My personal Experience with PTSD and DID
(Trigger warning, ptsd, trauma)
I guess I just wanted to share a little bit of my own experience especially with DID and PTSD.
I think like a lot of others I’ve kind of gotten used to keeping all of this quiet, people teach you that sharing your pain means you’re weak. So I never share.
But I think I should start sharing more, because then maybe the more I share others will want to share as well or feel more confident.
I’m not really sure where to begin with all of this.
Well, i suppose I’ve always struggled, but I didn’t face it or realise it until I was 15.
All of the things before it were kind of just put down to ‘she’s different.’
Seizures or ptsd episodes were just put down to ‘she’s wanting attention.’
The doctors didn’t really know what to do with me, I was an ‘interesting’ case.
So, instead of helping me further they put a 15 year old girl onto 100mg of sedatives every night until I became so numb that I just stopped talking. I suppose then I wouldn’t bother anyone.
Because of the high dosage I don’t remember much of those times.
They put me on so many different pills and treatments that me and the entire system just switched off.
I remember small details, having outbursts and being on even more medication.
Or the side effects, I mean at one point I was on a treatment that made me lactate. Yes, a 17 year old girl with a body ready for a child. The medication literally made my body prepare for a child.
And if that isn’t fucked up idk what is.
Anyway that’s just some background pieces. When I began getting actual help the professionals were confused to say the least.
From every point of view I had a normal childhood, of course I had the normal trials and everything. But the doctors were confused because I had complex ptsd with ‘no trauma.’
My level of ptsd was the same as someone who had gone through years of sex trafficking. They’re not the only ones confused either because I honestly don’t know what happened. A lot of my childhood was wiped from my mind, but I don’t understand how so many people can say i had a happy childhood yet I’m left like this. Having flashbacks of horrible things, screaming in my sleep at night and having panic attacks in the grocery store.
It’s been hard, it’s been really fucking hard.
But I don’t get to say that, I don’t get to cry, I don’t get to scream.
I have seizures, I have nerve pain, I get terrible headaches, I have times where I forget everything even my own name or my own family, I get nightmares nearly every night, i get really strong deja Vu every single day, of course it’s a struggle having DID as well, the constant switching and voices can be overwhelming.
I just want to scream, i want to show people how much I’m hurting, but I can’t.
Because all of this is ‘in my head’ people don’t believe it hurts.
Life has been hard, it has been so hard and difficult but I’m not allowed to say that because other people have it worse and at least I have a home and food.
That’s a bullshit argument, having a home or food doesn’t stop the pain, it doesn’t stop the crying and the screaming.
Every job I’ve had has been terrible, the coworkers treat me terribly because I’m different. The job I have now is a little better but people still don’t understand any of it. I don’t expect them to.
There’s been times where I lose the ability to speak, I don’t know if many of you have been through that but god it’s scary and no one cares. My family just said ‘it’s just because of your anxiety’ even if it was that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
I’m just tired of suffering, I’m tired of having to be silent.
I’ve been through so much and it isn’t fair, none of this is fucking fair.
And I still have no idea why I’m like this or what happened.
I just want a break, and i want some peace. But life isn’t fair, at least not for me.
Why does everyone get to have a life, why was I born and instantly my life was a trial? I don’t understand it one bit, apparently I did something absolutely awful and all of this is punishment.
Obviously there’s a lot more than just that stuff but that’s all I can do for tonight cause I’m already close to passing out from that.
And if you made it to the end holy shit.
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2:46am:
i own an empty room i dreamed of painting in the most colorful shade of green. but i noticed myself walking away with my careful footsteps in a cricking wooden floor. i, slowly descending on my way to a million miles of distance from where the room is existing, not knowing where to go, lost in a vast ocean with nothing but my own two exhausted naked feet,
i, sunk into thousands of feet below, unhurriedly being stretched in an unbearable amount of pressure.
i, bit by bit, failing to recall what i want to paint that room i used to have as i sunk deeper,
i, failing to remember what color looks like
i, sunk deep and only see pitch-black
i, only see pitch-black...
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