Posts Tagged ‘Dissociation’

Coping skills faltering

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This is how I cope, distract my trauma from ruminating.

I watch tv and play solitaire at the same time, trying to distract my mind away from my trauma.

My mind and the thoughts generated are the enemies.

When activated like this, emotional and physical dangers feel imminent.

It’s all abstract and irrational but feels real and immediate.

Depression is such a different animal than Ptsd.

Ptsd has energy, anxiety, fear, momentum; depression sucks the life out of you.

I am a ping pong ball, volleyed back and forth between depression and panic.

Looking back at 70, violence, emotional and physical, has always been part of my life.

My dad drilled into me failure was worse than death.

He had his heart set on me making him famous, my safety meant nothing to him, failure to perform was worse than death.

I never attempted to unplug this trait, it was accepted as part of who I was.

Childhood abuse is much more than beatings and criticism.

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What is the Purpose of Life?

pixabay Comfreak

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What is the purpose of life?

First, abused kids purpose will be drastically different than a normal kids.

We are separated at birth, an abused kids life will have more early death, cancer, addiction, pain, suffering, and mental illness.

It’s like as kids we were on different planets, one supportive and one abusive, damaging.

I have never had a purpose of my own, my dad and mom told me who I was and what I would be, a pro baseball player.

That ended at 27, I have been wandering ever since.

I have friends who are happy to lucky, life is an adventure, and their purpose is evident for them.

They live a life I am not familiar with.

Purpose has a hard time living in a container of trauma, fear, and anxiety.

Purpose becomes trying to survive, trying to diminish pain, trying to be normal.

Living is painful, I suffer enough that life feels worthless.

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Obsessed: a sports analogy

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From “Obsessed: The Compulsions and Creations of Dr. Jeffrey Schwartz by Steve Volk

“The catcher (your brain), gives signals to the pitcher (your consciousness).

Just as the pitcher can shake off a signal and ask the catcher for another option, our conscious mind can shake off impulses from the brain.

Some of these impulses, like quick motor reflexes, get processed and acted upon automatically.

When I see a car drifting over into my lane, I register no choice to honk the horn and move to the shoulder of the highway; I begin the actions involved before I even have full, conscious awareness of the danger.

But when I receive an impulse to eat a peach, I can shake that off—I’d rather have an apple—like the pitcher telling his catcher “no” and receiving another suggestion.

“The fact is, we behave automatically all the time,” says Schwartz.

We behave without thinking.

The brain is constantly sending us messages and thoughts and possible actions, and we can’t control what thoughts our brain is going to bring up into our awareness.

But once a thought has risen to conscious awareness, then we can step up and choose where we will focus our attention.

And the behavior we focus on is the behavior we’ll perform.”
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My Bucket list

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Intrusive thoughts are the ptsd symptom that dominates my life now.

Each day arrives with thoughts of trepidation and fear.

My main goal is security at all costs. What others think is worth a risk, holds no desire for me.

I am not afraid of my intrusive thoughts, they are my mind’s daily ritual.

Without input from me, my mind generates intrusive thoughts like an automatic weapon firing.

They do not trigger my nervous system, they ignite depression and unworthiness.

I am terrified of sharing the darkest ones with anyone.

I hide my thoughts and the way I live to survive.

It is embarrassing.

If you told me I have a month to live, I am not going to travel to some exotic place or change anything.

My bucket list holds only one item.

I have zero desire to travel or congregate with others. Give me the ability to trust and enjoy a few things.

Being healed.

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Life has been about enduring pain

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Life has been about enduring pain, enduring abuse, living without ever feeling worthy.

Being yelled at screamed at, then violently assaulted dominated my early years.

Life has been violent since my early childhood, the fear and anxiety never left.

If I had a choice, why would I choose to be born into this suffering?

How many abused kids feel the same way?

At 70, I have suffered a complete life, it is a fact.

Why did we lose the birth lottery, why were we the kids chosen to suffer?

The physical abuse fades, the emotional last a lifetime.

I have always dreamed about being different, worthy.

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My Blog may not be helpful lately

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My intrusive thoughts never stop at times, normal people can not comprehend this or experience it. I do not dig up intrusive trauma thoughts they arrive on their own.

