Complex PTSD. Well that sucks balls. I swear a lot in this. Don’t care, either.

I’m trying to find some information to give to Sid, to my family, to help me explain .. me.

Words from my own mouth have never been able to do it. I trip and stumble on them because I can’t ever define what I feel or explain where it comes from. Once I start to, it’s like it turns into a giant cloud of explanation, and it starts to suffocate me, and my brain goes “fuck it. forget it. don’t worry, this is so fucking confusing you don’t even know what you’re talking about. Literally – what was the fucking question?”

I had my psych appointment on Wednesday.

C-PTSD, not PTSD.

The difference being prolonged exposure to trauma where I felt I couldn’t escape, as well as additional trauma created by decisions I made while affected by the initial trauma.

I’ve been online, trying to find a PTSD Specialist to start seeing, because during my psych appointment – my first in a year, and the first since I actually accepted her diagnosis – she said “Ok, excellent. So what do you need from me?”

Lady, are you kidding me? I need ONE medical profession in my lifetime to NOT make me tell them what I need – I don’t fucking know what I need, that’s why I’m here to see you! You’re the goddamn expert on this shit. I’m the one who can’t trust her brainfeels and is really fucking shit at making the right decisions for herself.

So I’m looking for an expert, most likely in Sydney, where I can hopefully attend monthly or fortnightly clinics on my RDOs.

In my research, I came across this page – Out of the Fog – a website for carers of people with mental illness, particularly personality disorders.

It’s been a really big few months for me – all this self-awareness that I’ve been having, after years of WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!? It’s exciting, and exhausting, and terrifying… and seeing myself described so goddamn accurately – for the first time in my whole life, reduced me to tears.

Sad tears, happy tears, thankful tears.

I’m sad that I’m so ruined for human interaction. Mostly sad that I hated myself for things I didn’t understand about myself.. and they weren’t my fault.
I’m relieved that it’s not because I’m a monster.. not naturally, anyway.
I’m happy that there – in black and white – is a description of the turmoil that goes on inside me – the shit I’ve never been able to put into actual explainy words – A way for my close ones to see that I can’t help it – I don’t mean it – I love you, I just go away in my head sometimes and sometimes I have no feelings at all about you.

Because the only thing that is important is the emotion I am experiencing right the fuck now. Not that I know what it is. I just feel – a thing, and your presence is annoying at the moment for some unidentifiable reason.

but in 5 minutes, just wait – i’ll be in there with my arms around you and a big kiss on your face.

http://outofthefog.net/CommonNonBehaviors/CPTSD.html

The worst part of all this is seeing the damage that my own behaviour – which I didn’t understand and couldn’t control – has done to others. The very same behaviours that I was exposed to for years as a child, I have exhibited in my relationships.

I’m sad about that – but now I understand it. There’s a name for all this shit that I do – all these things people hate about me.

Because I didn’t know why I did it – I just knew that it bothered people and they were tired of me, and I was a burden – and they will say that I’m not, but rolled eyes, audible sighs, the ‘here we go again’ – you’re not subtle guys… I understand because I actually annoy myself, yet I can’t stop myself.

So this is why I need someone who can help me undo this. It can be done – this is one of those personality disorders that can be somewhat cured, or at least.. managed – with an absolute shitload of therapy. So why the fuck does my psych ask me what I need from her?

Guidance, answers, help to STOP harming the people I love with the effects of shit that isn’t even their baggage to deal with. It isn’t enough that I recognise the source of some of the feelings I have. It’s cool and all, but I need real help undoing this shit.

I don’t want to be this person. And I have no idea how to stop doing things that are in-built reactions. Compulsive responses to .. who the fuck knows! I do shit I don’t understand, it hurts people – then it hurts me – and then I resent those people I hurt because I didn’t mean to hurt them and they are angry with me.

And now I’m angry that for 22 years I’ve had a stranger inside my head, pulling the strings, pressing buttons that I was unaware of, forcing me to try and explain why I did or said things that I didn’t really do or say. It’s kind of like being drunk. I can’t explain it/don’t entirely remember it, but if you say I did it, I did.

