Ptsd @ MindSay



 

   
His Voice

his voice is the only thing in this world that can make my blood run cold.  it's 2:30 in the morning and i should be sleeping, but instead i'm laying here shaking, my heart racing, my mouth dry, my stomach churning... all because i heard his voice.  does that seem at all fair to you?  because i don't see it.  and i know, i know... it's been 5 years since the last time he hurt me, but it just doesn't go away.  i can't make it stop no matter how hard i try.

 

i want him to suffer so badly, i want him to spend one day feeling how i do every day of my life.  i want to know what goes through his head, what he was thinking as he was on top of me.  does he still think about it?  does he enjoy thinking about it?  probably.  but mostly i want to know why did he choose me.  what about me made him feel like this was ok.  what made him want to grab me.  what made him want to touch me.  what made him want to hold me down.

 

he was always able to manipulate me so easily.  i always thought of myself as a strong person.  someone who never let others influence her.  but he single-handedly dismantled all of my self-confidence, my self-worth, my trust in others and myself, and my optimism regarding the world around me.  he ruined my relationships with my mother, my two older sisters, and my own father.  don't even get me started on the damage he's done to my perception of my younger siblings.  they're his children and as much as i love them, i can't help but see his face every time i look at them.

 

but what i don't understand is all the times he would ask for my forgiveness, or call me and ask me if i thought he was a good person.  he must have known that what he was doing was wrong or he wouldn't have felt guilty.  or maybe that was just another way to control me.  he knew that if he asked if i thought he was a good person, i'd say yes and that would inadvertantly make me accept what he was doing as ok.

 

he used my mother's own childhood abuse to try and convince me that this was normal.  he would say over and over that since we weren't actually related, that there was nothing wrong with what we were doing.  and every time i would get close to telling him i never wanted him to touch me again, he'd throw in "you know the only reason i'm still with your mother is because of you... if it weren't for you, i would have been gone a long time ago."

 

what angers me the most is how looking back, i can see how he groomed me for this since he met me.  yes, the inappropriate touching started when i was 12, but even before that he started preparing me.  it angers me that i can see it now, but of course then i had no idea.  i thought he was just a nice guy who geniunely cared about me and my family.  he saw a little girl whose father was a drunk and drugged out mess, abusive physically and verbally, and that was when he was around.  in other words, an easy target.

 

the build up was so gradual that i didn't even realize i was being abused until i was 19 years old.  and it took my roommate telling me over and over again that i was raped after hearing the details of what he did before i actually believed it.  and i STILL kept letting him hurt me.  i guess "letting" really isn't the correct word, but i can't seem to think of a better one just right now.

 

he broke me down in so many different ways, that it's truly a miracle that i'm still alive.  he had a way of making me feel worthless unless i was lying underneathe him.  then all of a sudden i was "beautiful" and "sexy."  he had me so far under his thumb that he had me believing that i liked it because he wouldn't stop until he was sure i had climaxed.

 

and here's the thing i think i'm most embarrassed and disgusted about though.  it's so hard to even put this down because in truth i've never ever admitted this to anyone except myself until now....  the last time i saw my father conscious, he had invited me over to his apartment for dinner.  it was just the two of us and we just sat and ate.  during the 3 or so hours i was there, i kept waiting for him to tell me to take off my clothes.  after dinner he got up and gave me a kiss and a hug, and in my mind, i was just waiting for him to reach inside my shirt or down my pants... my own fucking father.  he had his problems, but he would never do something like that.  my stepfather had my head so warped, that anytime i'm alone with an older guy, i'm waiting for him to hurt me.

 

even now thinking about that makes me sick to my stomach.  that moment when i realized that my brain was expecting him to abuse me.  i think i only stayed another half hour or so because i couldn't stand my own thoughts.  and that was the last time i saw my father before he went into the coma and died a week later.  and all that after the asshole had stolen the previous 12 years with my father from me.

 

i doubt i'll ever be able to forgive him for what he did to me.  the torture he happily bestowed on me for 9 years.  but i KNOW i'll never be able to forgive him for taking a man who actually did love me, and making my mind turn him into a rapist.  for cutting short the last night i ever talked with him, and ruined the last hug and kiss i would ever get.  out of all the things he stole from me, that one hurts the most.

 

at this point it's 3:15 in the morning and my shift starts at 9:00.  my eyes are burning and my head is aching, but i needed to put this down.  i know for those of you who read my blog, it seems like this is all i talk about and you're mostly right.  but this is the ONLY place i feel like i can talk about this without being judged, ridiculed, or flat out dismissed.  so thanks.   

