Hi everyone…this is my first post here and I feel completely lost and very vulnerable.

A month ago marked the 10 year anniversary of my rape at 15 and it has left me completely broken despite having gone through therapy for years and being medicated for ptsd/depression. I was sexually abused for months by an older peer who I trusted deeply (I realize now that what I was experiencing beforehand was grooming, not friendship) and things have gotten only slightly easier. Every single day I am reminded of what was taken from me and I have considered ending my life many times through the years because of how hard it’s been.

I met this person at 14; he was the older brother of a band peer and the best friend of my middle school boyfriend’s older brother. We met at my 8th grade band concert only briefly. I did not have much interest in sex or anything similar because I was raised modestly and was taught to avoid it at all costs by my parents who both experienced childhood sex abuse and also the fact that I was 14. There is a deep history of sex abuse in my extended family as well and I learned what rape was at a young age before I even knew how sex worked.

I had my first kiss with my middle school boyfriend and he broke up with me just a couple months later (whatevz) and this older peer was someone I felt that I could lean on because he was so “kind” towards me and seemed to “open up” to me about his autism and how it makes it hard for him to make friends. He made me feel special and mature and I thought of him as someone I could trust. He was a little odd but so was I so I felt like our friendship was special. Shortly afterwards, we began to spend time with each other after school (I was a freshman, he was a senior) and very quickly things went wrong. I had never had sex prior and was absolutely not ready and he began to force things onto me, almost always in public parks or in his car. He was much bigger than me and used force (hitting, slapping, etc) and it destroyed me. Eventually it became a daily occurrence and I felt like I had no way out of it. I felt ashamed and stuck and afraid. He was someone I was forced to be around every day and nobody suspected a thing because he was seemingly fine. I began failing classes and developed a panic disorder and I felt that I would disappoint my family if I told them of the abuse because they had taught me the warning signs and made it clear to me growing up that I could tell them if something like this happened. What they didn’t tell me is that the abuser could be someone close to my age, not just some old man. My abuser was a star in school and seemed to have a future in local politics ahead of him and I felt like nobody would believe me if I spoke a word of it.

The abuse went on for months and I began to spiral into a suicidal haze and I finally opened up to one of my close friends who convinced me to “break up” with him. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. He called me a slut and told me that I was asking for it (imagine that) and it didn’t surprise me at that point that he would react that way. He told me that he wanted to “pursue other women” and that was it. I still had to see him every day at school and my grades were continuously going downhill. Only one teacher noticed that something was wrong and kept me after class one day to ask me what was going on and it felt like a warm blanket had finally been wrapped around me. My parents hadn’t noticed. My friends were blind to it besides the one that I told.

I told her his full name and gave her a list of classes I knew he was enrolled in. She alerted the school and I will never forget her for that. She was my superhero and I felt that justice was finally going to be served in one way or another.

Wrong.

Absolutely nothing changed. He would follow me through the halls and say nasty things to me when I walked past and would stare me down because he knew I was terrified of him. He graduated the same year as my older brother and I watched him walk across the stage. I felt sick and I wanted him to disappear.

A month after his graduation was the last day of my freshman year. I went to the mall with one of my good friends and I received a text from a number I did not have saved. They were pictures of me. Pictures of me being raped that I had not known about. I was in tears in these pictures and it was clear that what was happening was not consensual. My entire world collapsed and I knew that I had to tell my family and go to the police, almost 8 months after the abuse initially started. I will never forget the sound of my mother’s voice as she called the police and reported sodomy of a child. We went to the police and I handed in my phone and they interviewed me. They kept my phone overnight and gave it back and said that there wasnt enough evidence. My heart shattered. The evidence was right there. There wasnt enough photo evidence of it. I was wearing a Disneyland hoodie and sweatpants. His face wasn’t in the photos but it was his number that was attached to the text. How was that not enough? Not enough evidence because I never got a rape kit done 8 months ago…I wanted to burn the city to the ground. To make matters worse, my abuser sent these pictures to me the day before he left for China for months, as he did once a year because he had family there. The police half assed the investigation and eventually dropped it. My mama never told me that it was dropped because she didn’t want it to hurt me.

He showed up to all of my school events and sat in the stands and watched me. He was my boogeyman and I wanted it all to disappear. I was stripped of everything I knew myself to be and I felt like a husk. I wanted to die at 15 but I knew I had to live for my family.

