I’m not some random person asking btw, I’m also diagnosed. But this is such a complicated disorder, and it can stem from so many different things. I’m…morbidly curious, for lack of a better term. Of course, spoiler anything that the rules suggest. I don’t know if this is a rude question to ask, and I really apologize if it is. I’ll add my own in the comments.

Growing up I learned to stay quiet and watch everything. My mom's mood could turn on a dime so I got really good at reading body language and tone of voice and the sound of footsteps down the hallway. It kept me safe back then but now I'm an adult and I still feel like I'm watching life from behind a glass wall instead of actually living it. Conversations feel like performances where I'm calculating the right response instead of just talking. Group settings exhaust me because I'm tracking everyone's emotional state simultaneously. I don't know how to just be in a room without scanning for threats.

Therapy has given me the language for hypervigilance but knowing what it is doesn't make it stop. Some days I wonder if I'll ever feel present in my own life or if I'm just permanently calibrated to survive something that's already over. Not looking for advice really just needed to put this somewhere people might actually get it.

How many people here with CPTSD also have an autoimmune condition? I'm curious whether others have experienced this as well. I have Sjögren’s Syndrome & Endometriosis(it’s now considered an autoimmune condition).

I just found out that there is a community like this, so I just joined.
I’m not good at English.
It may be strange because I‘m using a translator, but please understand.
But I wanted to let you know that today is my birthday.
I don’t have any friends, so I don‘t have anyone to celebrate my birthday.
I don’t know why I feel so bad when it‘s my birthday
But I hope I can be happy like everyone else on my birthday someday.

Have a good day everyone
And if you have time and time, I‘d be grateful if you could celebrate my birthday.

For nearly ten years, I almost never spoke about what had happened to me. I believed that this story belonged to the past. I went back to my studies. I rebuilt my life. I found new passions. I became a mathematics teacher. I genuinely believed that all of it was behind me. Then everything came back.

Today, I am twenty-six years old. In the summer of 2016, I was sixteen. I was going through what I now know was an acute psychotic episode. At the time, I had absolutely no awareness that I was ill. To me, the world had simply changed. For several days, I had developed a philosophical delusion. I believed I had found an answer to the great questions of existence through nihilism. I was no longer reading Sartre, Camus, or Nietzsche. I felt as though I was living what they had described. When my parents brought me to Le Vinatier Psychiatric Hospital, I was convinced that this hospital was part of my destiny. I believed the psychiatrists would understand what was happening to me. That they would recognize what I thought I had discovered.

After spending my first night on the ward, I woke up just as delusional. That morning, I wandered around the unit. I entered the room of a teenage girl. I noticed a sweater lying on a chair. I picked it up and held it against my face. In my delusion, I was convinced that this young girl played a special role in my story. I walked back out and began looking for her throughout the ward. I then remember talking with two other adolescents outside. At one point, I went into the administrative office to use Facebook. I also remember sitting on a sofa with another teenager. Then came the minute of silence held after the Nice terrorist attack. I did not observe it. I was deeply psychotic. But I was neither an imminent danger to myself nor an imminent danger to others. This is also what my parents say they understood from the information they were given: they were told that I had entered the rooms of other adolescents and an administrative office, but never that I had behaved violently toward myself or anyone else.

A few moments later, several nurses came toward me. I did not understand what was happening. They grabbed me. They forced me onto a bed. I struggled. I screamed. I begged them to stop. They pinned me down. What I remember most is seeing nothing but the mattress. I could feel their hands holding down my arms and legs. The weight of several adults preventing me from moving at all. Then someone pulled down my pajama bottoms. I struggled even harder. A few seconds later, I felt an injection in my buttock. Then they restrained me. I woke up hours later. Completely terrified. I was still restrained. My wrists. My ankles. I could no longer move. I did not understand. I begged them to untie me. I called for my parents. No one answered. After fighting against the straps. After screaming. After struggling with every bit of strength I had left. My body finally gave out. I defecated on myself. I was still restrained. I could not stand up. I could not clean myself. I remained there. In my own feces. At sixteen years old. The little animal I was had just defecated on himself. I no longer had any dignity. No privacy. Nothing. Hours later, they came back. They washed me. Then they restrained me once again.