 
 
   
 

And there he is again.....

so, he came over the house the other day.  he was only supposed to drop off money for my mom, but he came in the house to give the kids some stuff.  my dogs went nuts so i came out to see what was going on, and there he was.  standing right at the end of the hall.  i stopped dead in my tracks and i can only imagine what my face must have looked like.  i came out and pretended like i was getting a bottle of water.  i stood there and stared at him for a good 5 minutes.  my mom started getting mad at me and motioning for me to go back into my room.  but what the fuck, i shouldn't have to hide in my own house.  finally i did go back into my room, but the look on his face when he saw me... it really felt like someone had just reached into my chest and ripped out my heart.

 

i went right into an intense flashback and anxiety attack.  after he left, my mom came into my room and asked why i came out and just stared at him.  i got mad at her, asking her why he was even here and basially told her the reason why i acted like that was because i was so surprised to see him and i didn't know what else to do.  at which point i lost it and started crying hysterically.  my mom actually asked me why i was crying.  are you kidding me?  you actually have to ask why i'm upset at seeing the man who raped and abused me for 9 years.  sometimes i really don't understand what goes through her head.

 

i guess i shouldn't be surprised, whenever i've tried talking to her about it, she always turns it around to talk about how much she's gone through and how much she's a victim.  i should let her read my blog.  maybe then she'll see how long and how much i've been suffering.  she just expects me to be ok with everything all the time.  i've gotten a lot better, i'm not on any medicaiton anymore except for some xanax every once in awhile when i have a panic attack.  i think it speaks a lot to my character that i have chronic PTSD and i've gotten to the point where i can manage the disorder with healthy coping mechanisms and no long term medications.

 

well i'm getting pretty tired now.... good night mindsay land

 
 
 

   
it's been 5 years.....

so why is it that i still feel my chest tighten with fear and anxiety whenever i hear his voice or smell the lotion he used?  why does he still haunt my dreams, why is he still controlling my life?  i guess the more important question is, how do i make it stop?

 

i don't have the answer, but i wish i did.

 

because frankly, these last few days have felt like one giant struggle to keep from losing my mind.  i've been seriously fighting the urge to cut again.  but i haven't given in..... yay for me! 

 

**WARNING: GRAPHIC DIALOUGE UP AHEAD**

 

i slipped while talking to my mother about how far things actually went with him.  i regret saying anything to her now.  just the look on her face was enough to break my heart.  i didn't realize that she had no idea that he used foreign objects on me.  i must have left that out back when this all came to light.  last week she was saying how she had lost her temper with him and yelled at him about money or whatever.  in hearing this, i was thrown into a flashback to when it was still happening and i lost MY temper about him and went off about how fucked up his sense of right and wrong is.  and that he once told me that he could never have sex with me because it would be wrong, but then he was perfectly okay with holding me down and shoving the handle of a hairbrush or the dildo he bought inside of me.  please tell me what's the difference?  he might as well have had sex with me.  i truly don't see the distinction.  any person i've ever asked has said that what he did is rape even though he never penetrated me with his penis.  and i agree.  it took me a long time to equate that term with what happened, but now i see it for what it is.  and see HIM for what he is.  he claims to be a sex addict... no, that's inaccurate.  he's a predator, he's a rapist, he's an ANIMAL.

 

the pictures he took of me.  he thought that out to the point where he bought underwear for me to put on in the pictures so that i wouldn't be recognized if someone found them.  he knew my mom would be gone for hours that day and had everything already set up when he got me out to his van.  where i would sit (a cooler with a towel draped over it), the camera all ready (a polaroid so he could avoid having to develop any film), not to mention already hidden in a black bag in the corner, was a porno and the large dildo he'd force into me later that day after the pictures were over.  he promised me that if i took the pictures, we wouldn't have to do anything anymore because he'd have something to masturbate to.  if what he was doing was ok, then he wouldn't have had to go through all that would he?

 

pushing me up against the wall or bending me over the couch, pressing against me.  trapping me in my bedroom until i agreed to take my clothes off so he could see and look at me for hours on end.  not letting me dress again until he was sure i had orgasmed.  just to make sure i thought i liked it.  laying naked on top of me and pushing so hard against me that i was worried he would just go ahead and push inside of me.

 

if i ever refused, he made me pay for it later.  he'd sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night.  or if he couldn't do that, he'd get me in trouble with my mother, or just put me down constantly, threaten to leave the family, any number of things each with the power to keep me compliant.  but as i got older i became more resistant, and he became more violent, more spiteful.  one day i was at the computer relaxing, just he and i were at home, when he walked in and asked me to take off my clothes.  i told him no, he frowned, and walked away.  a few minutes later, he calls my name from the hallway and i look over to see him standing there naked, stroking his erect penis.  i raised my eyebrows and looked back to the computer screen without a word, trying to seem unphased.  he walked over to me and started rubbing up against me like a fucking dog.  i brushed him off and told him no again.  he grabbed my breast and told me to stop being a tease, this wasn't fair to him.  i pushed his hand away and looked him straight in the eye and told him, i didn't want to do anything with him, i just wanted to be left alone.