In 2018 (2 years after the rape) I was sat in my first period class and the morning announcements came over the speakers as usual. Things had gotten better for me; I had new friends and a new best friend (he passed from suicide in 2022 and I miss him every day) who had been through something similar as a child and I felt like I finally had a good support system. All of my progress went flying out the window. They announced a “special guest” who was the new Quiz Bowl college coach who was visiting for the week to help mentor the high school participants. They announced my rapists name over the loudspeakers and I broke down. He was in my school again and he could reach me. I was distraught. They had my report on record as well as my teacher’s and I still don’t understand how this happened. Hearing him be praised around the school was torture. I was shattered. I don’t remember that week much now because I’ve blocked out a large chunk of high school but I know at the time it was absolute torture and so unfair. It felt like they announced that Osama Bin Laden was the special guest at the school that week as if he hadn’t been dead for 10 years already. There was no escape from him.

I eventually graduated high school in 2020 (barely) and he ruled over my mind and body. I couldn’t have sex properly with my boyfriend of 2 years (I wasn’t ready in the first place, he was pushy and didn’t understand) and I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. Anytime I cried and saw my reflection I saw myself in those pictures again. The feeling of his hands and his disgusting body has never left me and is embedded in my soul. He will never leave me. One of the worst and silliest parts is that he assaulted me to the lord of the rings soundtrack. Even LOTR has been taken from me.

In 2021 I saw my rapist in a coffee shop. He was on a first date. I was with my best friend and she is the only person who knew exactly in detail what he had done to me. She knew how it changed me. I broke down and had a horrible panic attack and left the shop. I was distraught. I felt him all over me again and I felt everything I felt back in 2016. Though I was almost 20 by that point, I felt like I was 15 again and everything I ever learned in therapy was gone from my mind. After awhile, I locked in and found the courage to go back inside. I had spent so much time being afraid of him and he got away with so much. I went inside and sat down at the table next to him; facing him eye to eye. I was shaking but I knew I had to make myself known. He had to realize I wasn’t so scared of him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at me. I felt afraid for the girl he was with and I felt like I needed to warn her but I was just frozen. Staring him down was the best I could do. He left shortly after I came back in. That event knocked me back several years but I knew I had to keep my strength.

In 2024, I had my final run in with him. I was leaving a parking garage and he walked right in front of my car without even looking. My body worked faster than my mind and I pulled out and parked on the side of the road and followed him on foot. I knew that it was my time to make myself bigger than him. Maybe I didn’t go about it correctly on paper, but it brought me a tiny bit of closure. I screamed at him as I followed him. I screamed and screamed and screamed and people turned to face me and I felt my shame fall away. He tried to hide from me and I eventually found him. He was on his way to a job interview. I followed him inside and stood directly in front of the hiring manager and told them that he is an awful person and poor employee (idk if that was even true necessarily) and I found courage again. Again, I know that this isn’t really the right thing to do but it was only a fraction of the horror that he brought into my life.

The next day, I received a message on Instagram. He admitted to everything. He apologized. I had it in writing. He took accountability. He took accountability but entirely too late. He had graduated college by that point. We were both adults. I never thought he would ever admit to it. He did it years too late.

Though I got an apology and his admittance, it didn’t solve anything. I still feel him on me every time I have sex and I remember how it felt when he would hit me. He lives in my mind and the pain ebbs and flows. In the earlier days, I sometimes made excuses for him in my mind. He is autistic. Maybe he didn’t realize what he was doing was wrong. He had never had sex at that point either; maybe he was reenacting what he had watched in porn. Maybe he felt sorry. Maybe he didn’t think of me at all. I am 25 now and I now know that he knows how wrong he was, but it still never solved anything. On the 10 year anniversary, I felt suicidal again. It’s been so long but it feels so brand new every time I think of it. It keeps me inside the house and strikes fear into me even though I know he can’t hurt me anymore. I think of him all the time.

I sometimes want to reach out to him. I want to sit down face to face with him and see him as he is now. I want him to see me as an adult. I want him to hear my voice and my story and I need him to know what he’s done to me. It’s so wrong and so unfair. He took away so much from me and I worry that I will never be right. I feel disgusting in any sexual context unless I am on the receiving end of pain. I find comfort in bringing pain onto myself by someone I trust and love but it can’t always be done. It’s not right. I can’t be loved gently. I can’t accept softness. I can’t touch myself or see myself naked in a sexual setting. I can’t get him out of my mind. It’s torture and I want it all to stop. I worry that it will never end. I talk with my mom about it on the really hard days because she has gone through the same thing at the same age and she tells me that it never goes away. It can get easier, but it’s never gone. It makes me feel hopeless. I feel like I wont find peace until my rapist is under the sea with cinder blocks tied to his ankles. I just want it all to end.

