Hello, I'm new here and this is my first post, my name is Eldon.
I need to tell someone my story and I would like to do that here, in spite of the fear I feel in doing so.
I am now 50 years old and I have been in therapy for 30 years. A few weeks ago I saw the name Pete Walker mentioned in a Facebook group I recently joined. Just out of curiosity, I looked him up and ended up putting a sample of his book Complex PTSD onto my phone and read it. I have acquired the book and it is now very clear to me that I have C-PTSD. It's been a shock and a revelation that is still trying to sink in. I'm only a little over half way through the book.
The number of connections I am making about my childhood and beyond as I read the book are overwhelming for me, even with 30 years of therapy and other things, I did not see this coming. I have cried everyday since I got the sample of the book. I have been repeatedly misdiagnosed and have been abused in the process. I'm horrified at what has happened to my life.
I was born to two traumatized parents who finally divorced when I was 13 years old. Before I was born, between the 2 of them, they had "lost" 4 children with other partners. Their marriage and my birth were to fill a hole they both had in their hearts, in particular, my Mom.
My father was an angry, shaming, egocentric, controlling alcoholic and "macho" Texan who spent months at a time away from home drinking and having sex with other women while my mom and 2 brothers and I waited for him to return. He returned full of shame and guilt and it was time for all of us to get dressed and go to church on Sunday morning. Without his drinking he was miserable and made all of us pay for it in any number ways including the classic spankings and whippings. He had a 3 month on, 3 month off cycle of drinking.
My mother's father was an alcoholic and her mother was a mean and shaming woman who didn't tell her she loved her until my Mom was 45 years old. Her father was killed when she was 15 years old from a gunshot, it was never determined whether it was suicide or an accident. Someone who had been handling guns since he was a child, an accident is certainly possible but also perhaps, unlikely. She was never allowed to grieve his loss. Her brother, who she cherished, died of lung cancer in 1977 and I know she never recovered from that either, nor did her mom.
My Mom was depressed and although she loved us and tried to love us kids, I realize now more than ever, she was not able to be available due to her own unresolved trauma. This is the first time I have really spoken about my Mom in this way. I idealized my Mom and I am now having to wake up to that and it's excruciating.
My Mom, who was my best friend and who I love dearly, passed away 3 years ago from the Chemotherapy she was receiving to treat her stage 4 lung cancer. It was her 3rd fight with lung cancer and she and I fought with everything we had and she was brave and she was my Warrior Queen, I told her. I lived with my Mom my whole life until she passed, I was with her for all of it and I took care of her and was with her until her final breath, which is what she said she wanted. I miss her terribly. Looking at how I idealized her has been ripping me apart inside. My father died last October and I can no longer communicate with my hateful, addicted, abusive "brothers" both whom abused my Mom and I and abandoned my parents at the end of their lives.
When I was about 5 years old my older, half brother from my Mom's first marriage, started raping and molesting me. This was discovered one day when my father heard me screaming and came to see it happening. He went into a fit and scared me out of my mind and grabbed me, not my brother, and put me on a time out of some kind, I guess. I sat there alone in horror wondering... "What did I do?" No one ever spoke a word of it even to ask me if I was ok. My Mom later admitted that they didn't know what to do about it. I didn't remember any of this until I was 21 years old. The depression and anxiety exploded within me and before long I was self mutilating and bulimic. I went to "therapy' and a Psychiatrist who pumped me full of medications. I tried to kill myself, had a nervous breakdown of some kind and went to a Behavioral Medicine Unit, it was called, where I was put on the maximum does of Prozac and 5 weeks later walked out a zombie.
Around the same time when I was in kindergarten the bullying started. I was bullied and assaulted every year of school right into my senior year of high school. The suffering this brought is not something that I have ever been able to calculate or get to the bottom of. I lived in constant fear at home and at school. I had no where to go to be safe except, I thought, to my Mom. In the end, she was the only one that was ever there for me... as wounded and unconscious as she was. I know she did her best with what she had been given. But she was checked out much of the time in bed, taking prescription medication and depressed about my father being absent and cheating on her and abandoning us all and I'm sure about the losses of her earlier life. She was so beautiful and graceful and smart and a wildly gifted writer. I feel incomprehensible loss speaking of her.
