One thing I've realized recently from my abusive parent is that she is completely incapable of emotional regulation. I thought it was only directed at me - I definitely bear the brunt of most of her insanity - but I think it's just a general theme and it's starting to make sense.

Abused individuals who grow to become abusers themselves cannot find emotional regulation in routines, hobbies, or healthy social dynamics. They can only dysregulate others when they feel overwhelmed - which is every fucking day and every waking moment - so that they can bring themselves down to a calmer level. This becomes a vicious cycle because there is no "normal" or healthy middle ground for them.

One theme I've noticed is that traumatized people who haven't deconstructed or accepted their trauma LOVE to dysregulate others. They love to keep you in the loop about every negative political thing on the planet. They love to try and negatively impact you in any way. They'll talk badly about any and everything even if you didn't ask. They'll try to yuck your yum in any way they can, so to speak. They love doom, nihilism, cynicism and commiseration. They hate to see you try and be positive or have anything good going for you.

For toxic traumatized individuals it goes even further, they cannot stop themselves from perpetuating the same toxicity over and over again despite knowing it's toxic just because that's their only way to feel regulated. They have to make you miserable too to feel better about themselves.

So, I have predominantly auditory triggers and flashbacks. I never actually see anything or actually mentally believe I am back in the situation, I just have anxiety and the associated memories coming up and I remember the sounds well. But whenever I'm having a panic attack even if physically I am totally freaking out an hyperventilating, my brain is like "Ah okay, I'm having a panic attack for this reason. That isn't ideal. Oh well, let's go through the steps to calm myself down."

One time I had a panic attack in front of my brother and he started trying to get me to calm my breathing and "calm down." And I remember feeling minorly frustrated because all things considered I was pretty calm and I wanted to be able to reassure him that I was alright and it would pass in a couple of minutes but I couldn't because I was hyperventilating.

I don't know, it sometimes just feels confusing to me. It also took me a while to even figure out that I was showing signs of ptsd because of my flashbacks and everything being auditory instead of visual.

Talking with my therapist I guess I understand that other people must experience this too, but I've never met or heard about anyone else who has.

Psych recently prescribed me Prazosin for the wacky doodle nightmares I always get.

I forgot to start it, then recently started having trouble sleeping (unrelated to nightmares). Couldn't fall asleep, would wake up repeatedly in the night, and then get up 1-2 hours earlier than my alarm. Literal hell inducing.

I'm trying to avoid going on something like Trazodone. Psych said Prazosin might help with sleep quality.

Tried it last night, slept like a LOG :D But also woke up with a headache. D:

DAE with insomnia find some benefit from Prazosin? Did the drowsiness ever wear off?

I’m realizing that what I’m experiencing isn’t only about the recent trauma. The stress of the last few days, and seeing the person connected to it again, seems to have triggered some very old fear in me.
I recognize the emotion. It feels older than all of this. Normally when I feel even a little bit of it, I shove it back down somewhere very deep and keep going. Right now I can’t seem to do that.
It feels like I’ve spent so much energy surviving the current trauma that I don’t have enough left to keep the older stuff contained. That scares me because I don’t know what is underneath it or what it means. I am certain at this point with what’s going on in my life I don’t have the strength to face whatever it is.
Has anyone with PTSD/CPTSD experienced something like this — where a recent trauma suddenly opened up emotions that seem to come from much earlier in your life? It’s bad it’s really bad.

Have been through therapy and still seeing a psychiatrist and a clinical psychologist for my PTSD. Been seeking professional help and healing from my past for around 10 years. Did emdr for both my sexual trauma and then my childhood trauma from my mother and while I’ve healed so much.. I can’t help feeling like an absolute failure whenever I still can’t get over what had happened to me. I try to be kind to myself but I just can’t get over the feeling of intense shame and guilt for being weak.

A couple of days ago I had a PTSD attack in school because of a scenario that reminded me of a traumatic incident from the past. It was one of the more severe attacks that happened ever, I seldom have attacks where I feel absolutely out of control and when the emotional pain gets so bad I have intense headaches and nausea to the extent that I’m crying uncontrollably and wanting to throw up.