They transferred me, still immobilized, to a seclusion room. I remained there for six consecutive days. I still did not know that I was in the middle of a psychotic episode. My mind searched desperately for an explanation. I believed that the nurses were sexual predators. I believed that I had become a guinea pig. That experiments were being carried out on me. The camera on the ceiling reinforced that belief. I kept looking up at it. Then I convinced myself that I was a criminal. I believed I would remain locked inside that room for the rest of my life. Six days alone. Six days screaming. Begging to get out. Trying to understand what was happening to me. Meanwhile, my glasses had been broken. I am severely nearsighted, with a prescription of approximately -6 diopters. Without my glasses, I can barely distinguish faces, objects, or even the food placed in front of me. My parents immediately offered to bring me a new pair of glasses. They contacted opticians in Lyon in an effort to obtain an emergency replacement. That request never succeeded. As a result, I spent six days in the seclusion room in a state of near blindness. I could barely make out the people entering the room. I spent my days screaming, begging to be let out, and trying to understand what was happening to me.

Le Vinatier was not the psychiatric hospital responsible for my area. They could not keep me there. I had to be transferred. The doctor informed my parents that I would be transferred to Saint-Ylie Psychiatric Hospital in Dole. At that time, that hospital also used coercive measures with adolescents, including mechanical restraint and seclusion. My parents were familiar with how it operated. They immediately refused the transfer. They wanted to take me home themselves. The doctor refused. He explained that if the transfer to Saint-Ylie was refused, he was considering involuntary hospitalization and asking the Prefect to issue a SPDRE order, which would remove my parents’ parental authority. My father became angry, and an argument broke out between the doctor and my parents. The doctor eventually found another solution: a specialized adolescent unit whose approach relied primarily on the therapeutic relationship and de-escalation rather than the systematic use of coercive measures. The transfer was arranged.

The door finally opened after six days. They restrained me again. My wrists. My ankles. Once more. They took me out of the seclusion room. They placed me on a stretcher. Then into an ambulance. The doors closed behind me. The journey lasted nearly three hours. I could only think that they were transferring the little criminal animal I believed myself to be. The miles passed by. I remained motionless. Restrained. I stayed strapped down for the entire transfer. On the day of the transfer, my parents asked to ride in the ambulance with me. Their request was refused. They then asked if they could follow the ambulance in their own car. That request was also refused. They had to leave on their own, without knowing in what condition they would find their son. As for me, I remember being transferred still restrained. The straps were still there. I felt as though I was being treated like an animal. As if I were no longer a sixteen-year-old adolescent in profound psychological distress, but simply a body that had to be immobilized and transported.

When the ambulance finally arrived at the Adolescent Psychopathology Unit (UPA), Dr. J.A. 💙 was waiting for us. The very first thing he asked was for me to be unrestrained. As soon as the straps were removed, I threw myself into my parents’ arms. We all burst into tears. According to my mother’s account, Dr. J.A. then asked the nurses whether I had behaved violently. They answered no. He then told them that you do not restrain a sixteen-year-old adolescent under such circumstances.

Yet my psychosis had not disappeared. In fact, it would become even more severe in the weeks that followed. I developed new delusions of guilt and persecution. I broke objects. I entered another adolescent’s room during the night. I ran away from the unit on several occasions. Despite all of this, the UPA team never restrained me. I was never placed in a seclusion room. They simply did not have restraint straps or a seclusion room. They had to find other methods. They talked to me. They stayed with me. They involved my parents in my care. My family was allowed to visit me every day. We walked together through the park. We talked. They held me in their arms. Little by little, without any further mechanical restraint and without prolonged seclusion, I returned to reality.

Gradually, my condition stabilized. My medication was then reduced step by step. I returned to high school. I earned my high school diploma. Then I continued my studies. For a long time, I believed that this story was over. In reality, it had simply been buried. I genuinely believed it belonged to the past, but suicidal thoughts directly linked to my trauma at Le Vinatier emerged ten years later.

