ptsd
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; The storm after the storm.
PTSD
The truth about PTSD! I suppose I best start with a short introduction. My name is Sam and I served in the British armed forces from 1995 until 2013. During that time I had served in Africa, Iraq, Kosovo, Bosnia and a few other locations. So let's begin to talk about that dirty thing known as PTSD. Firstly, it's not something you should be ashamed of. It's completely normal to be the way you are. It's the brains way of somehow coping with trauma, the problem is, is that it changes you, the sufferer, in more ways than you can imagine. For some it starts with resentment or bitterness towards others. For others it could be small lies, or the odd shouting for the smallest thing. I found that I started to lose my temper very easily, I would go mad sometimes thinking about wanting to hurt someone. This then became more and more gradual. My hatred became so bad that I struggled being around almost anybody. Then, other things started happening to me, I was lying all the time; to friends, family and co-workers, it got to the point where even I didn't know the difference between what was the truth and what was a lie. After this the next stage was being mischievous, I mean..... I was taking out bank loans and credit cards that I didn't even need and funny enough the debts started building up fast. People really started to notice a bad change in not only my personality but also in my appearance. I didn't shave, my eyes where dark and sunken, I trembled with either fear or anger. All I ever thought was there was danger just around the corner and I had to be ready at all times no matter what. Every one was my enemy and as such, I had to protect myself at any cost including taking someone's life. Shortly after, I started to notice the change in myself and that's when I started to feel sorry for myself. I mean, between the nightmares, flashbacks and all the other stuff, it just got way, way, way too much. This continued for months and that's when I distanced myself from everyone even those who cared and loved me. You see, what PTSD really does is it wants to get you all alone, it wants YOU! All to itself. It wants you to get rid of all and any help out there so that your so low and I mean low, like way below the bottom of a barrel low. The drinking starts, and gets worse and worse and the moods really get bad. That's when the thoughts in your head start, that little voice starts whispering the unthinkable. Suicide, it wants YOU to pick up the gun or grab the razor blade or find that high bridge or get the whiskey and tablets and just end it all now. You sit there thinking about how you've hurt everyone around you, how no one can bear being anywhere near you. It's doing this over and over and over until finally, the band just snaps and you do it. You just end it there andtThen, you believe that everyone will be so much better with you gone. The actual fact is, this is far from the truth. WHAT you've done is you've just hurt everyone far more than you could possibly imagine. So, how do you stop it? When is it time to say I need help, and I need help now. For me, I asked for help when I failed to take my own life, for others it was when they noticed a change in themselves. But we're all different and to be honest it's not where or when but it's the fact that you need to accept the illness and you need to reach out and get the help you need asap. Treat it as if your life depends upon it because the reality is, it does! When I started getting help, the first thing we did was behavioural therapy helping me to be around people again without wanting to harm them. Once I had received this treatment for eight months, I started to feel much better. I could actually be around people again and I even started to smile again. This is when we also talked about the nightmares and the flashbacks. The treatment was called EMDR. Using sound and eye movement, your focused on the images that come into your head and with the therapy after some time, these memories and images disappear. The nightmares and the flashbacks disappear, but there's a side effect. Memory loss! For me, I lost almost two years of my memory. It was all a complete blank, and depending on the person, this can take years to get back. But no matter what happens, you have to realise that having done all this, you really are on the mend. And with that, you can start with fighting to gaining your life back. The people that care about you will see the difference in time and people will start to have trust in you in good time. You just have to remember that it's down to YOU! You need to be the one to realise that YOU need the help and only YOU can reach out and ask for it. When you do this, then the rest is history and the new beginning of your life will start. I wish you all the very best and hope that some of this is of some help to someone out there. Even if this is able to save one life, then I've done some good. And that's good enough for me. Take care people and all the very best.
By Sammy Freeman8 years ago in Psyche
Past to Present
One day there was a girl who thought she put her past behind her and moved forward. Until one day everything changed. Twenty-seven year old Nicole graduated from college. She earned her undergraduate degree and her doctorate in psychology. She wanted to become a therapist for kids. She had a life connection of growing up with no parents. She spent seven years in college and Nicole was positive that this is what she wanted to be. She wanted to help kids that didn't have parents.