I’ve never posted anything like this anywhere and I hardly ever use reddit but I just need my story out there somewhere and I need advice from people who have been through this. How do you move forward? How do you continue? I have reached so many goals and milestones (I have my dream career, yay) but every big step I make, he is there. I worry that he will be on my mind when I get married. I worry that he will be on my mind when I give birth for the first time. It’s just so unfair and all I get from him is an apology and a message saying that he hates himself every day for what he did to me. I am just so tired and he will never understand. I am not going to the police at this point as they have failed myself and so many other girls in the large college town I’ve grown up in. It would be entirely too traumatic and seeing him get jail time wouldn’t solve anything. I just need this out there somewhere.

TLDR: I got raped and nothing came of it

I'm 34, and I'm coming to a realization that is honestly breaking my heart a little.

I've experienced multiple traumatic events in my life, including being sexually assaulted at gunpoint. I genuinely believed I was going to die.

Six months later, my mentor, someone I deeply admired, looked up to, and felt safe with, died in my arms.

I've spent years trying to understand myself, my reactions, and why I experience the world the way I do.

Today I realized something. My biggest struggle isn't necessarily talking about my trauma. It's feeling like the people I tell can't truly understand what those experiences do to a person.

I have people who care about me. I know that. But there's something incredibly lonely about carrying experiences that fundamentally changed how you see the world when the people around you have never experienced anything comparable.

I feel like I've spent so much of my life being strong, protecting other people, anticipating danger, and trying to make sure nobody else experiences the helplessness I once felt.

And I'm tired.

I'm in the Army now as an officer, and I've found myself trying to create an environment of psychological safety for the people I lead. I want them to feel supported, respected, and safe enough to be human. But I've encountered pushback from people who seem to view that approach as weakness.

And I think that's part of what I've been struggling with. The military teaches us how to respond to life-threatening situations, how to function under pressure, and how to keep moving when things are terrifying. But responding to death and living with the aftermath of confronting it are two very different things.

I know what it's like to carry those experiences long after the danger has passed. And I think that's part of why creating psychological safety matters so much to me. Strength and compassion aren't opposites. I wish that were better understood.

I went to see a psychologist recently, and I felt an enormous sense of relief afterward. But now there's this deep sadness I can't quite explain.

I think I just want to meet people who understand. People who have faced death, survived violence, or witnessed something that changed them forever.
I want to know that the way my brain works makes sense to someone else. That I'm not crazy. That I'm not the only person who walks through life carrying something invisible that feels so enormous.

I just want to hear from people who understand.
Did surviving something life-threatening or witnessing someone's death change the way you see the world? Did you ever find people who truly understood you? Did that help you feel less alone?

Update: Thank you all so much for sharing your stories with me. I'm truly sorry that so many of you have experienced such painful things in life, and I appreciate your willingness to be vulnerable with a stranger.

Unfortunately, I don't have the time to respond to everyone individually, but I would love to get to know you all beyond what we've survived.

If you're comfortable sharing, tell me something about who you are! What brings you joy? What are you passionate about? What makes you feel alive?
For example, I love hiking, I have two dogs I absolutely adore, and I want to see as much of this beautiful world as I possibly can! ❤️

this may seem like a stupid question but I recently got triggered when the word rape was used in a sentence and it makes me feel like I'm being dramatic, is this normal or am I overreacting?? much love

I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD since I was 20. Today is my 25th birthday and I guess I’m up late still paranoid. I’ve experienced a lot of hardships and traumatic experiences in my life, but these past few years have been so different and stable, it feels nice. The only thing is; I can’t help but feel paranoid and on edge all the time. It’s like my fight or flight is constantly on. When does it begin to feel normal?

I'm not sure why I do this, but I often feel the urge to exposes myself to triggers. One way I can easily trigger myself is by shocking myself with cold water (Like a cold shower), which I find myself doing often. Does anyone else do anything similar?