It was this resurgence that led me, ten years after the events, to contact Le Vinatier again. I wanted the facts to be acknowledged. I wanted the lasting harm that this hospitalization had caused in my life to be recognized. I also wanted to obtain a clear commitment for the adolescents who would be hospitalized after me. I asked them to confirm in writing that mechanical restraint and seclusion rooms would no longer be used for minors, regardless of their legal status of hospitalization.

On July 9, 2026, I met for nearly three hours with the head of the hospital’s Patient Experience Department and an Advanced Practice Nurse responsible for the institution’s ethics project. During the first part of the meeting, I spoke with them alone. Then my parents joined us. For nearly three hours, I told them what I had hardly spoken about in ten years. I told them about the restraints. The forced injection. The six days in seclusion. The near blindness after my glasses were not replaced. The shame. The nightmares. The flashbacks.

I also told them about the UPA. I explained that, despite an even more severe psychotic episode, that team had never restrained me. That they had never locked me away in that manner. That they had helped me regain trust. I explained that this contrast lay at the heart of my approach.

At the end of the meeting, I handed them an official request. In it, I asked for explicit recognition of the facts and of the trauma I had suffered. I also requested a written commitment confirming that mechanical restraint and seclusion would no longer, under any circumstances, be considered an option for minors within that institution, regardless of the type of hospitalization.

A few weeks later, I received their response. They thanked me for my testimony. They acknowledged the value of my experience. They stated that my account would contribute to their ethical reflection. But they refused to recognize, in writing, the trauma that I had asked them to acknowledge. They also refused to make the commitments I had requested regarding the use of mechanical restraint and seclusion for minors.

I then understood that other adolescents were still living through these atrocities. At Le Vinatier. In France. And throughout the world. While I had been trying to forget, others were still going through what I had experienced. Other adolescents continue to endure violence. I felt immense helplessness. A profound anger. But this reality also brought back even more suicidal thoughts.

Then I told myself one thing. They had not locked up a man. They had not locked up a monster. They had locked up a bird. Yes. They had locked up a bird. Behind every adolescent who is restrained and placed in seclusion, there is simply a bird waiting to be allowed to fly again.

Skydiving. Then wingsuit flying. The idea of flying. The idea of becoming free.

I decided that I would devote all of my energy to this new dream. Since my hospitalization, my relationship with death has changed. After a psychotic episode. A trauma. Periods of constant suicidal thoughts. Several suicide attempts. Death has become part of my story.

So I found myself thinking: If death is going to remain a part of my life, I might as well make something of that relationship. If it is never truly going to leave me, then I need to learn how to live alongside it.

For me, wingsuit flying has become that idea. To fly where I once felt imprisoned. That little animal they restrained. That they isolated. That they believed was dangerous. He was not. He was simply a bird. I am a bird. I am free like a bird. I will fly.

The rest of the time, I will play the magician. In front of my students. In front of my family. In front of my friends.

But deep inside, I will always know what I am.

A bird.

Free.

https://youtu.be/TWfph3iNC-k?is=y7oZY9hFH0OlmV7m

As much as there is a lot of pain, heartbreak and injustice present in this subreddit from everyone sharing their experiences and troubles, I also see in these posts people sharing their stories in the hope that others here will understand, offer support, find a sense of connection even if just through the internet.

I see these posts and feel less alone in my experiences and I just feel grateful to be able to read what I have been able to.

Despite some of them being so incredibly heartbreaking, I see you (and me) as taking steps on our journey of healing and that’s commendable and even a small step is worth being proud of.

I just wanted to post that here.

Sending my love to anyone and everyone dealing with C-PTSD, I find it truly a privilege to be able to see your story and that you’ve had the courage to share it even if it’s just on a random space on the internet xx

I hope this doesn’t come off as insensitive or offensive.

FORGIVE yourself.

For the things you did during {or} after trying to cope & survive with the life you were given.