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My leading, helping others out has been sparse or nonexistent lately, PTSD is alive and persistent, overbearing, powerful, I strain for the correct description.

At my worst, life stopped, I could not leave the house, I was frozen, shaking for hours, darkness marked another day survived.

My fight or flight exploded 15 times a day, I was agoraphobic, irrational fear, and anxiety imprisoned me. My prescribing Ph.D. psychologist had me on 350 milligrams of effector, a normal dose is 75.

Life was horrible. He thought I was messed up.

My mind could not handle a nervous system tilted upside down, I had lost control of everything, I reacted and suffered.

All my work has calmed my physical symptoms adequately, it is the intrusive thoughts, my mind thinking that haunts my waking hours.

My mind is out of control again, intrusive thoughts, trauma memories run constantly.

Thoughts arrive without our input, an abused kid’s thoughts could not be more different, more trauma laced, more negative, or more destructive than a normal child’s. An abused kids thoughts trigger ptsd, fear, and anxiety.

All my tools, grounding skills, focus skills, tricks, and meditating focus have minimal impact.

I am worn out physically and mentally right now.

It does feel like a war inside.

Depression becomes the second biggest symptom, actually co-morbid with PTSD.

Life is horrible again.

I know that is irrational but so is my whole life.

I share when things go well, why hide my challenges and losses.

I have to make sure everyone knows I am not giving up, just suffering and whining some.

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Ptsd: the roller coaster ride of our life

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I have tried EFT, TFT, EMDR, hypnosis, cranial sacral, acupuncture, CBT, ACT, developmental trauma therapy, EDIT, holistic, internal family system, biofeedback, two intuitives, and some actions forgotten on the journey.

Over a decade I had three therapists, two intuitives, a slew of books, and five years at a Zen center.

There is a spiritual component connected to meditation that has been a big part of my journey. Mindfulness has been an anchor on this journey.

Months we’re spent trying to apply everything learned in therapy, in books, and online.

My effort and dedication were intense and persistent, I wanted to heal completely and dedicated the last decade to this pursuit.

I exhaustively read the latest about brain science, the cutting edge therapies, the exploration of survivor traits, the mindfulness (meditation) connection, the lack of focus on the body (exercise), the absence of daily support, and the never mentioned urgency that was missing entirely.

Frustrated to be at PTSD’s mercy again, stuck, in pain, feeling like I have lost my mind, life is painful.

Times like this, life limps along, I feel wounded and extremely vulnerable.

Giving up is not an option, so the next action is checking out a chemical imbalance.

Need to either confirm or eliminate this possibility.

After that I am out of solutions.

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A look at my childhood minus the PTSD


My father was from a family of 15, he was in the middle of that order with a paternal twin. My mother was an only child raised Catholic by two atheist.

Yea that’s a weird match.

Mom got pregnant at 16, had me at 17 and that was the end of their high school education.

I was raised by crazy kids.

Mom was a fanatic with religion, dads only interest besides a weekly bowling league was for me to be Roy Hobbs, from The Natural, the greatest baseball hitter ever.

My parents were out there but found a way to exist, divorce was not recognized by the Catholic Church, my mom was stuck.

Playing baseball was his total interest in me. Oh I had to get good grades, be damn near perfect and have my behavior make him look good at all costs also.

He really never had conversations with me, I either did something to piss him off or it was baseball.

He criticized and lectured, we never had a conversation, ever.

If I brought up an idea about me being something other than a pro ball player, Mom would say God made you to play ball.

I did not talk much, fear and self protection were the emotions used for survival. Why would I ever say something and risk his wrath.

School had knowledge, dialogue but it brought social challenges.

You can understand why I was socially awkward, I was damn near a mute at home.

They controlled who I could have for friends and dad did not allow me to date, in his eyes women were a risk to my baseball career.

If he could of branded me showing ownership, it would of been a big bold tattoo.

Years later I returned home from across the country for some event, they could not believe I was a talkative adult. I was an extrovert, who knew.

And yes I moved as far away as I could.

Some of this was abusive but look at their lives.

My daughter explains my mother’s dilemma, in 1950, unwed and pregnant, her future husband was a violent narcissist.

Maybe it was a life sentence for her.

Who knows.

As an old man, I am lost, life has never had purpose or direction. I do not know how to have purpose or direction.

