PTSD

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is something I wish would go away forever. It's one of those things you don't hear about a lot (well at least I hadn't really heard of it), but when you do finally hear it you want to know everything about it. When you read stuff about it, you realize it's a mental illness...and that scares people.

As I've already said, I wasn't sure what PTSD was until I was told I had it. Sometime in September I started getting these horrible panic attacks, I would constantly have nightmares, I was depressed, and I didn't want to be around people. I just thought I was becoming bitter. I figured "Welp, this is how it's going to be. I'm going to be a basket case who hates people and ends up with 47 cats as her only companions." I had accepted it to a point and it didn't really bother me. 

The first panic attack I ever had really freaked me out. I remember it very well, and I could probably give a very detailed description of what went down. It was over nothing, really. I was sitting in seminar and we were talking about some of our assignments for the semester.  Anyone who has ever had to sit through a college class knows this can be stressful. I'd done this so many times, though, that I was surprised at the reaction my body had. My heart started racing, I couldn't breathe and my chest felt like it was in a vice. That was honestly the scariest sensation I have ever experienced. When you get physically injured, you know what to expect. You know you'll have aches and pains, you know you'll probably need to take medication to deal with it....it seems almost obvious.  When you're injured mentally and emotionally, though, it's like you don't even realize there's a problem. Was I expecting to have this much of a reaction to everyday stress!? No way! Every time I would have one of these stupid things I would have to grab on to something (usually a table, one time it was Little Whit's hand bless her heart. I think I cut off her circulation) and try to breathe it out. When people would see me have one or would hear I'd have another one they were mainly worried. Sometimes, though, I would hear "next year you're going to have to teach on your own and won't be able to walk away when you need to. You need to pull it together." Do you know how irritating that is to hear? Do you really think I didn't realize I needed to pull it together? Maybe instead of pointing out the obvious and making me feel like I was being ridiculous, you could have supported me a little more. Thinking about that statement and how many people I heard it from still makes me angry and irritated towards those people, even though it hasn't been said in months.

Another issue I had were the nightmares. I still have them on occasion, but I kid you not for 2 months I had them almost every night. Sometimes it would be a replay of my rape, and I would wake up and just be really uncomfortable and sad. Most of the time it was this weird nightmare where my rapist would appear everywhere. He was the cashier at Walmart, the clerk at the hotel, the security guard at the mall, a professor at my school.  There was another one where I was walking through the mall with this 5 year old boy asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up.  As we discussed his dreams and goals for the future, he started slowly aging until suddenly he was the guy who raped me. Those two nightmares were ones that would send me thrashing in bed. I would wake up to hear screaming and realize it was my own. I think the reason that those two bothered me more than the flashback, is that the flashback was one small moment in time. The other two nightmares reminded me that he's still around, and that I'll always have to live with what happened to me.  It reminded me that he could still find me at that time if he really wanted to, and I didn't like that fact that he consumed my thoughts.

I cried a lot in those first months. I usually did it by myself, hiding in my room so that people couldn't see or hear me. One day during the week I was having such a hard time that I broke down in my car in front of a friend. We ended up being late for internship because I just couldn't reign myself back in, and I think that's when I (along with several other people) realized I wasn't as OK as I was pretending to be. I was really good for awhile for putting on a show. My motto was "Fake it till ya make it" and I was awesome at it. I could smile and make it look real, I could make myself laugh and talk and be pleasant.  When I didn't absolutely have to be around people, though, I would lock myself in my apartment and ignore everyone. If my roommates were home, I was in my room sleeping literally all day. If they were gone I would lay on the couch and zone out.  I had issues with people touching or hugging me without warning me first. I would flinch and I'd get weird looks. I didn't feel like explaining, so I would just walk away and hide. And as much as I kept to myself and ignored everyone, I desperately wanted people to come look for me and ask if I was OK. I wanted people to call and check in on me. No one ever did, but who can blame them? I was being anti social and they were doing what I actually asked which was to leave me alone. I didn't know how to verbalize that I wanted help.

Another thing that I experienced with my PTSD was the constant need for affection of some sort. I always wanted a hug, I always wanted to hear "I love you", I always wanted to be checked up on, I wanted to be reassured that people still loved me and wanted me around. I have NEVER been like that in my life, and it was so frustrating to suddenly need all of these things. I had severe anxiety about people deserting me, especially after losing so many friends, so I knew why I was feeling this way. It sucked because I felt like a little kid. I felt like I was constantly looking for attention which wasn't really my intention. No one ever complained or mentioned anything about it, if they even noticed, which I am extremely thankful for....but now that I think back on it I was a freakin WHINER. Someone should have punched me yall!

PTSD is something that's very real.  A lot of people have different experiences with it. It's something I still struggle with from time to time, but it has definitely gotten better. The important thing to remember is that people who deal with PTSD really cannot control what they go through. Be patient, be understanding and most importantly don't judge. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who mostly understood the things I needed to hear and feel, and I believe that truly made a difference.