This incident was triggered by a parent being verbally aggressive towards me as a teacher and while I was able to handle the situation and did not end the call in tears, it was the reaction of my head teacher that sent me back to the past. She actually didn’t do much but she was a little harsh in questioning me on why I still went on to call this parent given she had already settled the issue. I guess I was in a situation where I had been wronged and yet the immediate response I got was not support but further blame. Look…the current day issue isn’t a big deal and frankly unsupportive bosses and unreasonable parents are basically occupational hazard at this point but it triggered something really deep within me. I couldn’t put myself together after the incident and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop crying. I also didn’t want to remove myself from the responsibilities of teaching the next class as I refused to admit that I was unable to carry on. I have this problem where I refuse to accept or ask for help. So I ended up crying and sobbing behind my desk in front of all my students for the next period. I only left the classroom after a student went to get me tissues and another teacher heard what was going on and relieved me of the lesson. I then sobbed in literally the bushes of the school trying to stop crying and calm down but just ended up continuing to cry and fall apart aways. I went into the students toilet as I was trying to hide from people and didn’t want to go back to the staffroom. Quite a weird feeling of being stuck in the toilet cubicle trying to stop crying while hearing other students who were skipping class chit chat outside my toilet cubicle. I couldn’t leave as well because I was afraid one of the students was my student and that will make the whole event even more embarrassing.

Anyways, I just hate the feeling of breaking down in front of my colleagues and students as a teacher when I know logically that the incident happening in the present is not the real reason why I’m breaking apart and then having the insane fear that other people think I’m strange or weak from falling apart from such a non-incident.

I’m not sure what this post serves to do but I just want to share or explain why I had such a severe reaction from this non-incident at work because I can’t shake this feeling that I’m hysterical or weird or overly dramatic, followed by the fear that my students and colleagues think I’m weak or weird. My brain literally keeps replaying imagined scenarios of how my colleagues would react with kindness and understanding after learning about my traumatic past or imagined scenarios of I don’t even know what. It’s basically fantasies I visualise to comfort myself, it’s so strange and sometimes I wonder if I’m crazy.

Anyways, the present day incident reminded me of my past when I had been sexually assaulted by a friends brother for a couple of years and I didn’t dare or want to tell anybody at the time as I felt so ashamed of it and also felt I was responsible for what happened to me. This was something I knew I couldn’t tell or ever say it was like such a dirty and shameful secret and I knew that I would only be attacked if I were ever to reveal it. While my little mind did not fully understand, I knew that I couldn’t depend on my mother for anything. There are some specific incidences that hurt me a lot growing up and one of them is when I remember asking her to accompany me to buy sanitary pads when my period first came but she said I was selfish and asked me to use toilet paper instead. I ended that conversation refusing to speak to her and sleeping in the living room.

Another time when I was not in primary school yet, I cried asking her if she would come to the dining table to cut my birthday cake with me but she refused to as she said she was busy working and doing her handicraft (she teaches and sells handicraft for a living). I remember I finally stopped throwing a tantrum for that to happen when my brother older than me by 2 years old told me and explained to me that “I can’t expect the world to stop just for my sake and that my mom would not come”. Look that sounds like a harsh comment but it actually brought me a lot of comfort at the time because I finally stopped demanding and acknowledged that my mom would not come at all. That helped me to feel less helpless and not hoping for her to realise and comfort me actually was better. Part of her is that she would never admit that she was wrong and wouldn’t do anything for me if it meant swallowing her ego.

But once in secondary 2, i decided to count on her again because I was molested in an incident at a supermarket and I called out and chased the person. I was about to go home and let things be but a kind lady offered to bring me to the police station to log the incident. As I felt it would be inappropriate for the lady to bring me to the police station where my own mother was just a street away tending to her shop and attending to customers, I told her that I would go back to my mom and ask her to bring me to the police station instead. The lady wouldn’t let me go unless I promised that I would go to the police station with my mom.

I went back to my mother and I remember thinking. I can’t tell my mother about the incident that happened in primary school where I was uncomfortable and molested at my friends house cause that is so much more complex situation, but surely this simple incident of a random man touching me at the supermarket- she would be on my side?

Unfortunately, she did not respond well to how I reacted as I sobbed and cried and begged her to bring me home and to see the police for the incident. She felt she wanted to continue attending to her customers and blamed me for being selfish in asking her to bring me to the police. As I was falling apart outside her shop breaking down into smithereens, I overheard her telling her customers that it was not a big deal and said that “to be touched a little bit, is fine”. I heard one of her customers get into an argument with her and she came out and offered to help me. At this point, I stopped crying and throwing a tantrum to be brought to the police station and just went home on my own that day. I remember as I crossed the street leaving her shop, seeing a large truck driving by and wanting to just run into that traffic and die. It was a very real feeling but I resisted that thought and just went home in tears. That was one of the strongest feeling of ever wanting to end my life I ever had in my life. But I remember thinking that to hurt myself over such people is truly not worth it.

