
An example of what a functional MRI scan looks like. Brain activation is averaged across 20 PTSD patients compared to healthy controls in an emotion regulation task.
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Yes, I am drawing a pattern out of only two episodes of trauma in my life.
Here are a few patterns I notice.
The obvious, my trauma buries itself quite deeply for decades.
This pattern allows trauma to have subconscious impact without anytime spent trying to heal.
My childhood abuse did not erupt until I was in my fifties.
Secondly, the first couple of months are extremely intense.
My nervous system is agitated and intrusive thoughts seem to come at a rate of a Gatling gun firing.
I see that my whole personality changes.
One of my symptoms brings the feeling of imminent danger to my being.
It is irrational and very confusing.
Imminent danger for me is not physical, I fear the annihilating of my ego, emotional death in a sense.
I am intense, consumed and out of my gourd for a couple months.
You have witnessed this in my recent posts.
I sound and act like a victim, hopeless, helpless, it is embarrassing but sharing will help others push through their humiliating thoughts.
At my lowest, agoraphobic, hiding in my dark garage during the day, I thought something was going to come through the tile roof and do something worse than death.
Look how abstract that fear is. I have no idea what is coming through the roof, man, animal or alien.
My danger does not need a gender or even an origin but it is what I fear most, the unknown.
PTSD has that unknown quality about it.
The tragic memory is incomplete at the time trauma happens.
If it happened in childhood, the brain has not fully developed, storing an incomplete, distorted memory.
Somewhere in our background we need that skill that does not give up when all Common sense says it is the prudent choice.
At my lowest, Agoraphobic, contemplating suicide, a moment of clarity and strength surfaced for me.
From somewhere deep inside my head, the words, my abuser, my dad wins if I give up.
That may seem a feeble judgment by some, but every fiber in my body would not allow him to win.
In a crazy moment of crisis, I accepted my suffering, decided I would rather sit and suffer than let my dad win.
I did not realize this was a pivotal moment on my healing journey, inside my ego, that inner voice knew I would never give up.
Healing from PTSD is a war zone, expect the turmoil as part of the journey.
Ironically, surviving my fathers abuse developed the traits that helped me heal.
We have to fight for our wellbeing, fight the demons our childhoods created.
Thoughts?
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