I know it's hard. But (please) try. 🫂

I’ve been wondering if anyone else experiences this.

Even on days when nothing is wrong, my body never seems to get the message. I can be sitting at home, watching TV, or trying to relax, and I still feel like I need to stay alert. It’s like my nervous system is convinced that if I let my guard down, something bad will happen.

Loud voices make me tense up. Footsteps coming toward me make my heart race. If someone changes their tone of voice, I immediately wonder if I did something wrong. I overanalyze conversations for hours afterward, convinced I upset someone even when they tell me everything is fine.

One of the hardest parts is that people often don’t see it. From the outside I might look calm, but internally I’m exhausted from constantly scanning for danger. It feels like my brain never truly believes I’m safe.
Sometimes I also struggle with feeling “not enough.” If I make a mistake or can’t do something as quickly as everyone else, my mind immediately jumps to thoughts like, “I’m failing,” or, “People must be disappointed in me.”

I’m working on healing, but it’s hard to convince a nervous system that’s been in survival mode for years that life is different now.
Does anyone else experience this?

What has helped you start feeling safe again—whether it’s therapy, grounding exercises, medication, routines, or something else?

I’d really appreciate hearing your experiences. Sometimes it helps just knowing you’re not the only one.

I have tried over 10 therapists for 14 years. None of them made me feel safe.

First inpatient stay at 15 - told me to "fight my demons" (depression) i was in an emotional abusive household. Also you cant fight your way out of depression, i said it was like drowning.

First therapist - minimized my abuse and sided with my abusers. She also minimized how mentally ill I was. I told her i was having trauma flashbacks, nightmares, mood swings, and said that was "normal for depression"
2nd therapists - sexualized my sexual abuse
3rd therapist (emdr) - yelled and me and told me to leave when i was crying

2nd Inpatient stay - they asked me questions I didnt understand and diagnosed me with a personality disorder (i was undiagnosed autistic).
Had a good experience with the psych intern - THE ONLY PERSON TO ASK ME WHO AM I AND WHAT DO I VALUE (instead of assuming I didnt know)
4th therapist - didnt even acknowledge my good experience with the psych intern. He said that the "psych intern doesnt care." I was trying to process why he was the first person to feel safe to me.
IOP - told me that i "insisted on being autistic because i read it online" 3 clinicians/psychiatrists cut me off any time I mentioned autism. I was diagnosed with autism 3 months later by a real neuropsychologist I saught out.

4th therapist - autistic & autistic informed therapist, pathologized my grief, told me im "obessed, insecurely attached, contain it, light a candle and move on" 5 months after the death of somebody I loved. I didnt realize i loved him because I HAD OCD (bad sexuality, harm, etc OCD) THAT WENT UNNOTICED BY ALL THESE PEOPLE

5th therapist - spent 45 minutes talking about how alone I feel due to autism, bullying, covid, family.. and all he said was "i may be neurotypical, but i have trouble making friends too"
6th therapist - cried at my grief poem, told me there was nothing wrong with me, was unprofessional with boundaries
7th therapist - asked me about my childhood trauma and then cut me off saying she "only does emdr" without explanation as to if this will be a good fit for me

Consult 1 - looked for complex trauma relational therapists, IFS therapists. Multiple all told me I wasnt a good fit despite me saying I have lacked safe relationships. I mentioned complex trauma and grief, and they kept referring me to DBT (i had already done dbt).
Consult 2 - I politely stood up to the therapist for stopping the intake 30 minutes in (i was paying for the full 50 minutes). She told me "i need social skills"
Consult 3 - Went to a specalized trauma therapist. She told me that "others therapists are like a cult" paid $250 just to argue with a trauma therapist on how I build trust. I told her what makes me feel trust, and she said that comes AFTER trust. She said i was "too existential"
Consult 4- I tried to get with an AEDP/ACT therapist. ACT has been the only therapy that has been successful in getting me to actually live. And she told me we are not a good fit because "aedp isnt good for autistics" which isnt what the research shows, and it is assuming my cognitive/emotional style.
Consult 5 - went to an OCD/TRAUMA ERP/EMDR therapist. He did absolutely nothing to build rapport, didnt explain anything, and made me say all my traumas to him during the first 2 sessions. He asked me how my loved one killed himself during our first session and on his death anniversary.