 

he walked back to where his clothes were and dressed himself again.  after about another 20 minutes of "please" and "oh  come on" and my steady stream of "no" he seemed to give up and asked if he could at least just have a hug then if i didn't want to do anything.  me being stupid i believed him and got up to just give him a hug.  i even said it to him "just a hug and that's it, right?"  he nodded and hugged me.  when i tried to pull back is where we had a problem.  he held me so tight i couldn't breathe and began humping me.  as i said no over and over again, he reached up under my shirt, grabbed hold of my nipple and twisted it hard, not allowing me to move away from him.  i grabbed his hand and tried to loosen his grip with no success.  he shoved his other hand down my pants and tried to put his finger into my rectum (something he'd done before on one of his midnight visits).  i started yelling for him to stop, but it didn't register with him until i looked him in the eyes, started crying, and yelled "please dad, i don't want to do this."  he finally let go and i locked myself in the bathroom pretending i was showering until my mother came home.

 

the worst one in my mind was after one of my surgeries.  he was supposed to be away at some kind of training camp for correction officers (he was thinking of switching careers).  much to my dismay, i saw his car in the driveway when my mom and i pulled up my first day home from the hospital.  now, he did give me about a week or so to recover but after that, he started in.  to the point where he made me get up, take off my pants, and spread my legs.  he did the spreading since my hip was broken in  3 different places.  the pain was so excruciating that it brings tears to my eyes just remembering it.  i couldn't stand up on my own, couldn't walk, couldn't run away.  he would walk over to the recliner that had become my permanent residence, move my legs for me since i really couldn't, and fondle me for hours.  i couldn't close my legs against him, i couldn't even sit up to push his hands away.  my tears of pain didn't matter, my pleas for him to stop didn't matter, he didn't even care that he could be doing physcial damage to already broken bones.  then adding insult to injury, he'd make me get him off with a hand job.  the fucked up thing though?  he wouldn't force me to orgasm this time because according to him, he didn't want to hurt me.......  WTF?

 

my only regret?  that i didn't at least try to put him in jail.  i should have gone to the police.  odds are good he would have gotten off, (no real physical evidence just my word against his) but at least everyone would know what he is.  and at least i could say that i tried.  right now i just feel like a coward.

 

from the time i was 12 to when i was 21.  not a day went by without him harrassing me.  even when i was in college, he used the telephone and then the 9 hour car ride home to make up for lost time.  i ask you, what kind of person can do this to a child?  i don't think i'll ever understand him.  i don't WANT to understand him.  because if i understand him, that means i see something rational in it, and there just isn't.  i want so bad to hurt him.  to squeeze every last bit of life out of him until he feels as dead inside as i do.

 

well right now, my stomach is in knots, my throat is dry, my heart is racing and pounding against my rib cage, my eyes are red with tears.  i keep expecting him to push through my door and hold me down on the bed.  i can physcially feel him touching me.  the clarity of it all is disturbing.  i guess PTSD will never completely go away.

 

at least i can take a little bit of comfort in knowing i did the right thing by at least telling my mother.  i would never forgive myself if he had done the same to my little sisters.  i can only imagine how my older sister must feel.  he hurt her too, and when my mom thought she saw something and confronted my sister, she denied anything happened.  it's because of that denial that i was abused next.  it's not my sister's fault, and i would never EVER blame her or hold her responsible for what happened to me, but i know her and i know how deeply she cares about and loves me.  and i know that she blames herself.  we've talked about it, she was just a child then also.  14 years old when my mom confronted her.  i know that if the roles were reversed that i'd never forgive myself.  as it is, i blame myself for taking away my younger sister's father.  even though i know i saved them.  it's a complicated set of emotions.  i just find it amazing that so much pain and devestation can be caused by one person...... no, not a person.... an ANIMAL.

 
 
   
 

PTSD: A basic guide written at 5 in the morning

Yesterday I got triggered out by something around 11 or 12, probably, and  I spent the next few hours mentally going back to last summer, when I first moved to Seattle and this guy followed me and I was convinced he was going to kill me. I felt horrible and out of it and kind of jumpy. It helped to write about it, several long pages describing what happened and the horribleness of triggering, but afterwards I felt like writing something that would cheer me up. So I wrote this:

 

----

What is PTSD? you might ask. Oh, PTSD is the shit. Me and my PTSD get along like a house on fire. Or possibly like a bag of shit on fire on someone's porch. Having PTSD is a little like having a group of spiders decide they should start up a happy little family in your body and then proceed to gleefully spit venom all over your brain and get cobwebs all over your nervous system. They eat all the butterflies in your stomach, but then celebrate their feast by tap dancing drunkenly in the middle of the night. That's why so many people with PTSD have insomnia, you see.

PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In other words, it's when something shitty happens to you (generally much worse than a bag of flaming shit on your porch) and you accidentally spend the next 20 years (or possibly the rest of your life) unable to stop freaking out about it. PTSD is your brain doing it's best to process something too big to handle all at once, a healthy reaction to an unhealthy situation. Except it's the "painfully reset a broken bone" healthy as opposed to the "heart-healthy and delicious granola breakfast with a bucket of antioxidants on the side" healthy.

A big part of PTSD is flashbacks. You might be sitting around, not bothering anybody, when all of the sudden your brain decides it's a time-traveling machine and its job is to take you back to That Shitty Incident in Idaho or something. Your heart sees the brain doing this, says, "I can do what I want!" (possibly in a Texan accent) and finally pursues it's dream of being a ticking time bomb. It's all great fun, kind of like dancing on hot coals without calluses or any sort of yogic meditational powers.

People without PTSD sometimes tell me it's all in my head and/or to get over it, but strangely enough, they are never eager to get brain-switching surgery with me. Even when I hover over them and gurgle, "braaiins, brrraaaaiiiins," convincingly, they seem entirely too content keeping their brains inside of their heads and instead giving me advice I did not ask for. If you have PTSD and someone does this to you, I suggest belching up a few of the tap dancing spiders into their hair and seeing how long it takes them to go back to being calm, wise, and logical. If it is longer than two seconds, feel free to laugh maniacally and tell them they are full of shit. After all, you live with those spiders all the time, and you don't spend all your time screaming and flailing -- just some of the time.

----

 

 

Made me feel a lot better.

 
 
 

   
Trauma Treatment in St.Louis, Mo
Advantages of Trauma Treatment

The good news for those that suffer from the effects of trauma in St.Louis, Mo is that trauma treatment is available right here in the city. The effects of trauma can cause immense physical, emotional, and relationship problems. Treatment for trauma can work and sufferers can experience some of the following:

• Improved mood
• Increased ability to create and maintain reliable/consistent interpersonal relationships
• Improved sleep and activities of daily living
• Increased ability to contain and process traumatic memories
• Ability to pursue a well balanced healthy lifestyle

People at different ages may be witness or subject to distressing or harrowing incidents such as war, sexual abuse, or death. If you know anyone struggling with post-traumatic-stress disorder (PTSD) or trauma, you should encourage them to seek treatment at a professional mental health treatment center. The mental healthcare providers should utilize methodology incorporating trauma resolution therapies and medication.

Some Effective Treatment Modalities

Some of the possible treatment modalities are listed below:

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) – This treatment approach involves activating components of a traumatic memory or disturbing life event and pairing those components with alternating bilateral or dual attention stimulation. This process appears to facilitate the reintegration of normal information processing. This treatment approach can result in the alleviation of presenting symptoms, diminution of distress from the memory, improved view of the self, relief from bodily disturbance, and resolution of present and future anticipated triggers.
 
Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT) – It enables the patient to process and assess their feelings with respect to the concerned trauma. CBT can also help clients explore cognitive distortions that resulted from traumatic events. CBT cannot fix the psychological impact of trauma. However, it is beneficial when used in conjunction with EMDR or any other body-based modality.

Internal Family Systems Therapy- this approach is based on the premise that people can learn to relate to their inner emotions or “parts” from a loving, compassionate place. It provides a way for clients to focus inside on and listen to their feelings and emotions without being overwhelmed. Through IFS clients can access traumatic memories and process them from a safe distance while relating to the memory with compassion and wisdom.

Medication – Medication therapy can be an effective tool to help clients manage the physical symptoms resulting from trauma such as anxiety, panic attacks, or dissociation. Medication therapy should always be overseen by a licensed Psychiatrist.

Trauma treatment in St.Louis, Mo can help many men and women resolve traumatic memories and the resulting physical, emotional, and relational problems. Comprehensive, successful treatment can help those that suffer from trauma regain a balanced and healthy life. 
 
 
   
 

Showing 1 - 5.   [ Next ]
 
Latest Comment
Re: Stopping In - LOL! Happy frogs eh? It's mating season and your pool is like a pick-up joint. Post pics...

Read...


 
© 2005-2007 MindSay Interactive LLC
| Terms of Service
| Privacy Policy
My Account
Inbox
Account Settings
Lost Password?
Logout
Blog
Update Blog
Edit Old Entries
Pick a Theme
Customize Design
Modify Plugins
Community
Your Profile
Wiki Pages
MindSay Tags
Video & Photos
Geographic Directory
Inside MindSay
About MindSay
MindSay and RSS
Report Spam
Contact Us
Help