best child hood and she goes on to say , “you act like you had such a bad childhood.” Like yeah bitch you use to come in in the middle of the night and whoop a kid for nothing, feed him less food than me and my blood brother. Then when my step dad came around she would always act so happy towards my step brother. This shit just eats me up now that im 24, no one knows how much of a fucking monster she was. In those 2011-2014 years I had told my step dad what was going and he didn’t even believe me until afterwards a little bit then shit just hit the fan fast and my step brother moved out with his biological mom.

I’m typing this as im sitting next to her in the car. I don’t even know why I talk to her. I just like seeing the pets at her house. This is just a venting post im sorry if this was a waste of your time I just almost lost control of myself. I just wanna graduate nursing school and get the fuck away from my city.

I live next to a hospital that has a helipad. Last night I was in bed reading and I heard the helicopter take off. That is a very normal thing I'm used to. I noticed that very quickly the helicopter got louder and louder, I could tell it was getting close to my building. I got scared but when I expected that it was going to get some height and finally fly off the noise got louder and I could feel the sound in my chest. At this point I was certain that the helicopter was going to crash into my building and I was actually praying to God. I was absolutely terrified. It had finally got some height and started flying circles before going away but this really shook me.

I feel so dumb for being so scared. Now I'm so jumpy over everything. I couldn't sleep last night because every time I heard a noise like a car outside or something I started to get that panicked feeling again. Then the garbage truck came, something I hear all the time and I started getting scared at every noise it made.

I found out that the pilot of the helicopter momentarily lost control and had a problem getting attitude and that's what the issue was. People are laughing it off like it's no big deal.

I'm not even sure if this counts as PTSD, it's not like it was a huge event or that I got hurt. Maybe it's affecting me cause I'm also autistic and sensitive to loud noises. I can't stop thinking about how I could feel the sound vibration in my chest so I know the helicopter had to have been really close to hitting my building.

Throwaway account for obvious reasons...

I was sexually abused by my own father from the age of five until I was nine, almost every single day..... and guess what!! my mom knewed about it she even blamed me.. remember everything, even the tiniest details. It's something I've carried with me my entire life....

I'm struggling so much with my mental health now, I deal with PTSD and the lasting trauma of sexual abuse. I hate my body, I feel lost, and some days I honestly don't know how I'm supposed to keep living like this.

Despite everything I've been through, I managed to get my university degree. But I live in a very conservative country where I can't just say " I want to move out and start living on my own" I don't even have the financial means to do that right now, so I'm basically stuck in an environment that makes healing even harder.

And the worst part? I still have to see him every day, living his life like nothing ever happened. He's happy. He laughs. He goes on with his life, completely unaffected, while I'm left trying to put myself back together after what he did to me. Even the sound of his laughter makes me feel sick with anger.

Lately, I've been having thoughts about making him afraid, making him suffer, and somehow making him feel even a fraction of the pain I've lived with for years. I hate that these thoughts are even in my head, and I don't want to become someone who hurts another person.

I don't want to have these thoughts. I don't want revenge to consume me. What kills me inside is the question I can't stop asking myself: Why am I the one who has to suffer every single day because of what happened, while he's the one who gets to live his life in peace and happiness, as if he did absolutely nothing wrong? Why do I have to live with the consequences of his actions while he gets to walk away from them?

I don't know how to come to terms with that. I just needed to get this off my chest.....

thank u

Hello all, I saw someone else post a poem on here and thought this would be an appropriate subreddit for this topic. It's more of a confessional or stream of consciousness that I really just need to get out of my head. Please feel free to comment; I hope this can make someone feel less alone.

Ever since I was raped I’ve been fucking the ugliest guys.
Men repulse me and the men I fuck repulse me even more.
It feels good to degrade myself now.
It feels good to do things I know will disgust me later.
It feels good to let them use me, and I do let them use me.
It's so hard to feel like a person 
that deserves good and loving sex.
I find myself catching their stares in my day-to-day, the ugly men,
My first impulse isn’t to look away 
it's to take off my clothes.
I want to choke on their cocks like a gun.
I want to lose my name
the little girl I shared it with doesn’t deserve this, I do.
I’m not who I was, I am something else. 