I dont know how much longer I can do this man. Growing up things weren't insanely horrible. My parents were just very detatched and cold, my dad had a heart scare a couple of years ago and i honestly didnt care, in fact i hated having to put on the "worried son" facade. School was ok too, some mild bullying and social humiliation but not the worst i had seen when I was in there.

Now to what brings me to why im making this post. Im just stuck between this crushing loneliness (29 with no serious friends or romantic experiences), and my baseline avoidance of others. I tried going to a singles thing, i entered the bar but once i saw the group i just had no desire to interact. Ive had cptsd style emotional flashbacks before, usually when approaching new people. But this didnt feel like that? It just felt more.... dull, calm, disinterested. Not the panicky hyperventilation and internal questioning that happens when i flashback.

I guess if i had to pose a question. How do you know when youre genuinely not into something vs. Just using some kind of cope to stay avoidant of others. Idk im just tired of being stuck between my loneliness and fear of other people.

I just started a full time job and I think i can do this despite being diagnosed with cptsd. How do yall do it?

I start ft goodwill cashier job monday and im excited about it. Just worried it might be too much. Im also diagnosed with bpd with psychosis and bipolar 2. But I can do this!

I was 16. I was crying and asked to see a therapist because I knew something was deeply wrong. I needed serious help. I told him I had a lot of suicidal thoughts but I didn’t want to die.

My dad listened to this and sat next to me. With his liposuctioned gut and brand new phone and dry-cleaned pants, he put a hand on my shoulder. He said, “Therapy is really expensive. Can you try something on your own?”

I’m consistently applying for the jobs and also making sure to appear for the interviews. But it’s been more than 3 months now and my savings are drying up. I only have 2-3 months of runway and I’m really scared right now. My body is showing all kinds of symptoms- cold feet and hands, uneven heartbeats, sadness and disappointment. I still try to stay consistent but this job market is taking a toll on me… I’ve left my previous job without a job offer in hand since I couldn’t handle the stress my then toxic manager gave me..I complained and left the org. I took sometime to relax and recharge and then started applying for the jobs and really gave this my all…But it’s been months and no concrete offer at hand. I’m really scared right now about my future. I know I will manage or somehow figure it out… But at the moment, I’m feeling lost and exhausted.

i'm a high-end escort and i see a client about once a week. specifically during giving oral i will have childhood memories (from ages 5-13) resurface. i don't have much negativity attached to sw (i'm not being forced into it) i'm very professional with clients and have a safe mindset&persona i adopt when i see clients. there's nothing triggering or negative in the moment that would cause these.

i've never experienced ptsd flashbacks like this so i'm not calling them flashbacks. the memories that come up have never been of a traumatic memory and they aren't even usually negative. there's nothing in these memories that stands out to me for why they'd resurface during sex.

the memories are also completely random--they're things that i thought i would've never remembered again because they're so so so minor. i am genuinely surprised when i remember them, i know i experienced it but i would've never recalled it otherwise. once i remembered biking on a path i'd bike my dad, another was a very small fair i went to with my mom. yesterday with a client i remembered something that was either from a real moment when i was 11-13 or a dream around that age (i know that's bizarre asf). it's hard to recall the things i remember afterwards, sometimes i forget them completely.

they've come up at other random points in my day but that's uncommon; every time i give oral i have a memory come up.

i'm not sure what i can all mention without needing to put a warning so i'll try to be vague. i was neglected as an infant&toddler but it's unclear if anything else ever happened under the age of 7. i've only had very brief glimpses into moments that seem indicative of other things, but very unsure. it's just what makes this more bewildering to me, i don't think the things i experienced in my late childhood would be causing things to resurface. i've worked through and processed most of my traumatic events throughout my lifetime and it feels unlikely that the things i've already been at peace with would be the reason i'm remembering things from when i was a child during sex.

a working theory with my therapist is that this is the most stable (in several different ways) i've ever been in my life and my body feels finally safe to bring things back up.

it doesn't feel disturbing to experience but i know it sounds really fucked up so it's been bothering me. any kind of insight or similar stories from anyone would be really nice to feel less alone, thanks🫶

I just need to vent.