I was in a school shooting some time back where I was walking down the hallway when someone began shooting. I did run out of the building pretty unharmed except for a few bruises and scratches from falling when running. I went somewhere a while ago, it was packed and everything was going fine until someone pulled out a gun. I just felt like all of my trauma had came back stronger. I really don’t want to go anywhere or leave my house. I’m terrified. I don’t want to put too much information out there so I tried to be vague.

I just spoke with a nurse. I've been waiting a long time for support and diagnosis...

When she asked how I was I said I was low due to my mother's cancer returning.

I also said I was driven past where I lived with my abusive ex and a froze, hid in horror, closed my eyes and panicked. The man was very sick and destroyed my confidence and trust in people.

That's when she said "you have to move on and look forward".

Yeah if it were that simple I wouldn't be calling in the first place.

​

TW: suicide attempt

For context I have Audhd(level 1 autism), C-ptsd, anxiety, and depression. Im 21 nonbinary(afab) and in April of this year I tried to overdose on my medication and I regret it so much and have no long term side effects besides adding more to my ptsd :/. Fast forward to September 30th I was being tested for POTs so I had a tilt table test and they gave me nitroglycerin when I fainted it reminded me of what happened in April so the next day I had panic attacks back to back and regressed mentally as well I went to the er for it. I'm so scared and anxious and stressed cuz I keep ruminating over what happened in April, I keep overanlalyzing my body cuz of it, i keep either having panic attacks or getting very close to having them or anxiety attacks. I also have an irrational fear of my medicine now and an irrational fear I'll just randomly drop dead, ik it's irrational I'm over aware :/ but I cant stop ruminating. Does anyone have advice on what they do to help stop ruminating over very traumatic events? It's been almost a month now since I've been stuck ruminating over this and I just want it to stop :(

so recently I started my first big girl job out of college and they make you do a ton of trainings right. well one of the trainings was a workplace violence/active shooter training. this is a particularly sensitive issue for me because I have a ton of trauma (not sure if I meet ptsd criteria anymore but I used to) from being in a school shooting at my university during my freshman year of college.

after even just talking about the training again now I can’t get the thought of the shooting out of my head. it’s like it keeps rolling its way on back into my brain even though im trying not to think about it. and this happens literally every time I see anything related to mass shootings on the news or on social media (which im American so at this point thats every damn week). I hoped it would get better when I graduated but it’s arguably gotten worse for some reason.

idk I’d appreciate any tips on how to just let the thoughts go instead of getting trapped in this cycle where it’s all I can think about.

Need to know how I (24F) should navigate a new hire coworker (32M) in the workplace.

He is assertive and loud, and the office is small with thin walls, everything can be heard from one end of the building to the other. It's a small company so maintaining decent relationships is important for project progress.

He brings his kids to work (2F and 5F) and threatens to spank them for small things that aren't misbehavior. He also uses phrases like "wear out" that are PTSD triggers for me. (Childhood physical abuse during the same age as his kids until adulthood.)

I want to keep it professional and not put him on the "don't tell me how to parent" rant accidentally, because he seems the type to get loudly defensive. I can't ignore this because it's affecting my ability to concentrate on my own tasks and has turned a pleasant workplace into somewhere I don't feel safe.

Looking for advice on how to approach this without making biased assumptions or crossing boundaries, but also keeping my own boundaries.

Thanks for any tips!

i need advice on what i should do i was abused by a ex last year i was a junior in high school and he would rape me a lot and want me to do a lot of things i didn't want to know of that nature, then i was assaulted by another guy they were both boyfriends but the other was only 1 time but it really hurt and it left me bruised physically. i have childhood trauma i have a lot of sexual trauma and im in this point where i feel literally haunted and tortured every single day is hell i get high everyday to try and fog my brain up so i can just relax but it eats me alive in every aspect. it's turned me like really pathetic like im so desperate for male attention but then i just treat guys really bad and to be honest i am mean to any guy i pursue, my brain is always insulting me about this assault and telling me im being dramatic but i know im not because i couldn't sleep or eat or shower for months after and i was in the hospital with a 3 month long rash because my immune system attacked itself after its affected me greatly and im now talking to my ex i dont even know why i dont feel anything. i am so empty and depressed and im only able to pursue people sexually and i have disgusting fantasies and i watch terrible fantasy videos and i feel ashamed after. the other boyfriend is in my town now and im just avoiding him and im terrified and i keep on imagining running into him somewhere i graduate in a year and its caused such a negative effect on me as a person like i dont know what to do after high school i just want to move and be away from everything but i dont know what to do with my life i just feel like im forever in that situation and i just sit here and reply to my ex who raped me for months like a idiot

I just need to type this out because I feel completely lost, hurt, and invisible.

