Complex Post-traumatic Stress Disorder

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Case management- here we go again

Attempts at case management to help with my functional tasks have been unsatisfactory to say the least.
It has led to some medical trauma, especially after negligence that resulted in losing my housing voucher and me homeless (this was back in 2021).
Early this year I had an agency discharge me from case management services because they kept trying to push me to meet with a psychiatrist on a Saturday when I wasn’t comfortable or able to do so. (I contacted the local board of mental health and thankfully my grievance was substituted, however I did not want to stay with that agency).
I tried another agency and it was really hard to get there. I am pretty sure I posted on here about it.
Anyways, I am finally assigned to a new case manager. This one is at the agency I get art therapy from so my therapist is going to talk to the person before we have our appointment. That was yesterday. Today I got a call from him and I asked if he had talked to my therapist. He had not (I didn’t expect him to because it was barely 24 hrs later). So I told him he probably should talk to my therapist before we have an appointment. He agreed and hopefully they will talk and i will meet him next week.
Then I can finally get to things like the tests the doctors have asked me to do months ago but couldn’t make it into the offices to do 🙃
I am so grateful I can advocate for myself and that I have someone to help me explain it all. I also think this is a huge improvement because I really struggle to accept help, even though I need it. My art therapist and I are really working on allowing myself to need help.

#Agoraphobia #PanicDisorder #Anxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #ADHD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #AutonomicDysfunction #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine

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A non-smoker in a chainsmoking family house, what effects does it have on me?

Hi! I'll attempt to keep this one short, unlike my other posts.

I grew up a non-smoker in a very much smoker family (everyone, including the teens, smoked except for grandma and me). We all live in one big family house which has three floors. Each of us, or I guess each "family unit" has their own flat, complete with the bathroom and kitchen etc. The smoking family members would all gather in the second floor hallway and chainsmoke with the window only a little cracked, pretty much using the place as a balcony.

As a kid I grew up with my emotionally neglectful & abusive grandmother who lived on the second floor, but very close to the stairs leading downstairs, away from the part of the hallway where they used to gather. This was ironically ideal as at least I didn't smell it as much back then and the only thing bothering me back then was the cat hair on my clothes I got bullied for and the feathers in my bedding I was allergic to, oh and I guess also grandma but that's besides the point. :P

Afterwards something happened that made my dad move me upstairs, and I remained there since then. This upstairs flat does not have a bathroom or a functioning kitchen, so I always have to walk down the stairs, open and close the door leading to the stairs and move through the second floor hallway if I want to go to the toilet, get kitchen appliances, literally just leave or move freely throughout the house.

As a kid it was really bad because, as I said, there were about 1-5 people smoking there at any random moment and I needed to power through that. Plus I couldn't have said anything to them either because they'd get mad I'm straying away from them or defending my health (lol fuckers).

Now at least most of the people have moved out and only two sometimes smoke there, so it's better. Still definitely not ideal, but better! Except for when some of them visit, like the teens that are now adults that now have a partner of their own who also smokes and that fuckass annoying baby they like to expose to second hand smoke that I have to pretend I find cute, even though it always reeks of smoke and shit and will probably end up with a shit ton of problems in the future. And then they all gather in the hallway and ruin the air again and again. The new people always seem to use the worst smelling brands, too, and I have to pretend like I appreciate their presence at all, which drains me to no ends. Can't wait for when they leave.

It bothers me a ton, because I have to time my actions throughout the day constantly like going to take a dump, taking out the trash, talking to people downstairs if it's needed or if they want me to etc. and it's annoying to do that and then miscalculate and end up with potential smoke in the hair/clothes/SELF and then just the feeling of not feeling clean and worrying about getting cancer. Plus the clothes were expensive, and just freshly washed.

It's also annoying when I time it juuust right, after they just smoked and I can still smell it in the air. I try to hold my breath but it isn't doing much. I always run upstairs really fast afterwards and get a tissue to blow into, I guess to reassure myself that I'm alright now.

A trip from the hallway and out of it usually takes me about 4 seconds because again, I try to be really fast, but running up the stairs while holding my breath all while the smoke is still seeping into the rest of my skin exacerbating my skin problems and possibly creating new ones in the process takes longer, around 7 seconds. My question is, how likely is this to impact my health?

I was toying with the idea of going to the cardiologist and telling him about all of this (except for the part where I'm inconsiderate about my family of course), so that he could maybe write a fake note telling them my issues got worse and that a potential culprit could have been their smoking, so if they please couldn't smoke outside instead. Corrupt, but it could work, I think?

Then again, the house is my grandma's, and she doesn't really care about any of this even though she is a non-smoker as well, so it's probably not accomplishable. Doubt she'd make an exception for JUST me either. Seems unbalanced.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and I will be glad for any responses. :)#CPTSD #EmotionalNeglect #Smoking #cigarettes #help #MentalHealth edited for the tags

(edited)
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A non-smoker in a chainsmoking family house, what effects does it have on me?