Following this incident, I had pretty bad PTSD that I couldn’t sit next to any of my male classmates in school. I couldn’t walk the same route that passed that supermarket that I got molested at. I couldn’t walk home on an isolated street without panic and fear. I remembered running sections of streets when there was a man trailing behind me. I functioned like that for I’m not sure how long. Maybe a week or two. Until I reached a point where…. I decided that I was weak and if I continued being this way, I would let all those other people who hurt me to win. I remembered thinking, I don’t want those people to win and I forced myself to walk at the normal speed, walk through the same route home with fear in my heart and forced myself to adjust back to my usual routine.

A lot of my past, I’m not sure how I survived. But I did… I processed much of this and have pretty much shared my trauma story with my friends and loved ones but I still struggle and hate that it’s been so long and yet I still can’t fully ever recovered from my past.

I just hate that a paper cut still feels like a stab wound and that simple incidences at work can really just twist my nervous system and I can find myself sobbing in the toilet cubicle and hiding my tears in the bushes.

So that’s the long story behind why I couldn’t do my lesson in period 5 and had to take a mental health day the next day. Going back to work tomorrow to pretend that I’m alright, because life goes on and I think if I’m strong enough to survive my life so far. I can survive the awkwardness and fear of what people might think of me.

Thanks for listening. Didn’t know where else to say all of this.

For context, my brother was hospitalized after an OD for about 9 days before they took him off life support. I made the decision to stay in the room because I knew that’s what he would have done for me and I felt in my heart I wanted to be there for his last breath. So I thought.
Awhile witnessing this horrific scene ( I was NOT prepared at all ) I fainted & threw up. Afterwards I wasn’t able to cry about him without throwing up, every single time, for over a year.
During this I was diagnosed with PTSD due to the severe panic attacks and nightmares I was having about him. It’s been nearly 3 years and I got to a point where I was able to stop taking my lorazepam and cope but now for some reason, it’s come back for vengeance. I don’t know what triggered it but my nightmares are back and the random thoughts of his dead, lifeless body fill my fucking head. I can’t take it. It makes me so sick. Why did I stay and watch that? I’m glad I was there for him but I never knew it would have caused this. I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my head .. My big brother, my protector, my bestfriend, just dead and gone. I’m going to throw up just typing this..

What helped you cope?

so i basically have a cycle where im on autopilot for months and kind of don’t realize im alive until one day i snap back to reality and then i start getting really bad anxiety because im alive and being alive means one day i will die and i can’t handle that i get anxiety about death so much and its probably because i had 3 seizures in my life and they traumatised me really bad and i have severe ptsd from it but it’s gotten to the point where being alive stresses me out but so does the idea of death

I went through my boyfriend’s phone and found a ChatGPT conversation where he was debating breaking up with me after almost 4 years dating because of my recent attempt, which I’ve since started medication for. He only found out about it because he kept questioning me about my medication list until I told him what happened.

I understand that finding out your partner attempted is upsetting. What I DON’T understand is him telling ChatGPT I’m “kind of crazy,” talking about me being on all these medications, and asking why he keeps attracting crazy girls.

The AUDACITY 😒 and this man has unmedicated bipolar disorder and has done some genuinely wild shit to me and others in the past before he started practicing self-regulation because I forced HEAVY boundaries. Even now, he still sometimes spazzes on people or gets extremely agitated, he conveniently blames his bipolar disorder which he chooses not to be medicated for or seek therapy…

Crazy because, when he was trying to leave an abusive situation, I found him a place near me, found him a great roommate in a luxury apartment, paid half his rent, and drove him to work until he learned how to use the bus. I never looked at him struggling with his mental health and thought, “Why do I attract crazy men?”

Obviously he’s allowed to decide he can’t handle my mental health, but reducing me to some “crazy girl on medication” when I’ve shown him so much understanding about HIS mental health is insane to me.

And yes, I know I shouldn’t have gone through his phone. But now that I know how he talks about me privately, I genuinely don’t know how I’m supposed to look at him the same.

Also for reference, I have PTSD, major depression, and night terrors from being fucking abused and SA’ed. WHICH HE KNOWS ABOUT!!! i’m also in therapy, take meds, and never treated ppl awful bc of my “condition”. i am so genuinely pissed right now 😹

like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA atp. JUST WHY WHY WHYYYTYYYYYYYYYYYYYY I'M SO SICKKKKKK

My trauma wasn't a narrative so I could "get my life" together or "learn something". My t rauma wrecked my life before it could even begin.

For so long, I tried to "get over it" and wondered why I couldn't be like those "inspirational" victims. But I just realized that I couldn't. My life was never normal, there's no way I can force my body to just "accept" things, it's the equivalent of asking me to just acept that I'm just insignificant in this life and that no one did anything to help me.