By Cade Bowen8 years ago in Psyche
Sixteen and Diagnosed With PTSD
Personally, whenever I hear someone say "PTSD," my mind immediately thinks of the courageous men and women who have served the country, or at least I used, too. Don't get me wrong, I still associate it with war. I'm very grateful for those who are serving or have served our country and I have much sympathy for them, but I guess I just have more of an understanding ever since my diagnoses.
By Jen Craveiro8 years ago in Psyche
Abusive Parents
I have been living with my abusive parents for 19 years. My father walked out when I was born so I lived with my mother and my grandmother. It all started when I was walking my grandmother would beat me with whatever she could get her hands on. After I turned about 10 my grandmother started calling me names like cow hippo and other weight related hurtful names. She still would hit me with whatever she could get her hands on. Then when I turned about 13, she came at me with an aluminum baseball bat. Dealing with this abuse for so long it has messed me up pretty bad. I have major trust issues, I have PTSD and flashbacks. They mostly occur when someone is yelling at me or they raise their fists. I can not have a normal life because of it. I’ve been hit with just about everything. I’ve had whelps and bruises everywhere. I had to cover them up so no one would get suspicious.
By Maria Johnson8 years ago in Psyche
When I Figured out What It's Called
I've never been a brave person. As a small child I was terrified of the dark. I'm told that's normal. As I grew into a teenager and young adult, I hit a growth spurt. I was 17 years old and 6'2" tall. I had the weight to match and not a whole lot of enemies either. My best friends protectors, I never saw what happened coming. Now, being as large as I am, you can imagine I'm not a fan of small spaces or not being able to move. You'd be right. When I was 16, I discovered I have a huge phobia of being restrained or unable to defend myself. My senior year of high school I had kind of let this fear get out of hand. I'd have bad dreams, be unable to watch horror movies, etc. Again, I'm not a brave person. I confided in my best friend, who we'll call Emily, and she tried to help me deal with it. Little did I know? She'd gone to our other best friend, we'll call her Lucy...and the two of them dragged my third best friend, Mary, into their plan to get me for April Fools. April Fools came and went though and nothing happened...three days later I was on my lunch period and went to meet them at our usual spot. An empty classroom. I got there first, set my stuff down and waited. Now this was 2008, so smartphones and texting/Facebook were not the thing. When they arrived...I could immediately tell something wasn't right. There were two doors in/out of this classroom, both of which they blocked. Lucy at one, Mary at the other. Emily had stepped towards me, and in her hands? A roll of duct tape...Now that set me on edge, so I stood up. "What are you doing with that?" I'd asked trying to not sound afraid. "Oh this? Nothing, just spinning it around see?" She replied putting it down. Meanwhile, Lucy and Mary had moved closer. So the three of them had encircled me. Now, this was a physics teacher's classroom so it was honestly no big deal that there was rope on the back counter. Emily grabbed it. Before I knew what was happening, they'd backed me into the other corner. Lucy grabbed one arm, Mary the other. Emily had managed to tie my legs together now. I began to struggle against them but had a hard time balancing. They drove me spine first into the sharp edge of a table and now I was on my back unable to move. Both arms pinned down, legs tied together, and they weren't done yet. Lucy switched places with Emily who'd been holding down my left arm. Lucy was now standing over me, Duct tape in hand. "Guys we need to hold her down better and shut her up so no one downstairs hears her!" Lucy laughed. So did the other two. I however was not laughing. Lucy began to play with the tape. Ripping it off the roll over and over. Finally, she ripped off a giant piece and I had this sinking sick feeling wash over me...I began struggling again. Begging and pleading with them. "Come on guys this isn't funny. Please you're hurting me! Let me go come on!" I was on the verge of crying. I could hear the panic in my voice. "Enough. Shut up, we don't want to hear your whining!" Lucy shouted at me. And her face made me shiver. She then attempted to tape my mouth shut but I moved and she punched me in the face. Ever been punched in the face? It sends this shockwave through you. But it worked. I had been subdued and Lucy was able to put the tape over my mouth. So now I was completely helpless. Voiceless too. They were all laughing while I was crying and bleeding. It set off this indescribable fire in me. Suddenly, one of our younger friends came in and said "Hey! What the hell is going on?!" I dug my fingernails into Mary's hand, drawing blood and she released my right arm. She took off running. I now had a free hand. Lucy fled, a look of "Oh crap" on her face. Emily, however, was still latched onto my left forearm. She's 5'6" and 90 pounds soaking wet. But she'd been hanging off the table, nearly pulling my shoulder out of it's socket. I started beating on her and finally she let go and ran out of the room. The younger friend began playing 20 questions with me. I was freaking out! I was shaking so bad I could not untie my legs. So she helped. The second I was free I took off after those three bitches. They ended up back upstairs. They claimed they were not aware of my phobia and it was a joke. I was covered in bruises. Had a bloody nose, and was trembling uncontrollably. The rest of my senior year I suffered from intense nightmares. Vivid dreams that would rip me from a dead sleep. At the young age of 17? No, I did not tell the principal. Because I didn't want my "best friends" in trouble. I also had no idea that it would be affecting me ten years later.