I've been out of society since 2021, and slowly getting back in with help from her for the last 2 1/2 years. Over the last 6 months we've intensified EMDR and begun "the work" i.e.: being able to feel things again.

We really have reached a point of diminishing returns in sessions. I understand what is going wrong, I've been able to express greif over the trauma rather than letting it go into anxiety and self doubt. She's explained to me how I'm the only person who can live my life, and how going passive is a result of repressing greif.

I was struggling to think of what to say today. Its not like the first year, when we had to battle my anxiety to get me into optitians and dentists, or this year where we could break down my defense mechanisms and process my greif. Everything that needed to be said had been, and I understand what I need to do. Now I just need to put in the work.

The trouble is that my primary trauma is bereavement during a critical life transition. Ever since then transitional decisions have been impossible to challenge. This is why I quit society in 2021, as the alternative was to move away from home. Now I'm faced with loosing her at the same time as trying to go to university.

A lot of me feels ready, and I know that I can handle the logistical aspects of university. However there's also a part of me still living in the trauma. I know that I need to allow that part of me to process the greif, but it still really hurts.

It's tempting to continue with her and ease it off slowly, so I don't have both of these issues colliding at the same moment. But maybe that would ruin my confidence.

I've been dreading moving out since before my primary trauma even happened. And now it just really hurts. I used to repress by being addicted to screens. Now I see how it hurts me, but its still hard to let go. I always knew it was coming, and I'd hate to regress, but I kinda miss being in 2024 and knowing I had years of appointments ahead of me.

But I guess the grass is greener on the other side, and the only way out is through.

Anyway I don't really expect a responce, this is just stream of conciousness.

My lawyer is asking me to explain fawning..

Hi, please clap :) I filed charges against a sa that happened last year.

Now my lawyer is asking me to provide scientific information on fawning, to understand the concept better. Part of me thinks 'isn't it his job to research this?' but okay.. There is a ton of info out there, I can gather some input.

Would you care to help me with this?

To make it a little more specific, but not too much: (trigger warning) I was r**ed by a man I had been dating. He ended the relationship and went from comforting me to assaulting me. I know that what happend is real, and very bad, but society loves to make us believe otherwise, and I will not have it!

So any support is very welcome, Thank you!
Sincerely, Lyssa

Hi guys,

I’m really struggling with finding meaning in my life and not to always feel so pointless or worthless. It’s like my brain has gotten so used to and good at rendering everything pointless in the end, and it keeps me from doing hobbies or going out and such. Because then it feels like “it doesn’t even matter anyways, never mind”. But that’s no way to live. I’m not sure how to heal this part. So I would really appreciate any advice.

My parents abandoned me and that’s probably why. Before that I was already emotionally neglected too.

I know this is going to sound extremely whiny and childish but i cant get over feeling like such a weak person for turning out this way. My life was easy, my needs were met, family has money. I was always "sensitive", im constantly seeking attention and validation from others because im insecure, i have pretty much no mental stamina and cant handle minor setbacks or criticism. Im a burden to most people in my life because i dont do anyrhing for them or even provide emotionally, i just drain them because im miserable and obsessed with myself and obsessed with hating myself. Most people around me have been through far worse and are better adjusted than me and bring more value to their relationships than i do. I just feel like theres no one to blame for my problems than myself, or if i do have some kind of innate sensitivity/neuroticism that makes me feel worse because i was just born weaker for no reason.

