Skip to content 
*Please know that there is some distressing material in the following post that could possibly trigger my other PTSD folks.*
Well, I meant for this post to follow directly after the last one, but I’ve been caught up in moving my website to a different host, traveling home, pet sitting so I’m not at home, and spending inordinate amounts of time on the floor with my back. I used to get upset at myself, but now I am just realizing that life is like that sometimes. It throws curveballs and shit turds and any number of things your way and all we can do is our best. And like my psychiatrist says, “Please for the love of God, treat yourself kindly, Rachel.” So, I’m trying.
When my therapist first told me that I have PTSD, I literally laughed in her face (it’s not very nice, don’t do that to yours). But unbeknownst to me, PTSD does not have to come from combat or result from some egregiously awful trauma like assault or murder. It can literally happen after any traumatic or distressing event. And in my case, PTSD is closely tied with grief.
Most people, when they face something difficult (like the death of a pet or parent, a bomb threat at school, a car crash, a cancer diagnosis, a destructive weather event, etc.) are obviously, justifiably upset. They grieve what has happened, including all that entails: anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance (not necessarily in that order). Depending on the severity and the amount of trauma and any number of other factors affecting the person (like their personality, level of resilience, coping mechanisms, and emotional maturity), a person can grieve and struggle for days or weeks.
This is normal and healthy.
PTSD is like grief magnified. It’s when a person doesn’t allow himself or herself to process through what has happened to them. It’s when they avoid any and all thoughts of the trauma. These people will do anything to keep their mind off of the traumatic event. Sometimes they self-medicate with alcohol or other substances. Sometimes they leave wherever they are living. Sometimes they work themselves to death. Some find other things in their life that they can control, like eating (or not eating).
For me, the surest way to avoid my thoughts and feelings was to just stay busy. Work, work, work… but then spend time with people so I don’t have to go home by myself… and then when I am home by myself, do housekeeping or watch tv so that I have no chance of being left alone to think or feel…work, work, work. It was a constant, never-ending busyness that kept me functioning for the time being. But eventually, this backfired on me when years later I still had not processed through my grief.
This has happened multiple times now. When my dad left, I stayed busy taking care of the house and killing myself with school and not eating (it took a lot of energy to not eat believe it or not). When I found myself in a relationship that was emotionally, verbally, and sexually abusive. When my dad hung himself. When I lost my cat, my dad, and my grandmother in the span of a few months. When I had to stop dancing, which was the only thing in my life that had ever let me truly feel happy, like myself. My response was to simply ignore what had happened and stay ridiculously busy.
To be honest, I probably still would be avoiding thoughts of all of these things. Except I physically began to fall apart and I no longer had the energy, stamina, or ability to stay busy. And then the thoughts came and I had no other coping mechanisms in place. I lost my fucking mind. Literally. Multiple times.
And that’s when the therapist said, “I want you to go to a three-month intensive PTSD group course with these two amazing psychologists.” Another time, I ended up in residential treatment. Another, Partial Hospitalization Treatment (PHP). Hell, the other day I re-entered Intensive Outpatient Therapy (IOP) because I was worried I was losing my mind again. PTSD often comes with lack of sleep, nightmares, social withdrawal, emotional numbing, cognitive avoidance, intrusive memories, disturbing flashbacks, hyperarousal, suicidal ideation. All checked.
For me, losing my mind though also means dissociating…breaking with reality…doing things I don’t remember…doing things I would normally never do. PTSD and dissociation both are terrible, terrible. I admit now that yes, I have PTSD. Yes, I have problems – serious ones! Yes, I feel broken, unfixable.
But, I’m slowly working through things now. I’m forcing myself to think through the awful things that have happened so far. I’m letting myself grieve. I am recognizing my triggers and preparing for them. I have healthy coping plans in place. And it’s making all the difference in the world.