By Aimee Brown8 years ago in Psyche
PTSD
I am going to start by telling you my story is a little harsh. My story starts with me being friends with my ex, still talking and being friendly with him, still hanging out with him and our friends. To this day, I still ask myself why I was still friends with him, but each time I ask myself I never get an answer. But this story takes a turn for the worst. My ex called me one day over the summer and asked if I would meet him and some of our friends at an abandoned house to drink and get high. I agreed and went to the house, but when I got there it was just him. I asked him where everyone else was and he told me they were on their way. I believed him and we sat and drank waiting for the rest of our friends to show up. When it started getting dark I told my ex that I had to go, but here is where it turns dark. My ex grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down to the ground. He got on top of me and ripped open my shirt and pulled down my shorts and underwear. He pinned my arms above my head and shoved his penis inside of me, hard. He continued until he finished he then got up and threw my clothes at me. He left, and I sat and cried for what felt like forever, but I eventually got up and left. After that, I had to see him at school for the next two years of high school. I never went to the police, mostly because I was scared that it might go to court. But from that day on I have never been the same; I have nightmares, night sweats, and night terrors. I am currently in a relationship and am trying to move forward, but it is very hard. My current boyfriend is very understanding and is there for me when I really need him. I have never seen a therapist or a counselor for this, even though it would help. Being able to get this out to maybe help others feels good. I now know that instead of being scared I should have gone to the police. I shouldn’t have let him get away with want he did to me. PTSD is what I live with now; it is hard to live with, but I push through each day. I also have bad depression, and that makes it a lot harder, but I keep pushing through. My story may not be what people first think of when they hear PTSD, but my story has left me with pretty bad PTSD. And it has taken a big toll on my life, and my relationship. My ex still thinks he did nothing to me, but what he did has turned my life upside down and I can’t get that day out of my head. My ex has a life of his own, a beautiful girlfriend, a good job, and his own place, but with what he did to me I have nightmares, night terrors, and night sweats. My life is so much harder because of what he did to me. My relationship even suffers sometimes because of what he did to me. And if anyone takes anything from this, I hope it is not to be scared when someone hurts you, and to go straight to the cops and let them put the person that hurt you behind bars.
By Bianca Johnson8 years ago in Psyche
Tips for Coping with PTSD
I want to start by saying that PTSD by definition is a condition that is diagnosed to those who have either witnessed a traumatic or have experienced a traumatic event in their lives. For instance and I am going to be completely honest by saying this, I have been molested as a child and raped as an adult. I found my boyfriend dead on our bathroom floor when I was 19. At one point when I was in my early twenties, I was homeless and I saw a lot… that is when the rape occurred. Back then I was lost as well as broken. A broken empty shell of a person that jumped from one abusive relationship to another. The last abusive relationship damn near killed me, literally. There was one night I can remember even praying for death because the pain was just too much to bear. After I finally was able to leave I found myself at a shelter for the battered and abused women. It was then that I began therapy, started college, moved into my apartment, and was diagnosed with PTSD. I still struggle with the anxiety, nightmares, and depression. So I know what it is like and I am here to help with coping mechanisms.
By Alyssa Horn8 years ago in Psyche
Mental Illness: The Demons Within
The next illness on the list is PTSD, also known as: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I wasn’t diagnosed with this until I was hospitalized on 5 North (the psychiatric ward of the hospital) but I believe it’s something I have had long before I was in the hospital.
By Alyssa Lactin8 years ago in Psyche
