I am about to get on my soapbox and rant…..if you are not interested in reading a rant….please, tune in tomorrow when I am feeling a bit more reasonable.
I am frustrated and discouraged by some counselors, lay people, acquaintances, webpages, memes, and others not specifically mentioned that try to over simplify Complex PTSD. It is Complex so has many parts relating to growing up with distortions, lies, terrorized daily, and generally living in insanity. I missed out on needed growth. I never achieved critical emotional/social milestones. I focused constantly on survival. My thinking was crushed and twisted to suit my abusers….that is right, more than one with many incidents over years. The formative years of my life was riddled with abuse of every kind emotional, spiritual, physical, sexual, social, and any other way to twist a child. Yes, I am aware that others had it worse than me. I get that. Do NOT try to over simplify a multifaceted problem. There is not a part of my life that wasn’t affected by the ongoing abuse. What one abuser didn’t do, the other one did. This abusive treatment put a huge target on my back that other abusers recognize and zero in on. I often don’t recognize when I am being abused because I am used to it. My abuser said, “I love you,” then treated me less than a servant. Servants get paid and days off. Slaves do not. I am still working DAILY at controlling my thoughts, reactions, and monitoring my anxiety. IT IS EXHAUSTING. There was a time in my life that I considered suicide to stop the madness. I saw no way out. My first counselor taught me I have other choices. There is a way for me to struggle out of this mess. He did not promise me a rose garden*. He positioned me for a fight for my life….to believe that thriving is possible in this life time for me. I accept that my responses are different. I don’t even comprehend what some people think of as a problem. My reaction may be “so – big deal.” My kids tried to get me to watch the show “Fear Factor.” I had no interest. I didn’t think the stuff was scary…mostly just gross. One of my kids pointed to the person standing on top of a bus driving down a road. I looked at it and said, “Take off the safety harness, then it is fear factor.” They were horrified by my response. They blurted out, “They might get killed.” My response….”That is fear factor.”