PTSD A Recurring Suck fest of Fun.

I have to face a sad fact tonight. I am not the brave chick I thought I was. I have not been the smartest cookie in the box of Nilla wafers. I have coped with my issues as best I could, but I have lied to myself to save face, to keep trudging. Tonight I attened a womens group for Domestic Violence. I have shared my story many times in public and in theraputic settings. I rarely cry about it, because it is the past and not much can be done about it. Its done. Whining doesnt fix it. Learning about why I do the things I do is what I try to focus on. Solutions not problems.


I think I am fairly brave and strong. When I am standing in front of a crowd telling my story, or at an art show, selling my Jewelry, I have no problem. I traveled the world alone in my previous career as a cruise agent.

Sail to Southampton on the Queen Elizabeth II and take the Orient Express to London, Chunnel over to Paris and Jet home on the Concorde with 30 customers? No problem! Cruise the Greek Isles and Turkey? Wandering the streets of Istanbul, exploring the Aga Sofia and the Blue Mosque? Piece a cake. Flying standby in countries where I could not speak the language? easypeasy. I even slept through a crash during take off with a flock of gulls which took out an engine and we had to emergency land in Franfurt. ( Ok that worried me a bit)

But this residual PTSD from my past assaults has me stumped! I have gone through therapy off and on for 14 years. Been under a doctors care for most of that, medicated often, suicide attempts four times for the real serious ones, hospital trips, and countless nights of trying to sleep with the lights and tv on.

Tonight I sat with women who have been through what I have been. I listened to their stories, my story, from their mouths. And I began to cry. For the woman whose daddy blackmailed her, or for the one who is still hurting or the ones from the shelter in town. the ones who just got away, the ones with fresh marks. The one who was lifting me up while she was still in pain. I felt God tonight in the healing, sharing simple words of these women. I shared what I had learned about my long journey and how scared I still am. I dont need to be brave in front of them.

They understand. I understand the words of anger, the self hatred, the confusion, the fear of ever trusting myself again.

PTSD is not something everyone gets apparently. Some soldiers or firemen or witnesses of accidents or crimes can get it, based on what their personal make up and histories are. Symptoms include, jumpiness, exagerrated startle response, depressions, anger, rage, nervousness, flashbacks at times based on triggers and that sort of thing. ( can be a scent of Irish Spring for me and I ll start trembling and crying)

One Dr told me once, that I had a severe case of it and I dismissed him. Not me. I m super woman. I can handle my life Dr Man...

Bad thing about denial is you dont know you are in it while you are in it! I have tried for years to be just like everyone else. Refusing to believe that some cretinous man could take away any part of my soul, my brain. He already took a piece of my body, I would be damned if I was going to give him one more minute of my life. I stuffed it away in a box and shoved it into the recesses of the basement of my soul, never to see the light of day. ( I planned)

Unfortunately, If one doesnt deal with big issues like rape, molestation, abuse, or any other trauma from earlier times, one WILL be facing it. The brain saves us for so long, but when it says its time, your body is safe, or "I cant take it no more" Ka Boom! Out explodes every oozy creepy nasty thought and memory you thought you successfully and neatly evaded.

After talking with these women, hugging them, and hearing their walks, battles and fears, I am surprised at how easily I was able to admit my fears and my anger when I couldnt get that far in months of a therapist's office! Maybe this group can help me move past this hatred of mankind, myself and my choices of my past. (I know I didnt choose what happened when I was 6, but the adult mind, tries to blame me. ) And apparently I am not alone. I am not alone.

Who do you admire the most?

My daughter was given this assignment in class one year.  I was so surprised that she chose me as her subject. I had been sober about 2 months, having suffered from a Rx addiction after a gang rape.  ( Psycho meds are some strong stuff!!)

She still carries the scars of my disease upon her, but she is and was very forgiving of my fall as her mother. ( I was in my disease for 2.5 years and she lived with my mom for most of it)  But it left its mark on her.  I can only make a living amends to her, trying to change my life to make her proud, to own up to my problems and to accept responsibility for my part in things and in my actions.  Words mean nothing when one has broken the heart of a child over and over.


We are close now, thanks be to God! She was the reason I sought shelter at a church when I was homeless and told I was going to die soon.  It was a turning point because I wanted to see her again someday.  She literally saved me, prayed for me in her little church she went to each week.  She told me much later when I tired to sell an old necklace at a garage sale, " No! You cant sell that, you gave it to me when I thought you were going to die!" 

Mindboggling the destruction we selfish parents wreak on our families over our sickness.  Drugs and Alcohol were my god, and I had no thoughts for her, only a way to numb the pain.

This beautiful child believed in me, even  when I relapsed. She loved me through and despite my many failures.  And ironically, I was speaking of MY own mom tonight to someone, and I feel the same about her, her past alcoholism and her recovery over the last 27 years.  I admired her because she taught me how to fix my car, to never take no for an answer, to be tenacious, bullheaded and independent

I held two jobs and went to college full time whilst pregnant out in LA. I finally got fired from waitressing b/c of the size of my belly...it scared customers LOL!  When the time came I drove myself to the hospital and drove us home after giving birth.  I never married nor had a real relationship for any time until recently.  Oh the things we learn from our parents.  I would not trade my mom for the world. even though she drives me nuts.  She likes to send me on guilt trips ( and packs my bags too). 

I have just learned I dont have to board that train, pick up the bags.  I hope my precious daughter can do the same.

Please feel free to share your inspiration and your admirable people!!!