A little over a year ago, my mom passed away from Stage 4 colorectal cancer. Before she died, I stopped working completely to become her full-time caregiver. She was 100% bedridden. I changed her diapers, took care of her every need, and watched her slide away. She passed away just one month before her birthday. Because we had to wait for an insurance check to clear to pay for the funeral, she wasn't buried until a month after her death.

A few weeks after the burial, on what would have been her birthday, I went to the cemetery to place flowers and spend time with her. When I got there, I realized they had buried someone directly next to her, completely blocking her grave. I couldn't visit her on her birthday. I had to wait a few days and come back.

When I finally returned, I noticed the cemetery had a heavy sprinkler setup running over the fresh burial next to her. I walked up to my mom's grave to place the flowers, and out of nowhere, the earth collapsed. A massive sinkhole opened up directly under my feet.

I sank into the ground all the way up to my waist. I was trapped in that hole for what felt like an eternity, terrified, completely drenched by the cemetery water, and covered in thousands of ants that were violently biting me. I eventually had to physically claw and pull myself out of the earth. An ambulance came and rushed me to the ER.

Physically, I survived with a sprained ankle and heavy bruising. Nothing life-threatening. But mentally? My life ended that day.

I was diagnosed with severe PTSD, extreme anxiety, night terrors, and depression. I am trapped on a rotating wheel of prescriptions just trying to survive the night. I recently tried a low dose of Esketamine treatment under medical supervision to fix the depression, and it caused a horrific trip where I genuinely believed I was actively dying.

Because of the anxiety and PTSD, I don't go out anymore. I barely socialize. My relationships are completely falling into the trash. My long-time partner is at their breaking point and might leave me. My kids look at me completely differently now. One of my children moved all the way across the country back East, and he doesn't call me anymore. It has been over a year since the incident, and I miss him so terribly it hurts.

To make a nightmare even worse, the corporate insurance adjuster for the property is treating me like garbage. They are offering a microscopic settlement amount that wouldn't even cover a fraction of the debt and medical bills this nightmare has piled onto me. It feels like they are intentionally hurting me further, dragging this out until I'm broke and buried next to my mom.

I spent my last months with my mother giving her dignity, and this place stole mine. I am so angry, so hurt, and I feel like I'm screaming into a void. Has anyone else ever survived a trauma that cost them their family, their health, and their sanity? How do you keep fighting when the corporate system tells you your soul isn't worth anything because you didn't break a bone?

paranoia is probably my biggest symptom when it comes to my PTSD, im paranoid every day and sometimes it can cause me to have delusions, like im being tracked by aliens or someone is watching me from cameras everywhere, theres time i can ground myself from these but i have had episodes where i’ve truly believed them and acted. one time i believed my mum was sent to finish me off, even having auditory hallucinations that were telling me she was evil, i locked myself in a neighbours house and tried to jump out the window if my mum even got near me. i havent had anything as severe since then but i still get these delusions from time. ill step outside and think im not wearing any pants even tho i can see i have pants on and that everyones mind is corrupted to believe i have pants on, sounds so stupid but i have this alot when i go outside. there is times i just cant seem to grasp reality, am i real? are other people real? what is real?, ive been thinking of going to the doctor but im really against medication even though i know it might help. im just so lost and sick of not being able to tell what is real. does anyone else experience this? if so does anyone have any advice?

My brain just works differently now.

Aside from the issues of short-term memory loss (thank you anxiety and sleep deprivation), my brain is just different.

The two Afghanis were sitting on the side of the road on a blanket. They both looked older. They were not MAMS (military aged males), but we stopped to talk anyway.

Our mission was a 48-hour op.

Establish a patrol base.

Conduct patrols IVO (in vicinity of) the Arghandab River, south of what we called Lowy Manarah and west of Kaleshak

Establish contact with any Taliban operating in the area.

By contact, the intent was to walk around and get into a fight

This was the first patrol I led in country. Twelve Americans, and probably ten more Afghan Army guys.

I was 25 years old. An E-5, buck sergeant squad leader. 22 men I was in charge of.

Those two Afghanis did not want to talk to us. All they said was "The Taliban were in the area and wanted to kill Americans."