It reminds me of when I was in seventh grade,
And added men on snapchat and sent them photos 
Of my tits and ass and pussy.
People who I had never met
told me I was way too developed for thirteen.
It's always been this way.

When I was in fourth grade I was molested by
My childhood friend who was two years older.
I still feel empathy for her,
She was a kid too,
She probably didn't know how bad it actually was.
Someone taught her how to do it.
I made myself sick with guilt thinking
That I had lost my virginity at ten years old.
I hadn’t though. 

Things I had forgotten about for so long.
I wonder,
If I smoke enough weed can I forget it all?

My trauma occurred over 8 years ago, on my birthday. Since then I’ve been unable to let go of the memories or even open up about it. I just gained to courage to tell my therapist a couple of weeks ago because I’ve been scared of judgement and dismissal. She assured me that it wasn’t my fault, and I’ve come to accept the fact that I have PTSD. It’s gotten easier and I don’t have horrible nightmares every night anymore, but the vivid memories play on repeat in my head every single day.
I’m in line to start group therapy, but I feel like this has ruined me forever and will never get better.

I am old, and have been back in school for about a year. The VA is trying to make me “employment ready” because the Army disabled me, essentially.

Last week - instead of saying something diplomatic to a professor in a lecture I simply said “that’s not true” (which it wasn’t, but I still should have been diplomatic) in response to something he said. The professor snapped at me: used a sharp tone, slightly raised voice, and didn’t stop when I apologized.

This caused a panic attack while the rest of the class finished. Professor tried to stop me to speak to me - I ended up emailing him saying that I wouldn’t speak in his class again without being called on directly, he responded apologizing.

However, now I am really disengaged not only with that class, but also the rest of school. I fell about a week behind (which sounds like a small amount but when you’re disabled it’s hard to catch back up.

I’m using mindfulness, and willingness and half smile/willing hands to try to re-engage.

My advice request is 2 part:

1. Does anyone have other tips or tricks for re-engaging with the place a triggering event has happened? I just want to avoid it all, but that’s not helpful

2. What do I do or say to the Professor? He kinda cornered me Monday - and while the conversation was apologetic and not angry/mean - my anxiety wanted to chew thru the desk and flee the room.

Context for this part: he has made statements in class that make me think he doesn’t believe anxiety can be debilitating (it’s an economics class and we just covered fiscal policy - he thinks England is in financial trouble because teachers are on disability for anxiety)

I was touched and followed home before I could tie my shoes. I was too little to understand what happened. I built such a great relationship with my therapist, and she helped me process my emotions.

I revealed to her that I was groped, and a few years later followed home by a group of high school boys when I was in middle school. Now, I’m wondering if the man in the orchestra of the church, had ill intent when he kissed my cheek after it was revealed he was touching young girls and taking advantage of them.

I told my mom about the groping and being followed home, and she didn’t believe me. I have a stalker back home, he waits for me at my doorsteps almost every morning before I go out to walk my dog. And she tells me to just shoo him off, and become angry when I call the police on him.

I remember crying so much when I was little, and her solution, along with my father, was to beat me. I remember she stomped on my face, and when I bring it up she tells me I’m lying.

But I’m not lying.

I got r worded and otherwise SAd by a friend multiple times and had a fawning/appease reaction to it.