Hi! I'll attempt to keep this one short, unlike my other posts.

I grew up a non-smoker in a very much smoker family (everyone, including the teens, smoked except for grandma and me). We all live in one big family house which has three floors. Each of us, or I guess each "family unit" has their own flat, complete with the bathroom and kitchen etc. The smoking family members would all gather in the second floor hallway and chainsmoke with the window only a little cracked, pretty much using the place as a balcony.

As a kid I grew up with my emotionally neglectful & abusive grandmother who lived on the second floor, but very close to the stairs leading downstairs, away from the part of the hallway where they used to gather. This was ironically ideal as at least I didn't smell it as much back then and the only thing bothering me back then was the cat hair on my clothes I got bullied for and the feathers in my bedding I was allergic to, oh and I guess also grandma but that's besides the point. :P

Afterwards something happened that made my dad move me upstairs, and I remained there since then. This upstairs flat does not have a bathroom or a functioning kitchen, so I always have to walk down the stairs, open and close the door leading to the stairs and move through the second floor hallway if I want to go to the toilet, get kitchen appliances, literally just leave or move freely throughout the house.

As a kid it was really bad because, as I said, there were about 1-5 people smoking there at any random moment and I needed to power through that. Plus I couldn't have said anything to them either because they'd get mad I'm straying away from them or defending my health (lol fuckers).

Now at least most of the people have moved out and only two sometimes smoke there, so it's better. Still definitely not ideal, but better! Except for when some of them visit, like the teens that are now adults that now have a partner of their own who also smokes and that fuckass annoying baby they like to expose to second hand smoke that I have to pretend I find cute, even though it always reeks of smoke and shit and will probably end up with a shit ton of problems in the future. And then they all gather in the hallway and ruin the air again and again. The new people always seem to use the worst smelling brands, too, and I have to pretend like I appreciate their presence at all, which drains me to no ends. Can't wait for when they leave.

It bothers me a ton, because I have to time my actions throughout the day constantly like going to take a dump, taking out the trash, talking to people downstairs if it's needed or if they want me to etc. and it's annoying to do that and then miscalculate and end up with potential smoke in the hair/clothes/SELF and then just the feeling of not feeling clean and worrying about getting cancer. Plus the clothes were expensive, and just freshly washed.

It's also annoying when I time it juuust right, after they just smoked and I can still smell it in the air. I try to hold my breath but it isn't doing much. I always run upstairs really fast afterwards and get a tissue to blow into, I guess to reassure myself that I'm alright now.

A trip from the hallway and out of it usually takes me about 4 seconds because again, I try to be really fast, but running up the stairs while holding my breath all while the smoke is still seeping into the rest of my skin exacerbating my skin problems and possibly creating new ones in the process takes longer, around 7 seconds. My question is, how likely is this to impact my health?

I was toying with the idea of going to the cardiologist and telling him about all of this (except for the part where I'm inconsiderate about my family of course), so that he could maybe write a fake note telling them my issues got worse and that a potential culprit could have been their smoking, so if they please couldn't smoke outside instead. Corrupt, but it could work, I think?

Then again, the house is my grandma's, and she doesn't really care about any of this even though she is a non-smoker as well, so it's probably not accomplishable. Doubt she'd make an exception for JUST me either. Seems unbalanced.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and I will be glad for any responses. :)#CPTSD #EmotionalNeglect #Smoking #cigarettes #help #MentalHealth edited for the tags

(edited)
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Coming to grips with reality

Things have been shifting in my neck of the woods. I've had to face the reality that I (along with my mother and brother) have been emotionally abused for years. I wasn't aware that narcissistic abuse was under the category of emotional abuse. A marital separation is underway, and a lot of emotions are being experienced. As for myself, I'm dealing with a lot of feelings of low self-esteem. I've been partially avoiding romantic relationships because I feel that I may be too much for someone who may not know what to do with an emotionally battered woman (let alone want to deal with her). I also have a deep fear of potentially repeating the cycle of abuse by entering into a relationship with someone who may be a narcissist as well. I'm aware that not everyone is a bad person, but it's the unknowns that scare me. I'm still unlearning and learning a lot of things in the process, but for right now, I feel undesirable. I don't know where I fit in this world. There is no foreseeable way for me to open up to just anyone about this because of my lack of trust in others. Not to mention that I already assume that not everyone cares. It's very messy in the brain department and I feel that I may be too messed up for "normal" things. #MentalHealth #Depression #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Anxiety #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #Trauma #Abuse

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Gene sight testing and medication change

My psychiatrist and I did gene sight testing this month and today I had my appointment today.
I usually know a decent amount about this stuff, but I am confused (so is she). My “levels” are high and that means I lower doses of medications are recommended but I don’t feel anything on most meds. Even if they are for the first time I’ve tried them.