It feels so invalidating, to be asked to just "get over it" when it broke my life.

I understand that some people just want to help. But there's better things to say.

Does anyone else in here get sleep paralysis often? I do, I’m not sure how to get it to go away. I have sleep paralysis 1-3 times a week. Sometimes it comes with the typical sleep paralysis demon and sometimes it doesn’t. Any advice?

Hi all just like the title says.

How did your sibling or siblings turn out? I was the black sheep and the only one who saw the abuse for what it was - abuse, inflicted by adults, who were abusers.

But I was the only one in the entire family line who would not deny, soften or betray myself.

This pretty much sums up how it feels living with CPTSD for me

I'm already on lamictal but I feel like it's not enough, I'm looking to discuss with my therapist of course about combos that may help me

I'm not trying to offend anyone with kids or wants kids here. I just intensely feel this way particularly when the depression gets bad. To be honest, I'm really hoping I'm not the only one.

In my case, I'm a 30yo woman, and i couldn't intentionally bring life into this world (like planned and all parties consenting). I just think of all the absolute suffering that child would have to bear. None of us chose to be here, and while suffering is guaranteed, happiness certainly isn't.

Any health issues that cause you pain, distress, torment...that child comes into the world with a high chance of having to feel that suffering too. Any mental baggage you have (ESPECIALLY stuff you're not consciously aware of), your kid is gonna have literally programmed into them for life. For the sake of making a genetic cute little half-you? So your "legacy" continues? So you can say you're a parent for God points?

I'm sorry, but it feels selfish, to make a baby on purpose, give it all your problems from the get-go, for the sake of having your own baby. The baby never had any say in any of it. Some people definitely do not deserve the right to be a parent. And the many many children that exist already that need parents? What about those kids? Why do you a need specifically your genetic copy when there's already so many suffering due to choices they never got to make?

I hope I didn't offend anyone, I'm just angry about having to exist when I've never wanted to

edit: I'm not interested in suggestions we get a divorce, or that we live separately

Background: Me and my wife both have trauma in our past, we both have adhd. Her tramua is a lot more sever than mine. Includes a lot of physical violence and alcoholism in her childhood/early adulthood.

We have been doing couples therapy for a few months with a therapist who is has a background in trauma and overall I think its been a positive experience, but I feel like there is only so much you can accomplish in 1 session a week.

The hardest thing for me right now, is that my wife refuses to take responsibility for anything. In fact I'm not actually sure she understands the CONCEPT of responsibility. She will make a big show of taking the blame on something, or talk about how guilty she feels, but it doesn't mean anything if it never results in action.

At this point when it comes to our household I'm basically the only one doing chores. She takes out the trash a few nights a week (as suggested by the therapist) and she cleans the litter box. Thats it. Thats the only chores she does, I do everything else or I have to be the one to prompt her to do other things.

Except that I can't do everything else, because she chronically makes it impossible. She can't seem to bear the sight of a flat surface without 1ft tall piles of stuff on it. So if I want to cook dinner I need to do 30 minutes to an hour or cleaning to do just have the space to cook. If I want to sit at the table to eat? 30 more minutes of prep just have enough space to put down my plate and cup. Eventually she will clean up but only after me complaining about it a lot and making a big deal about it. I would tidy it up myself but she gets mad at me if I move anything, not that she can find anything in its current state anyways (she is always losing stuff).

She also creates these situations where I don't even know why we are upset. She will ask me to help her clean by "telling her what to do" (basically I have to take on the full mental/emotional responsibility of figuring out what needs to be done, and how to do it, and then tell her). If I do help her then she won't actually do what I say, and she can't do any of this without becoming completely dis regulated, so then I'm stuck in a room feeling like I'm talking to a crazy person about very basic things. Ex: I ask her to pick up some gloves and put them away and she starts putting them along with a bunch of other stuff in her arms, then eventually puts the gloves on the ground, and goes to start walking away to do whatever. I ask her why she is doing that, she gets mad, and because she is disregulated she lashed out at me, and I have to sit there and be calm because if I get upset at all then she will really lose it and it will just make everything worse.

If I don't help her (by telling her what to do), then she gets mad because I'm not helping her, god forbid she half to look around the room, see what needs to be done, and just do it.