When I became so "depressed" in my early 20's, I couldn't keep my jobs and I went onto disability for depression and there I have remained. All my attempts at going to college and working ended due to all of the things I was living with, I just haven't been able to manage what has happened to me. I do not believe I have ever cared about my actual existence, I have never been able to find myself, to acknowledge myself. All of this has brought me to now... my family is gone, I don't have a "career" or job and this place I have lived in since I was 13 years old I have to leave and move into my car. I literally have one friend in this world and he lives an hour and a half away and while I am thankful for him, he has hurt me more deeply than I have revealed. You see, I have spent my life Freezing and Fawning and that has never been more clear since reading into Pete's book. I sit here in a decent amount of disbelief over this insight, disoriented as to what has become of my life... a wasted life of suffering. I have lost almost everything. Even the growing health problems I have encounter since my Mom passed away and learning how that is part of Cptsd, I just can't believe that this information has been sitting in this book all this time. I needed this book a long time ago, duh. All those wasted years in bad therapy, being disrespected and abused and pathologized and stigmatized by so many... it all feels like utter destruction to me. I have had more suicidal ideations since my mom passed than in all of my life, I have felt totally overwhelmed and sick and I am almost totally isolated. I have literally lived the last 3 years in my apartment, I rarely leave except to go to the store. I started going back to see my therapist in person but for years, starting when my Mom got so sick, I was just doing phone appointments with her. Well, one thing is for sure, I will soon be out and about and on the streets like never before.
Whomever may be reading this, can you imagine the shame and horror and fear I am experiencing right now?! For your sake, I honestly hope not.
I could go on but I won't and I'm sure many will have needed to pass my post by due to it's length and triggering nature, right? I'm sure sorry about all of this.
So, here it is... here I am... I know now I have Cptsd and know not another that is the same. I have already read some posts and hear others reporting my same experience in different ways. I hope to read more, I will finish Pete's book, of course. But like his book is articulating and I can attest to, my will is broken and I view "people" as dangerous. I have to admit that because that is something I have fought against admitting. You know, trying to be "positive"! Of course, I don't want to feel others are dangerous, but I do and I have for a very long time and my life currently reflects this. Pete is honest and clear, recovery is going to take time and work but after the already 30 years I have logged in and my level of despair and energy... I just don't know what I can do anymore.
Wow... I can't believe I'm about to post this...
If you're a soul who has actually read my entire post, can I just say thank you for your time and attention? Thank you very much for the generosity of your time, I appreciate you hearing me out today.
And, I wish that all who are living with Cptsd... healing. Renewal. Will. Determination. Strength. Insight. Hope. The Championing of your Inner Child! Health. Intimacy. Self Compassion. Good Enough Relationships. Visibility. Creativity. Awakening to the Deepest Truths of who You ARE.
And LOVE. Love. Love.
May Honorable and Auspicious Consciousness be Yours,
Eldon
I need to tell someone my story and I would like to do that here, in spite of the fear I feel in doing so.
I am now 50 years old and I have been in therapy for 30 years. A few weeks ago I saw the name Pete Walker mentioned in a Facebook group I recently joined. Just out of curiosity, I looked him up and ended up putting a sample of his book Complex PTSD onto my phone and read it. I have acquired the book and it is now very clear to me that I have C-PTSD. It's been a shock and a revelation that is still trying to sink in. I'm only a little over half way through the book.
The number of connections I am making about my childhood and beyond as I read the book are overwhelming for me, even with 30 years of therapy and other things, I did not see this coming. I have cried everyday since I got the sample of the book. I have been repeatedly misdiagnosed and have been abused in the process. I'm horrified at what has happened to my life.
I was born to two traumatized parents who finally divorced when I was 13 years old. Before I was born, between the 2 of them, they had "lost" 4 children with other partners. Their marriage and my birth were to fill a hole they both had in their hearts, in particular, my Mom.
My father was an angry, shaming, egocentric, controlling alcoholic and "macho" Texan who spent months at a time away from home drinking and having sex with other women while my mom and 2 brothers and I waited for him to return. He returned full of shame and guilt and it was time for all of us to get dressed and go to church on Sunday morning. Without his drinking he was miserable and made all of us pay for it in any number ways including the classic spankings and whippings. He had a 3 month on, 3 month off cycle of drinking.
My mother's father was an alcoholic and her mother was a mean and shaming woman who didn't tell her she loved her until my Mom was 45 years old. Her father was killed when she was 15 years old from a gunshot, it was never determined whether it was suicide or an accident. Someone who had been handling guns since he was a child, an accident is certainly possible but also perhaps, unlikely. She was never allowed to grieve his loss. Her brother, who she cherished, died of lung cancer in 1977 and I know she never recovered from that either, nor did her mom.
My Mom was depressed and although she loved us and tried to love us kids, I realize now more than ever, she was not able to be available due to her own unresolved trauma. This is the first time I have really spoken about my Mom in this way. I idealized my Mom and I am now having to wake up to that and it's excruciating.