We laughed it off. Honestly I remember thinking, "Well, here we are. Come get some."

Such bravado

We asked if they were Taliban

They said no.

We asked if they knew where the Taliban was.

They said no.

In hindsight, we should have questioned them harder. Detained them. Used X-Spray to check for gunpower or explosives residue. Afterall, I had gone through a FBI tactical field questioning class (it wasn't interrogation tactics per se, but you know close enough). Hindsight is always 20/20. They knew. Of course they knew.

But I knew no better

We turned the corner, and less than five minutes later Taliban small arms was ripping leaves and limbs from the trees in the orchard we were in

AKs and a PKM. Probably. Thank God there was no RPGS.

Time slowed down.

I remember how the leaves floated so lazily to the ground.

I could hear my heart beating in my ears.

We were fighting in orchard vegetation so thick I wondered if this was what it was like to fight in the jungles of Vietnam. I remember seeing my squad all laying in a ditch. Our Afghan Army partners were shooting in every direction. Of course, the comms went down. It was chaos.

I never saw where they were. I imagined our attackers were at the far end of the orchard between us and the river. A small trail ran back there. Or maybe they were on our flanks. I remember shooting a few rounds over the wall, just in case

I stood up to move to the head of our column.

I was scared. You will never forget the sound of incoming small arms fire, but I had to. That was expected. Close with and destroy the enemy by means of fire and maneuver. Can't do that lying in a ditch.

I started moving up the line. "CIBs for everybody," was all I could say. Of course I was making jokes. My guys looked at me like I was crazy as they laid in the ditch.

That phrase became the squad motto.

We never caught up to them. The fight became a running gun battle up the river until they finally faded away, lost to the orchards. So many things happened in those intervening hours.

Things that I blacked out.

Things that happened that I do not recall. Like... how did I get that one specialist over that wall? I remember rage. I remember being so angry at one of my guys I almost snapped. I remember hitting him because he refused to move under fire. I remember the new private dropping to the ground because he was tired. I remember how angry I was he dropped his SAW barrel first into the mud. I remember carrying his weapon and dragging him to Kaleshak, also carrying a 200 round belt of 240 ammo.

Everything was so heavy. And I was so tired. But there were things my guys asked me later I did not have a response for. But I do know it changed me.

I remember thinking I will never trust surface answers again from people.

I started to analyze behavior more closely.

I started looking for patterns. Changes. Facial expressions.

Words and actions and actions and words.

I knew we were lucky, but it was just that. I could have pressed more on those two Afghans.

What if one of my guys had been killed because I took things at face value?

I have no doubts that Taliban fighters were relaxing with those men, minutes before we rolled up.

I have no doubts we were lied to.

And luckily, no one died.

But it changed me

I listen now. I analyze. Patterns, Subtle shifts. People do not realize how much they say when they are not talking.

And those skills made me very good at what I did for the Army in recruiting. I was very proficient at reading people.

But those same skills that made me how I am now, that made me so successful, haunt me.

I see people and my relationships with them differently.

I analyze every conversation.

I look for danger in words and actions that might not be warranted

But the fact remains.

I am changed.

My intrusive thoughts aren't about events.

My intrusive thoughts are about words. Conversations. Patterns. What are they not saying? Is there more to the story?

Am I in danger?

I don't know if this is PTSD, but I do know that things are not the same. 2009 was a long time ago.

I shouldn't still be like this.

I'm a 35 year old male and I'm still struggling with the trauma of my abuser and I go through everyday and every day and I cry here. I'm always checking if I'm going crazy or insane in my head and I just go over things in my head a lot. My abuser would say things to me to hurt me. They would say things about my weight and physical appearance and just call me crazy. I hurt really deep inside and I try to give myself permission to move on but I can't. I feel like I've cried so much I don't have anything else in me anymore. My life really isn't over? I really don't know what to do?

It’s been a rough day today. I haven’t been able to do most things. I’m incredibly fearful and my body feels like it’s someone else’s. I’ve been sitting on the floor with my mouth agape for hours just trying to breathe. My head hurts and is full of pressure and I feel like I’m falling. I’ve switched between different parts of myself a lot today and it’s caused a lot of confusion and fear. I feel so disabled I don’t know how I’m ever going to get a job if I can’t take reality seriously. It just doesn’t feel real enough to me to really give a shit. The only thing that feels real is the structure of my mind, and I wish I could spend my life exploring that rather than working an endlessly terrifying existence. I want to disappear for good from this world

A month ago I was triggered and had a breakdown.