No, I have no idea why. I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t help you. And now I’m angry, so go away. I don’t care about your feelings. I will later, but not now – mine are too big for yours to exist.

ugh. it’s ugly. selfish. i am a horrible, horrible person. stopping this behaviour isn’t a matter of deciding that i want to be different. I do want to be different – I always have – I just have no fucking idea how.

Um, clearly I need to see someone about this. And although this is basically me just brainspewing all over this blog, I don’t give a shit and I’m leaving it here.

Not quality writing – so apologies for that – but fuck it… this is the closest I’ve come to being able to explain my feels, so it’s staying.

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8 thoughts on “Complex PTSD. Well that sucks balls. I swear a lot in this. Don’t care, either.

  1. “I don’t care about your feelings. I will later, but not now – mine are too big for yours to exist.”
    i know this. I know this very well. I’m cloaked by it currently, and I don’t care. I don’t care that someone else is being effected by it, because I’m effected by it and I have to deal with myself first.
    your words write close to my heart, my brain, my big-ball of “whatever!” that spews out of my eyes because others and their expecting eyes just make it harder to climb this hurdle..
    xx

    • the expectations of others definitely make it difficult for me to work through all this… but… being able to share my life, meaningfully, EQUALLY, with another person is the entire reason I want to “get better”.

      I could go away.. to a clinic.. lock myself up and get all the help I need. But what happens when I return to other people?

      I’m going to try to work through this, whilst still maintaining my connection to the world – my family, colleagues, friends.. to do that, I just need to go against every single instinct that I have.

      Don’t run – Stay. Trust… and tear down some of those walls. Be honest instead of trying to make everyone happy.

      and be prepared to lose people. I’m going to change. People won’t like who I become. Not everyone, anyway… and that’s actually ok – they are not that bully, or those exes – that’s all over now.

      Now that I’m aware of the impact that me as a person has on people I’m closest to, I can’t just ignore that and say “well it’s because of this PTSD”.

      It is because of that. It is. And I don’t do any of it deliberately.

      That doesn’t make it okay, though, nor does it give me the right to continue to allow it to happen if I have the choice to do something about it.

      I’ve got a total dick of a long road ahead, and I’m gonna come apart at the seams over and over. But fuck.. who cares?? That’s better than following this same rutted path that I’ve been on my whole life and continuing to allow the past to rule my present and my future.

      Fuck that. Now that I know what’s wrong with me, I’m gonna be okay. I firmly believe this.

      I just need help getting there, and I need help explaining it to the people who are worth fighting for.

  2. I know exactly what your saying. So hard to stop the triggers. I’ve rewired my brain. It’s taken years but can be done, a manual process of rational thought, a number of checks to go through to determine if I’m responding emotionally or rationally. People don’t realize sorting your head out after abuse is like a full time job, with no holidays or weekends off, our fucking career. And yes people think we hurt them cos we have a choice, we don’t choose to be abused, to live a life of pain and fear, chaos and confusion, no one would choose that. Your clearly a fighter 🙂

  3. I’m so happy this has happened sweetheart. And I’m so bloody proud of you for acknowledging it and seeking help. You know I’m always here whenever you want to spew words from your mouth/fingers, we’ve always had that sound board type relationship with each other. I hope you find a specialist who can really help (and doesn’t ask you to do their fucking job for them. *shakes fist*) xoxox

  4. I have bipolar, obsessive compulsive and paranoid personality disorders. I’ve been on medication for the past twenty-five years. I know what you mean when your say:

    “Because I didn’t know why I did it – I just knew that it bothered people and they were tired of me, and I was a burden … I understand because I actually annoy myself, yet I can’t stop myself.”

    I have lost many relationships because I did or said things that I knew would hurt people. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop. I’ve been suicidal. I don’t know why I’m still alive, but here I am. I’ve learned that things don’t necessarily get better, but they get different. That’s a positive step.

    Take care, you’re not alone in your feelings. ~ Dennis

    • Thanks Dennis,

      I’ll settle for things getting different, as long as they change a little!

      It’s good to know there are others ahead of me on this path and you’re still willing to keep treading it.

      Thanks so much for your comment, and for your blog.

      Joy and the gang really have become part of my world, and I think the gap you are bridging with your writing in their voices, is a very important one to be bridging.

      Thank you again for being that person.

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