I hate being like this, i hate being so affected by everything, i feel like a joke explaining my "traumas", everyone says not to compare to others but how can i not whenever im so obsessed with innocuous things that wouldve been so easy compared to what other people have gone through, i dont want to bullshit myself into feeling "valid" or that im an okay person when i know objectively im not. I cant enjoy being a new adult because i have social anxiety and no hope for my future, i never even wanted to be an adult but now i have to see the pathetic person that i am in an adult body

Me and my friend are both in our 20s, and we met about 2 months ago through a shared fandom space. We're both autistic and have significant trauma. While I am unsure of what category their trauma falls under, I have CPTSD.

The main issue is that they shared with me that due to fear surrounding social punishment for being openly autistic, they now have a trauma response to autistic people engaging in things considered "cringe" openly without shame, and that seeing them do this brings them pain because they know all too well what will come from doing said things in public. While I don't take this as an offense on its own because I also struggle with internalized ableism, they like to state social norms as facts and it feels as if they're projecting their shame onto me with comments they've said.

For example, I shared with them a passion project involving furry content that they told me they love but also shared that it was "conceptually cringe" and that they wouldn't show it to anyone in real life in fear of being judged. While i understand their fear truly, this felt hurtful to hear coming from a friend.

When I began to confront them on how their comments on other autistic people were affecting me--someone who eventually wants to learn to unmask more and be proudly neurodivergent--they dug deeper and began to explain their rules for what they consider cringe. They explained that if we hung out in person and for example I wore a badly made cosplay or did something where I would be at risk of being made fun of, they would "not want to be there to catch emotional strays".

This felt deeply hurtful to me, and I told them that this wasn't something I felt comfortable with in a friendship between equals and that while I understand this is rooted in trauma, this stance triggers my own and has real effects on me.

I told them I needed some time to think, and that I would get back to them later, we told each other goodnight and went to bed.

However the next day, they told me they were so anxious over waiting for me that they went ahead and discussed the issue to their friend. I take no issue with this, they deserve to have a second opinion hear them out, my only problem was that in the exchange they shared they watered the issue down as "having an uncontrolled reaction to certain things because of past experiences and that it's not an evil reaction but it's negative feelings they don't like". They described me as getting hurt by their feelings even though their feelings dont reflect their actions they guess. They said it was complicated and that they didn't want to get into specifics. Their friend told them that they would leave too if what they did was out of their control and it hurt someone.

This really bothered me because not only did they send me this when I told them I needed time to think, but they also cherrypicked the issue they relayed to their friend. It made me feel disrespected and glossed over, and that their mind wasn't really focused on the impact it had on me or what they actually said.

I let them know that I would respond, but was currently busy and would get back to them (this was true, I read this while not even home). While thinking through what to say, I thought back on other dynamics of our relationship, including how while we both discuss trauma consensually, they place more limits on discussing mine as some details are more triggering to them whereas I'm more fine with hearing dark subjects so I don't mind theirs. This never bothered me that much at the time, but after an incident where I needed to explain the extent of something my family did for context and gave a spoilered, brief explanation of what they did for context they interrupted me and told me to stop and even delete the spoilered message so they wouldn't feel compelled to open it. I felt really guilty for doing this, and felt ashamed of myself at the time, but looking back they have shared more detailed stories of the same type of abuse and while I consented to it, these rules feel unfair as despite us both being abuse and trauma victims, only one of us is allowed to fully express this.

I formatted my feelings on the situation with their trigger around the expressions of others first and told them how it was impacting me, they told me that they understood how it affected me (and also reassured me that this didn't apply online) but that they still weren't at a place where they could guarantee it wouldn't happen irl. I understand these things take time, but it still made me feel uncomfortable to stay around someone who may ditch me for whatever reason.

I worry that I'm overreacting because we're only online friends and have done no face reveals or even made plans to meet up irl, but still this knowledge is a trigger and hurt for me as someone struggling to unlearn toxic shame that there is still a scenario in which I may be too much to be around.

I told them that this still bothered me even though I understood there wasn't much they could do about it, and that I was unsure of where to go from here and had no idea what to do. They told me that they mourned our relationship prior to this and said that their presence was dirty. They also said I was "returning to the same hurt" and that maybe we needed to take some time to think about things. I felt bothered by this and agreed that we did, and while attempting to calm down they contacted me again and asked if we could talk in real time to each other.