(Im not even out of this relationship with this friend, and its ongoing. I have complicated feelings towards her, since her reasoning for it is to protect our friendship. Im unhealthily attached to her, and losing her is one of my biggest fears. She knows that losing closeness feels unbearable to me, and so she can ensure to stay close to me, she rapes me. I know how shitty that sounds, but thats the reality I and her live in.)

so I have a girlfriend. She is amazing, but I find myself falling back into patterns that seem unhealthy with her too. We live in a long term relationship, and over the phone, sexual encounters went pretty well. I was able to say when I didn't feel like doing things, and it was all consensual and actually pretty fun. But the patterns im describing first appeared when we had our first real life sexual encounter. I noticed myself slipping back into patterns of pushing through discomfort to please her, even at my own expense. IMPORTANT: that is only on me, not on her. She asks if im okay, checks up on me. Its consensual and genuinely a safe environment, and one I can find pleasure myself, but I just still fall back into patterns of pushing through discomfort to please her, even at my own expense.

Now, to my question: What can I do to have safe sex again? I wanna be able to have consensual sexual encounters without falling into patterns of pushing through my own discomfort. Its just difficult to "just do it" in the moment, so im asking if any of you had that same problem and know what I can do. Thanks.

I've known for a long time that I have PTSD relating to several different (but equally traumatic) experiences I had throughout my childhood/adolescence, but until now I struggled to understand what a "flashback" actually was. I always thought it was similar to vividly hallucinating that you were going through your trauma again, visuals and all. And perhaps some people do have flashbacks like that. But it made me feel a little lonely or weird that, even though I'd had panic attacks that were triggered by sensations and thoughts related to my trauma, I didn't feel like I could call them "flashbacks."

Except I'm 99% sure I had a flashback just now. To make a long story short, I'm a survivor of COCSA by a female perpetrator. It's a pretty isolating existence, even with increasing advocacy for SA survivors. What with the cases being brought up in the news and reactions to them going viral, I've seen a lot of online videos about SA recently. One video really upset me, as it was titled "Not all men, but always a man" and the uploader claimed to be speaking out for all victims. Obviously the phrase is incredibly hurtful to hear as a survivor of someone who was decidedly not a man. Seeing stuff like that out in the wild, on top of having so-called activists immediately bring up statistics of male vs. female abusers any time you dare to ask that maybe one of these days victims of female perpetrators could possibly be taken seriously in spaces dedicated to survivors sharing their own experiences... it's distressing. I started writing a comment to say as much when I felt this overwhelming sense of dread. I was suddenly numb to everything else but the fear, and in my head I kept repeating the words "I'M SCARED, I'M SCARED, I'M SO SCARED."

I cried for a good 5 minutes (felt way longer), straight up heaving sobs like a little kid, snot running down my face. The most terrifying part was that when I looked around (like I usually do during panic attacks, trying to find something to ground me), even though the image of everything was clear, none of it felt real. It was like I was looking at it through a window, I couldn't touch anything or focus on it too long. My body and my brain just kept returning to the fear, and the sense that I was completely alone... nobody was coming to rescue me. It's exactly how I felt when my abuse was actively happening. Once I'd finally calmed down, I looked up what flashbacks actually feel like because I was SURE that must have been one. If I experienced a response like this to a trigger before, I certainly don't remember it. It was a very scary and unfamiliar feeling.

Gotta love experiencing these things at the most inconvenient times too.... Like come on brain, I've got an 8:00 AM class tomorrow, I can't afford to be losing sleep over this.

not entirely sure how to phrase this, but i'm curious about how other people process, or really "consider" their traumatic events passively. i guess my final question will be at the end of the post when i figure out how to word it.

spoiler ahead for my past, details mostly left out but phrases describing what i faced will be behind it. abusive family, physically and emotionally, cocsa at 5, i feel like there was something else happening but cannot remember a majority of my life, and then as a freshman i was heavily abused in every manner possible in highschool by a senior who used a few torture techniques on me. one of my best friends then died just after highschool. as an adult i then learned a lot of my health issues as a child were from a congenital condition/disability that might have been manageable with the right help, but due to medical neglect and abuse, was missed, and i became disabled in my early 20s.