My cptsd symptoms mostly present as high energy, panic attacks, and a lot of body sensations. I rarely experience episodes of depression and we are pretty sure we have the correct diagnoses. But the anxiety is so hard even though I am doing so much work. I don’t know if it’s cortisol, or that my trauma response is still too high, or if it could be something to do with my thyroid or my liver. Anyways, I’m going to have to email my doctor because my therapist thought something was up physically since my anxiety is still so high.
My doctor is trying me on Limictal now. I’m concerned about issues with my memory because it already is pretty hard due to brain fog.

Anyways, thank you to anyone who reads this. If you can relate to any of this, please let me know. I’m usually good at identifying causes and I’m just so confused now.

#MentalHealth #CheckInWithMe #ChronicIllness #AutonomicDysfunction #PosturalOrthostaticTachycardiaSyndrome #POTS #Agoraphobia #Anxiety #PanicDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #ADHD #Disability

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Not a victim#CPTSD #Misdiagnosis #Talk

The first time, I was six.I didnt become aware until 50. I stopped talking because noone listened.I still try at 53, to talk.I can not anymore.
They ignored me then and they continued to, my entire adult life.Then, they tried to silence my son.He knew better.They, severed the ties.Not a child, not the one who tried to speak.They neglected me then and continued to, as I grew.I say no this time.I say stop, I am done with this dysfunction in my life.Am I embarrassing family? I no longer care for your face value and ego.it is not my problem.I will never be quiet again, understand that.Hear this clearly, I am no longer yours to hurt.I am no longer your wall for your projected image or, one of your victims.

Ego Communication

Connettiti al digitale con Ego Communication: soluzioni informatiche su misura per il tuo business.
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Not a victim#CPTSD #Misdiagnosis #Talk

The first time, I was six.I didnt become aware until 50. I stopped talking because noone listened.I still try at 53, to talk.I can not anymore.
They ignored me then and they continued to, my entire adult life.Then, they tried to silence my son.He knew better.They, severed the ties.Not a child, not the one who tried to speak.They neglected me then and continued to, as I grew.I say no this time.I say stop, I am done with this dysfunction in my life.Am I embarrassing family? I no longer care for your face value and ego.it is not my problem.I will never be quiet again, understand that.Hear this clearly, I am no longer yours to hurt.I am no longer your wall for your projected image or, one of your victims.

Ego Communication

Connettiti al digitale con Ego Communication: soluzioni informatiche su misura per il tuo business.
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Finished my first diamond painting. This was tedious, but I needed to do something that required me to slow down for a minute. Not exactly thrilled with the outcome, but I'm proud of myself for even finishing it. What do you do to unwind/pass time?

#MentalHealth
#Depression
#Anxiety
#ADHD
#ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder
#PTSD
#Autism
#CheckInWithMe

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The sister who cannot see me

I told my sister that I didn’t want to live any more. That I was tired. That I couldn’t take it. I told her through sloppy heaving tears and staccato breathing. My cry and my begging were likely equal weight. The cry: heavy, tonal, maneuvering to slice through still air. The begging: a pitch echoing through the phone waves, whimpering, childlike.

Her words described what her emotions couldn’t grasp, “That’s heartbreaking.” She said it in a way that floating sounds into the air could somehow give shape to something real. She searched her mind, her vocabulary, her shallow depth of feeling to acknowledge what I said was not something any human with half a heart should let stand in the cold. She said it so she could hear herself say it.

Then my sister and I talked about the practical things at hand. Could I try this. Did I think of that. All the rational solutions rattled out stacked like ready soldiers, trained and at attention, “Sir, yes sir.”

We lightened up here and there. She made me laugh--genuinely. And in between the walls of discomfort and accidental guards let down, we felt like sisters. Until we did our best to back up and step outside the neutral zone. How to end this call? We both said to ourselves.

Then I heard the doorbell ring or something like it signaling her furniture was being delivered. “I have to go,” she bolted verbally. “Yes, yes,” I nodded in a rush as if I was just passing through the door.

The next day, I texted her a note of thanks and also explanation. I said I didn’t need her to solve my problems. That I’m resourceful. Like the teenage girl who made her way out of an unsafe house, I always have found a way to take care of myself. I said that’s not why I called yesterday. I said had no agenda. I had no asks. Hoping she would understand that I was a little girl again—crying in her room and begging to be noticed.

To know that I mattered was the reason that I called. “Yes, call me anytime,” she dutifully offered—before hanging up in haste. Any time had passed. All the grains of sand piled at the bottom of the hourglass. My any time was spent, tiny beads of silicone sneaking through the bottleneck, barely leaving dust in its trace.

#PTSD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder

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