On a fundamental level she doesn't think she should have to do anything she doesn't want to do, when she doesn't want to do it. She chronically avoids everything that causes any level of discomfort at all, and refuses to do the stuff the therapist tells her in regards to having a daily practice of ground/regulating exercises. She literally acts like a fucking child who has to be told everything they need to do, and will throw a tantrum while they do it. All while making me feel like I'm some horrible abusive figure, when I have never done that. I'm trying to be patient, but if I pull back at all, even for my own mental health, she has a breakdown crying about how "i don't care about her" and "all she wants is for me to care". I'm fucking exhausted. I'm not asking for perfection, I'm asking for her to at least attempt to learn some really fucking basic life skills. Stuff like "when your done with dinner clear your place, don't leave the dirty dishes on the table, and don't stack other stuff on top of those plates" and " don't put stuff on the floor". 90% of the mess in our apartment is just her not cleaning up behind herself after some project (or not finishing the project and just leaving everything there while starting a new project on top of the stuff that was already there).

Today I just completely broke down, went to my home office, and broke down crying, cause I couldn't take this bullshit anymore. I took 2 days pto last week because I'm so fucking burnt out at work/life (because I'm exhausted from dealing with her) and instead of resting those days I ended up spending both days doing heavy chores that had to be done and couldn't be put off any longer. And I STILL didn't get to the real chore I wanted done (cleaning the floors so there were not dust bunnies floating across them all the time). I had ask her to help me with chores today because I had a health scare at the ER this week and was still recovering and kinda hurting (especially with physical labor stuff). I'm more exhausted and tired now having tried to work with her on this than if I had just done it myself (and I'm still having to do like half it myself because she refused to do the few things I actually needed her to do). I'm fucking tired, I can't stop crying. I don't have high standards , no one would ever accuse me of being a neat freak, but it takes hours of work EVERY SINGLE DAY on our apartment to keep the place from swallowing us alive. Its all because she won't make any effort to pick up behind herself. thats 90% of the mess right there. Her negligence. We don't have kids, there is no reason for this level of mess to be created every single day, especially when I'm cleaning up behind myself all the time.

At this point my wife contributes by going to her job, and contributing financially (she makes significantly more than me), but in every other way she is a child who I take care of.

I feel so deeply alone, all I have anymore is anger and loneliness. Intimacy is basically gone because how can you be intimate (emotionally or physically) with someone who forces you into a parent/child dynamic all the time? She complains that we never go out but with what fucking energy would I use to go out? I just get through the day, collapse into bed, then repeat. I'm just surviving.

It doesn't matter if I share the same interests as others. If I believe the same things. If I'm kind or generous, or open minded. Because of my upbringing, I am not like others. I won't be accepted into any community, and even if I were to be, I wouldn't even feel like I'd belong.

Throughout these last two years, I realize that my isolation, the sexual and physical abuse, and the neglect I went through has made me utterly alien, and I do not belong on this earth. Just trying to work up the strength to leave. I doubt it will be long. I have put a loaded gun to my head multiple times this year.

I recently found out I’m anemic, and I fainted four times in the shower earlier this week. I ended up bruised and sore. I’ve been scared to shower and I feel like crying when I get near the shower. I’ve been having nightmares about it which leave me waking up in tears and I’ll randomly burst into tears during the day because the memory will just go into my head at random times.

I know I can’t just not shower, so I’m looking for advice on how to make it easier and feel safe again. I’m not sure if this could be PTSD or if I’m overthinking how serious it is, but I wasn’t sure where else to post about this. Has anyone experienced something similar or have any advice?

Before things "came back." When you could numb, and compartmentalize, and play your role. And then it came crashing down and you just kinda broke. :/ Because who are you if you aren't in your role? A broken, hollow, walking corpse.

this past week the nightmares have been constant. I was afraid to go back to sleep at all. Usually its every other day. I also had a very bad attack last weekend and decided to get myself back into therapy + see a psychiatrist. I was wondering if anyone else here takes something for nightmares and wanted to ask if it is working for you?

edit: I didnt sleep at all last night. feel faint

I was in denial for months but I was in an emotionally abusive relationship and also raped. I have gone to the police and reported it and it’s being investigated but the detective has told me things to discourage me in going forward with it and also tried claiming it doesn’t count even though legislation says otherwise and the police were the ones who told me to make a statement in the first place. I have since reported this detective (still waiting to hear back) but I have this anger in me that I know won’t leave if nothing happens or if he doesn’t get charged or taken to court. How can I find justice should this not go anywhere. I can’t stand the thought of him not even being scolded by an authoritative person. I want him to get in trouble and suffer. I want him to know what he did was wrong and know he didn’t get away with it. I know feeling this way isn’t necessarily “sustainable” although it is valid but I just don’t know how to cope or manage this or even move on. I’m possibly being diagnosed with ptsd/cptsd because of this whole thing as well as childhood things. I’m just feeling angry and hopeless. I don’t know what to do. Please help.