needless to say, life has not been a walk in the park. if you can guess, yes i grew up in the boonies. i miss my hometown bad but growing up there with my family was hell. but here's the thing -- the 2 worst things to happen to me, the familial abuse and the highschool abuse, just don't really register in my head as traumatizing. i get slightly uncomfortable thinking about it, but in my mind, i have a good relationship with my parents now. that guy who hurt me in highschool is a nobody that can't keep friends or a partner, thank god. but i KNOW i'm traumatized. allllll my nightmares stem from those two incidents first, and the rest second. i feel like i need to process my emotions behind these two things. the issue is that... these things lasted my whole life. i didn't stop being abused until i was a teenager, and it wasnt a full stop, it kinda Mostly stopped with some extra emotional turmoil. the highschool thing was a direct result of my home life and lasted 9 months during which i didn't get much sleep, maybe 2 hours a night or so, due to the dude in highschool purposefully keeping me up all night. between those 2 things, i didn't get a break til 17.

i just don't understand how i can look at my trauma, or even talk about it, flatly. i just woke up from an 11 hour nightmare parade (i'm not kidding, i'd wake up between each one in a cold sweat), and i want to cry. i want to release the pain i feel, so i think about the past trying to connect the dots between how i felt in dream, how i felt after, and then when i try to connect it to what happened... nothing. i just don't care. even thinking about the worst events of those barely get a reaction. i don't get it. i feel like an utter freak having all the ptsd reactions but not being able to just fucking cry about what happened. i feel like a pressurized bottle i am DESPERATELY popping the cap on, only to find that it is covered inside by a layer of thick, resilient membrane that won't let anything out.

does anyone else feel like they have a big, thick, soundproof wall between them and getting to the heart of their trauma?? what do you do? how can i grieve if i can't even access the grief?

A week ago, I estranged my abusive father. Blocked him on everything, including socials and phone, sent him an email stating my intentions and why (his abuse resulted in my PTSD diagnosis, and I couldn't get past that) and he's gone.

I've told a few friends of mine, but no one has followed up with me about it. They're not shit friends or anything, they live their own lives and just don't entirely understand my struggle. But thats okay, they're good friends in spite of that.

The past week and a bit since I cut him off have felt isolating, and its been hard because I've functionally lost my father, but I take solace in the fact that 1. I had the bravery to finally protect my piece and estrange him, and 2. I have the rest of my life to sort through the aftermath and make a good life for myself.

I’m so sick of not being able to sleep, every night I stay up thinking about the future, mapping out exactly how conversations and times spend with ppl is gonna go, maybe to feel prepared for what could happen? I think about the past, searching for anything I might have missed, trying to remember all the details in case I need them in the future to defend myself or protect myself(my abuser tends to lie so knowing the exact truth always helped) putting all the pieces together, trying to see how it’ll shape my future even tho that future can’t exist anymore, even tho I’m safe now, I can’t seem to shut off survival mode, even when I do sleep it doesn’t last because my nightmares wake me up throughout the night, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to let go of the past, or stop being afraid of the future, but ig that’s just to be expected with PTSD right? It is a disorder afterall, one I don’t know how to fix

If anyone has any advice on how to get their brain to shut up enough to sleep I would really appreciate it, meds don’t do anything, just make me feel tired but not able to sleep still, I wish I wasn’t broken, I wish my abuser hadn’t broken my brain like this, I wish I could go back, I miss being happy, I miss being able to sleep, I’ve always had trouble with it, but this is on another level, I wish I could go back to when things were good, when my abuser tricked me into thinking things were good enough for me to actually feel some semblance of fake safety, atleast enough for me to fall asleep in their arms, if only it were real, if only it could have lasted for real, but now I’m all alone, all alone in the wreckage they’ve done to my mind, I poured all my love into them, and all I got back was pain, the love they gave me was just lies, that’s why it never lasted, that’s why they abused me so severely and then moved on like it was nothing, because it’s nothing to them, it doesn’t affect them, so why should they care? I’m the one who has to carry this burden of what they’ve done to me all by myself, and that’s not fair, why am I the one who has to continue to suffer because of what they’ve done to me, it’s not fair