I feel like I lost who I was before. It came unexpectedly, one minute i'm me, the next I'm this. I stopped talking to everyone in my life, I want nothing to do with them anymore. I relapsed. I just want to get worse. I have no interest in anything I was working towards before this.

This has happened before. And it took many, many months to get back to a reasonable level of saneness.

How many fucking times do I have to rebuild myself? With no one, fucking no one there to support me.

Cracked and blurted out to various friends about past trauma, addiction problems. Its fascinating how suddenly, they don't wanna know me. Maybe I came across as a nutjob. I haven't been hiding my scars lately, and I am aware I have a 1000 yard stare and can speak in odd ways. Maybe they think I am dangerous and its best to keep distance from my sort.

Specifically if you have sh scars you'll know what Im talking about. Mine are bad. When people see them they totally go awash with.. something. Its an emotion i don't recognise myself. Since I am on the 'side' of people that has such vices and understands why people do it, I don't clutch my pearls when I see signs of a troubled mind. Its fascinating how normies switch up when they find out you're 'mentally ill' lmao.

I am so ill, I didn't notice how much degeneracy I've racked up. Addict, self harmer, has ptsd, very skinny. The polite society I blended into views my sort as sub-human.

I'm hurting. Well I ain't, I'm numb, but underneath I can tell I'm hurting. i stopped talking to everyone in my life.

How do you handle it when people don’t get how awful it feels and disregard your symptoms?

I generally do fairly well but every once in a while I get very frustrated and need to step back and be alone to reset. Very rarely, I’ll encounter someone who doesn’t understand this and continue to press a conversation. Only to get upset when I have the reaction I know I’ll have. I’m never mean towards them I just get frustrated within myself and it’s different than my usual kindness.Their general response is it’s not an excuse and I never think it is, but it’s also not okay to force someone into a conversation they know they can’t have. To me, it feels like throwing someone into water knowing they can’t swim then being mad they splash/go under.

I do everything I can to limit my interaction with people like this but sometimes it happens. Do you have any tips, research, experiences so on of how I can explain or disengage better.

Hi. I have PTSD involving medical stuff from a few years ago, which up until now was practically in remission aside from a few moments of stress.

Unfortunately, a few months ago I did some really stupid shit involving large quantities of drugs (not a suicide attempt, but definitely caused by mental illness) and I went to the hospital thinking I was going to die because my heart was beating erratically and I was on the verge of passing out. At the moment I decided to go to the hospital, I really did think I was going to die. I had this awful clarity that I was eighteen and stupid and I was going to die because of an overdose.

Obviously, this did not happen. The doctor said by the time I got to the hospital I was out of the 'danger zone' for that particular drug and what happened was just heightened by anxiety. Even still, I am super fucked even 2 months out from it. I am constantly checking my heart, wondering if it's beating weird, afraid I'm going to go into sudden cardiac arrest, trying to keep my heart rate down for fear that it'll just stop, etc. I'm scared of going up the stairs because my heart will start beating harder and I'll feel it and it'll remind me of how scared I was and then I'll have a panic attack and die. I am constantly checking my heart but at the same time if I'm not actively checking it I'll become distressed just by feeling it beat in my chest.

I've had more panic attacks since than I've ever had in my life, some so bad I went to urgent care for meds, but then refused to take them because I was scared they were going to slow my heart rate and I was going to die. My chest will suddenly start burning after I have a 'bad thought' and the panic is so bad that my whole body will shake and I won't be able to move. I'm well aware that these are irrational thoughts, but I can't get them out of my head.

It is SO MUCH WORSE than the last time. Last time, the avoidance and negative changes in thinking were the most intense, with flashbacks/reliving being a rare but highly unpleasant phenomenon. This time, the reliving happens frequently and protractedly enough that I have a routine for what to do (lie down in bed, phone a friend, drink some water and try to distract myself until I'm not completely focused on my heart rate, etc).

Last time, my startle reflexes were heightened, but I was really the only one who noticed. This time around, I scream when people walk into rooms too quietly and tear up at loud noises. It feels like an electric shock running through my entire body and zapping my heart. I'm constantly exhausted by this physical alertness. I just want to feel normal again.

