Archive for the PTSD Category

The New Face Of PTSD

Posted in depression, PTSD with tags , , , , , , on November 28, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

This post is not a joke, not a pity party, and not intended to offend anyone. But my psychiatrist brought it to my attention this year that while no, I’ve never been abused or in the war…Things have happened to me that were very traumatic or happened repeatedly enough that it chipped away at my psyche and left its multitude of marks. I was programmed to think PTSD only happens to people who go to war or are abused but when you boil the disorder and symptoms down…what my doctor said makes absolute sense.

There are nights I wake up and the room feels cold…and because the heat was always going out at the trailer during winter, I immediately jump up to check the thermostat and furnace to make sure they are still working. And it’s filled with dread and terror every time, even though by the hundredth time, you’d think I’d start noticing the signs and self soothing. Nope. Much like I was terrorized by groups of teenagers in school, to this day, I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach any time I see a group of teenagers gathered. I don’t flee the other way like I once did, but I still can’t quite view them as harmless.

My parents had a turbulent 28 year marriage and my dad had an affair that resulted in a child with a girl younger than me and it was around October when he told mom and sister they needed to move out because he was leaving to be with his other family. Me, the girl who used to flout dress codes at jobs and insisted on wearing a Santa hat to wait tables or work the register because I loved the holidays so much, now finds holidays traumatizing. There is nothing about them that brings me joy aside from my kid’s excitement and it finally being over. Since they split over 20 years ago, our entire family splintered with mom and sis living together with their extended family and friends, and dad and his here in Armpit, rehashing every bad thing mom ever did, or I ever did, or my sister ever did. It’s Criticalpalooza every time you see dad and his, whereas with my mom, she has dementia onset so I am never sure if she is going to go off and call me a fucking bitch who doesn’t deserve to have my child or if she is going to be loving and tell me I am a good mom. I HATE HOLIDAYS BECAUSE THEY ROBBED ME OF MY SIMPLE JOY WITH ALL THEIR DRAMA.

It may not rank up with standard PTSD causes, but the end result is the same It has tainted every aspect of my life, left me a shell of myself, and every day brings another new drama. Thanksgiving was marred with some fight between my sister and her son and his fiancee, which is still raging now. As usual, my mom is spending money on gifts they don’t have, and buying for 27 people not even related to us while my dad is being all scrooge and giving my kid a used 90’s LCD disc player thing and it’s so broken, you can’t even see the videos cos the liquid crystal is gone. Then I get texts from my sister’s friend wanting to know if we are still friends cos it’s her constaht presence that has caused so much of the drama in our family.

I don’t get involved. I try to get along with everyone and keep my ugly opinions to myself. I make it clear I am very content alone, I do NOT, nor have I ever, needed a friend who comes over 3 or 4 times a week and stays six hours at a time. If that is my sister’s thing (which it is, she never could be alone even as a kid), so be it. But leave me out of all this bullshit, it’s giving me stomach aches and panic attacks. Christmas Eve amidst all this drama and tension has me praying for a fucking blizzard that keeps us from getting to town. Which wouldn’t do any good to keep the other faction at bay as they live down the road.

Yesterday I guess dad spent ten minutes knocking on my front door but I was in my bedroom watching something on the computer so I didn’t hear the door, wasn’t til I saw a flood of sunlight outside my door that I realized someone had opened the front door and come inside. He immediately started bitching at me for ‘being on that fuckin’ computer’ and making him wait and not being able to hear him and WHEN ARE YOU GONNA CLEAN UP YOUR YARD? Never mind we just had a fucking ice storm so everything’s frozen to the ground, he isn’t the landlord, he isn’t even on the town board, so how I keep my yard is none of his fucking business. He totally triggered me for the day so instead of getting anything accomplished, I remained in my room in front of the computer, trying to think if there’s any way out of this neverending dramapukefest called my damned family.

And out of Armpit. They jacked up my internet bill via the usual excuse ‘state fees and federal fees’, now I get a notice saying I can’t pay my ridiculously high water bill in cash, has to be check or money order. Well I do internet banking so it’s cash or debit or spending $1.25 for a money order. Which I already do to pay the landlord to the tune of $17 a year, now that will double since I have to get a money order to pay the water bill. What the fuck, if you’re not gonna take cash, at least be set up for digital transaction, you backwater Deliverance motherfuckers. I swear the 8 months we have been here I’ve gone through every stage of grief, including acceptance, but I DON’T FUCKING ACCEPT IT. My kid hates it here, hates their school system, I hate being so close to my dad but moving back to town isn’t an option (and dad already said if we leave Armpit, he and stepmom won’t help us move, how’s that for controlling and spiteful>). What I need is a way OUT of this entire damn state. It’s giving me PTSD daily.

Okay, so I went a bit off topic but hey, at least you know you’re on the right blog. If I stayed on topic, well, that wouldn’t be Morgueticia.

A heartfelt thanks to those who have joined us on our Amazon wish list. Like I said, you can find items similar cheaper I am sure, but I was just trying to get the list made up and my kid went a little nutsy with the toys but…Yeah. Even one item from our list gives me more money to put gas in the car since the fundraiser has stalled. We aren’t asking for stuff we don’t already have or need. we have food. We have clothing (mostly). But I’m going to have to make a dozen trips to town this December and that adds up so even if you’re against giving to donation funds, a gas station card works just the same. And hey, if anyone reading this knows a private detective who works for free and will hunt down the donor and get his ass paying support again, by all means, please do. The man is a neverending source of heartbreak for my daughter and he’s not even in her life, by his own choice, but his actions affect her in ways he can’t comprehend. I hope Santa leaves him a lump of coal.

But yeah, PTSD has a new face, new causes, and it’s not a contest over who has it worst. We all have our scars that impact our daily functioning over and over again. But we keep fighting it and keep trying to survive and for me…I keep hoping one day I will find the person strong enough to handle me and all my damage and accept that there’s beauty inside that damaged vessel and a very good heart.

Ya know, when I’m not feeling the urge to throat punch people or stab them in the eye with a spork.