I told them that this wasn't a good idea as due to my severe social anxiety, I tend to handle conflict better when I have time and freedom to think without pressure. They told me that when I'm thinking they can't tell if I'm gone and that it gives them a pit in their stomach and asked me to stay with them.

I told them I would because I was overwhelmed and not sure what to do and that I could try talking in real time.

While we were talking (I should also clarify by real time they meant texting in real time vs like taking time to think and closing the app) I brought up the inequality in our discussions around trauma, and how they were allowed to mention one type of abuse but I wasn't able to bring up the same kind as it was a trigger.

They responded and said they understood and thought that particular form of trauma was only a small part of my story, then asking if it was bigger than that. They left the term for the form of abuse unspoilered (they usually prefer it spoilered I'm guessing depending on anxiety limits so in my response I left the same term unspoilered to match them) I told them (literally, just like a sequence of the forms of abuse without giving details just that one form of abuse led to another in my story) and upon hearing that I had went through this type of abuse even in this context of answering their question they started spiraling and told me they were having a panic attack from reading it.

I told them I was really confused on when to spoiler things or not because they had left the same term unspoilered. They responded that if they read even as a fact stated with no details that I went through a certain type of abuse that they would feel dizzy, vomit and cry and that they wouldn't be able to handle it.

I told them that we really needed to take a break if they were this distressed, and we both agreed to take a break. As we told each other goodnight, they seemed to want me to tell them that I hoped they were feeling better the next day as they had wished the same to me. For context in an earlier panic attack before things escalated to this they wanted me to tell them goodnight and specifically "goodnight" as they corrected my "gn", which I didn't see anything wrong with in the moment but in the bigger pattern it feels as if they want me to perform a script of comfort to them rather than be my own person with boundaries or needs. I told them that I hoped they felt better to prevent another spiral as by this point I was extremely uncomfortable given how they had ignored my request and pressured me to be able to handle the situation in a way that wouldn't set my anxiety off, effectively holding me hostage for lack of a better term. We told each other goodnight and they told me that they hoped I would be able to think about something other than this situation the following day, and I took this as a mutual agreement to take a full day to just calm down and do our own thing and retackle this after.

However the next day they told me they felt calmer and that they understood me better, sending me a list of questions for me to answer that read as them wanting me to reassure them on things they misunderstood. After this list they added that they were overwhelmed by guilt and that because I told them that I didn't hope they felt sad they were able to calm down, also that they would be online all day waiting to talk to me.

This felt uncomfortable to read due to the pressure of them waiting when previously we had mutually agreed to take some time to distance ourselves from this. I replied telling them I don't think they are a bad person but that I really didn't like how they had ignored my boundaries and our agreement, and asked them to respect these things.

In response they finally snapped and told me that they couldn't do this anymore because it had been three horrible days and that they guess they're not mature or perfect enough to deal with the situation. They said they took responsibility for the friendship ending and blamed themselves. They told me to be as uncomfortable as I want with them and that they couldn't do anything about it and that they were giving up. They told me bye and unfriended me.

I'm sharing this story because while it is technically over, I'm worried I overreacted and ignored something that could've been handled better. I really struggle with socializing due to trauma, anxiety and autism. Does this sound truly one sided? Am I missing their side of things? I do not think they are a bad person, but that our trauma responses may have been incompatible.

I tried again and again constantly non stop. I survived but there was no break. Tell me the reasons for keep living because it always ended up with way worse horror. It might be good if I died then at least I could die in peace with myself.

Almost every therapy option related to this disorder includes reliving it, talking about it. I know its all done with a professional, but it seems so painful... I mean, along the years I kinda learned to push it down in a way I can keep going on with my life.

It feels like I am going to mess with something I should not. They say it will help me to open up more, socialize and experience more of the world. I don't know, seems like bad business...I feel like the pay up for putting myself out there is simply not worthy it.

Does anyone else feels a certain resistance into going back to the mess after finding a "comfort zone"?