I try to heal a little more each day but life is hallow and has way to much suffering without a purpose.

We all have our challenges.

Any insights, comments or opinions?
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PTSD’s impact on my life at 70

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No sugarcoating, this is how my PTSD feels.

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I have no memory of having a direction, a purpose in life. My parents told me who and what I would be, a pro ball player, after that was done, I wandered without a rudder.

Dealing with PTSD symptoms, handling crisis, trying to survive, describes the rest of my life until now. Betrayal took my sense of safety, security, the ability to trust.

Someone chastised me for not having a bucket list yesterday, like I was void of human desires.

Is there happiness in any part of a bucket list? Definitely some joy maybe.

Fulfilling a bucket list will not change my PTSD, will it? Have not read about a therapy called bucket list yet.

I have no bucket list or desire to make one. With PTSD, traveling to some exotic destination dies a quick death, being at some crowded event, sports or otherwise, does not interest me.

Right now, I do not belong to any group, any church, any team. Childhood abuse and a college betrayal took safety out of my life, no group is worth the risk. This is sad I know.

Things were destroyed when I was younger, broken, people can not understand that. My thoughts are so much different that I feel an outcast.

Worry and doubt have always had a strong presence, feeling safe never happened in childhood, as an adult a hybrid of that emotion lives on. Not feeling safe is emotional now, connected to my trauma subconsciously.

PTSD’s manifests most in my lifestyle, I am a loner, avoid crowds and people most of the time. Trust is scarce, feeling free or happy go lucky has never happened.

Pictures of my mom, dad and siblings do not exist in my space, in my life. There are no good memories from childhood, no attachments then, no attachments now, to any of them.

It is hard to feel connection with caregivers who beat and criticized you abusively, then deny their behavior for the rest of their. life.

I would like to say my life is well adjusted with lots of community and connection.

My life has some calm joy.

It also is a life haunted by demons of abuse and betrayal at my core.

Sadness overwhelms my spirit somedays, I wish to be on another planet, in another body, with another mind, and another life.

Then, there are days I can distract myself and feel a little joy.

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PTSD: Birth is the ultimate lottery

https://www.si.com/nba/2016/10/27/classic-photos-kareem-abdul-jabbar#gid=ci02554da9c0002580&pid=2015

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Looking back after 70 years on this planet, life is harsh even for kids who had great support and love from their caregivers.

Watching a podcast of NBA star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, he described his life as an oddity, sticking out being 6’8” at 12 years old. 7’2″ was his height as an adult, how do you blend in or hide, fit into a hotel bed, buy clothes, or fit in a car?

People always stare and treat you like an oddity. He says this kind of scrutiny drives you inside, into your own cocoon.

Life shrinks for people scrutinized as different or abused kids markedly different in behavior than normal kids.

Now, consider being seriously abused as a kid, criticized and beaten by a caregiver. Think we are not an abnormality, an oddity compared to normal kids.

We do not feel equal to others, we know we are flawed and compromised, dysfunctional and isolated.

I am not saying as an adult I believe any of this now, however it was my reality most of my life and dogma as a kid.

If birth is the ultimate lottery, we lost big time.

The impact of abusing a child, lasts a lifetime, I am an example of this. The ACE study documents the physical diseases and early death that childhood abuse causes.

I am not a victim but I have suffered trying to heal from childhood PTSD my entire life. That is a fact.

At 70, my brain is still trying to cope with a smaller hippocampus, larger amygdala and a compromised left prefrontal cortex, Childhood PTSD disrupts nearly everyday with unworthiness and failure.

I have friends who are happy go lucky, think everything will turn out alright. Their demeanor is relaxed and confident, life seems easy and happy for them.

To say I am envious and amazed is an understatement.

Are they from another planet, how can a brain feel safe and secure, being able to trust thoughts, and finally they trust others.

I have never had those feelings and never expect to feel that way, a little bit of wellbeing and peace of mind are my only goals now.

My life is navigating around my trauma minefield, searching for brief moments of joy while dodging trauma thoughts, anxiety and isolation.

Yes, I have felt haunted by childhood demons, this battle has never receded from my life.

Everyone has challenges, some much greater than others. Whoever makes those decisions is way above our pay grade.

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