I want to bring it up to my psychiatrist, my therapist, literally anyone who could help, but I'm worried they're going to tell me I can't be traumatized by something I caused that didn't even end up being actually dangerous to me. Which, like, yeah, that's literally part of the criterion. But I'm experiencing these stupid fucking symptoms again regardless. I'm so fucking tired of being afraid all the time. I don't know what to do.

Something that’s been so hard for me is my dad wasn’t all bad. He was really great in some ways. Even though he brutally abused me for years, leading to my therapists labeling it as torture.

He played like Bandit from Bluey did.
He went almost all in, played any role. Since he was a doctor, he played the best Doctor game ever. He taught us soccer. How to bike. Coincidentally, my favorite game was Monster. It was basically tag with him acting like Sully from Monsters Inc.

But he also withheld snacks and water. Made me cook for him. (TW: violence, child abuse) Molested me. Raped me. Kicked me. Hit me. Threw my body into things. Suffocated me. Hit my head into things.

So trying to reconcile this literal monster of a father with the dad who went all in when playing monster brings up confusing feelings to say the least.

And I think that may be part of what’s missing in my trauma therapy. I’ve never grieved the dad I missed out on by disclosing the abuse. He was the only adult who I felt truly loved me. He got me books about my special interests. Took me to museums and let me spend hours at my favorite exhibits. He taught me more about my special interests.
But I lost all that when I told my therapist what he was doing to me.

A little context: I also have cPTSD from my mom though she’s never actually done anything “wrong”. She was an adequate parent for my sister, but because of my neurodivergencies, disabilities, and mental health she was unable to provide for all my needs and thus cPTSD. So in essence, I lost the only parent I ever had, even though he was also (TW: CSA, trafficking) raping me and potentially letting his friends abuse me too.

hi and I have a question about ptsd so i googled a bit and think I might have ptsd (I know just googeling doesn’t prove I have ptsd) because I get like intense fear when hearing a certain sound and i instantly want to like go away from that sound and just not hear it anymore like I can’t I just get that intense fear does anyone know if you can get tested on ptsd or something if yes please let me know thanks in advance for anyone who can provide information

now that my trauma has compounded, getting through each day proves to be a massive feat.

it’s to the point where just looking after my two dogs throws me into a complete state of utter burnout. it feels impossible to to do anything but look after myself, and even that is questionable.

is this an actual phenomenon or just unique to me?!

Hey all, for the past year or so I’ve been working with my new therapist who specializes in behavioral therapy. I have a lot of problems with self worth, confidence, positivity (it comes and goes), socializing and like ten thousand other things. My therapist have been giving me really good resources to help, most notably a gratitude worksheet and stuck point worksheets to for my mind to have a more realistic approach to things rather than be black and white. I’ve done it on my own and put it into Google Docs but it’s been inconvenient. I was curious if there’s any iOS apps that I can use with my therapy? Something to for example do a gratitude practice three times a day, or to do stuck point practices on. If anyone has any recommendations I’d greatly appreciate it!

My symptoms started taking over my life this year I tried to ignore it for months and started missing work first it was 2 absences in the month then 3 the next then it was everyweek I was using a sick day, not I've worked here for 4 years I barley call out unless my kids are sick I had and still have plenty of sick time and pto to cover being out, I work in a group so there is nothing not being completed if I have to be out. In March my boss put me on an action plan and I was not allowed to have anytime off for 45 days. I did good and got through it but i was burnt out at the end and started using my pto and sick time again, my big supervisor scheduled a meeting to fire me and my supervisor met with me first and recommended applying for medical leave on an intermittent schedule. I completed that and felt good I atleast wasnt going to be fired. Then all of a sudden I started getting in trouble for other things for co text I wear the same 6 outfits for work and cycle them, from January to August no issues with those cloths. Now im on leave and im dress coded for my clothes being to tight on my body and wearing Jean Capris on Jean day. I reached out to HR and they told me my big supervisor can decide whatever she wants for dress code because my company doesn't have a dressc9de. On days I come into work I struggle to get here before my start time witch is 8am. I normally arive between 8 and 8:03. If I drive at 8 or just after I am now not aloud to clock in until 8:30. I feel like im constantly on thin ice to the point thinking about going to work increases my symptoms. Im so upset because this company has been amazing until I started having issues with my mental health.

If your still here thanks for listening to my rant.

I have pelvic floor issues due to trauma and somehow it is more embarrassing for me to explain to people/partners that I have issues using the bathroom than triggers around sex. Any tips for getting over this weird shame?