My Mom, who was my best friend and who I love dearly, passed away 3 years ago from the Chemotherapy she was receiving to treat her stage 4 lung cancer. It was her 3rd fight with lung cancer and she and I fought with everything we had and she was brave and she was my Warrior Queen, I told her. I lived with my Mom my whole life until she passed, I was with her for all of it and I took care of her and was with her until her final breath, which is what she said she wanted. I miss her terribly. Looking at how I idealized her has been ripping me apart inside. My father died last October and I can no longer communicate with my hateful, addicted, abusive "brothers" both whom abused my Mom and I and abandoned my parents at the end of their lives.
When I was about 5 years old my older, half brother from my Mom's first marriage, started raping and molesting me. This was discovered one day when my father heard me screaming and came to see it happening. He went into a fit and scared me out of my mind and grabbed me, not my brother, and put me on a time out of some kind, I guess. I sat there alone in horror wondering... "What did I do?" No one ever spoke a word of it even to ask me if I was ok. My Mom later admitted that they didn't know what to do about it. I didn't remember any of this until I was 21 years old. The depression and anxiety exploded within me and before long I was self mutilating and bulimic. I went to "therapy' and a Psychiatrist who pumped me full of medications. I tried to kill myself, had a nervous breakdown of some kind and went to a Behavioral Medicine Unit, it was called, where I was put on the maximum does of Prozac and 5 weeks later walked out a zombie.
Around the same time when I was in kindergarten the bullying started. I was bullied and assaulted every year of school right into my senior year of high school. The suffering this brought is not something that I have ever been able to calculate or get to the bottom of. I lived in constant fear at home and at school. I had no where to go to be safe except, I thought, to my Mom. In the end, she was the only one that was ever there for me... as wounded and unconscious as she was. I know she did her best with what she had been given. But she was checked out much of the time in bed, taking prescription medication and depressed about my father being absent and cheating on her and abandoning us all and I'm sure about the losses of her earlier life. She was so beautiful and graceful and smart and a wildly gifted writer. I feel incomprehensible loss speaking of her.
When I became so "depressed" in my early 20's, I couldn't keep my jobs and I went onto disability for depression and there I have remained. All my attempts at going to college and working ended due to all of the things I was living with, I just haven't been able to manage what has happened to me. I do not believe I have ever cared about my actual existence, I have never been able to find myself, to acknowledge myself. All of this has brought me to now... my family is gone, I don't have a "career" or job and this place I have lived in since I was 13 years old I have to leave and move into my car. I literally have one friend in this world and he lives an hour and a half away and while I am thankful for him, he has hurt me more deeply than I have revealed. You see, I have spent my life Freezing and Fawning and that has never been more clear since reading into Pete's book. I sit here in a decent amount of disbelief over this insight, disoriented as to what has become of my life... a wasted life of suffering. I have lost almost everything. Even the growing health problems I have encounter since my Mom passed away and learning how that is part of Cptsd, I just can't believe that this information has been sitting in this book all this time. I needed this book a long time ago, duh. All those wasted years in bad therapy, being disrespected and abused and pathologized and stigmatized by so many... it all feels like utter destruction to me. I have had more suicidal ideations since my mom passed than in all of my life, I have felt totally overwhelmed and sick and I am almost totally isolated. I have literally lived the last 3 years in my apartment, I rarely leave except to go to the store. I started going back to see my therapist in person but for years, starting when my Mom got so sick, I was just doing phone appointments with her. Well, one thing is for sure, I will soon be out and about and on the streets like never before.
Whomever may be reading this, can you imagine the shame and horror and fear I am experiencing right now?! For your sake, I honestly hope not.
I could go on but I won't and I'm sure many will have needed to pass my post by due to it's length and triggering nature, right? I'm sure sorry about all of this.
So, here it is... here I am... I know now I have Cptsd and know not another that is the same. I have already read some posts and hear others reporting my same experience in different ways. I hope to read more, I will finish Pete's book, of course. But like his book is articulating and I can attest to, my will is broken and I view "people" as dangerous. I have to admit that because that is something I have fought against admitting. You know, trying to be "positive"! Of course, I don't want to feel others are dangerous, but I do and I have for a very long time and my life currently reflects this. Pete is honest and clear, recovery is going to take time and work but after the already 30 years I have logged in and my level of despair and energy... I just don't know what I can do anymore.
Wow... I can't believe I'm about to post this...
If you're a soul who has actually read my entire post, can I just say thank you for your time and attention? Thank you very much for the generosity of your time, I appreciate you hearing me out today.
And, I wish that all who are living with Cptsd... healing. Renewal. Will. Determination. Strength. Insight. Hope. The Championing of your Inner Child! Health. Intimacy. Self Compassion. Good Enough Relationships. Visibility. Creativity. Awakening to the Deepest Truths of who You ARE.
And LOVE. Love. Love.
May Honorable and Auspicious Consciousness be Yours,
Eldon