domestic abuse survivors

Hi everyone

I wanted to put an update on here really quick

(My anxiety has been sky rocketing so I am having a hard time communicating and checking in atm.)

My aunt responded and I will be able to stay with her. ❤️

I will be safe and with a relatively safe family member. I do not foresee obstacles with her. 💜

I’m going to be back in my hometown for a few months and I’m going to struggle a lot. But I will be safer than where I am currently/was planning on being 💗

I will put a more thorough update on here as soon as I can.

Thank you so so so so so much everyone for helping me get through this year.

You all on this app have been the single most life changing support I could ask for. Thank you so much.

#Disability
#ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #PTSD #Anxiety #Trauma #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ChronicIllness #ChronicVestibularMigraine #ChronicMigraines #Migraine #ADHD #CheckInWithMe #MightyTogether

THIS MIGHT GET LONG

I haven't been on in a week or little more. I love all the encouragement here, and at the same time can't handle hearing others issues. Makes me feel like an azz cause he I am venting. My head is kinda messed up again and my flashbacks are back. I went to my daughter's yesterday to watch my youngest two grandsons. Actually my daughter offered to pick me up so I didn't have to walk the half mile in the heat. When I asked about my oldest grandson she informed me that he was several hours away but coming back that day as he had a severe breakdown and had to get inpatient treatment. Bipolar and Sciz (never could spell that word); my ex-husband has the first and my middle child has both. I have major anxiety and depression. She asked me not to tell anyone as it wasn't announced to outside their household. When I first heard it was like getting punched in the gut. Had to fight my head in convincing myself I was a good parent. My sons first time in inpatient he was eight. What I didn't understand until around 5 years later was that he heard voices (at very young age) that told him to hurt or ki** people. I had to learn to read his body language, moods, tone of voice and think three steps in front of him to prevent any violent outbursts. He went through trial and error will a multitude of medications before the proper cocktail was found. But he had numerous meds that he had adverse reactions to. Ranging from hand tremors, eye twitching, weight gain and seizures to name a few. He's in his middle twenties now, able to not be on any medication and is doing well. Yet he hates me for all the placements "I" put him in. Of around ten, I asked his doctor only once to please place him as I needed a break. The other times either his doctor or the school was persistent that he needed more help than what I could give. I explained to him that "his behavior is what sent him each time I had to take him. All I did was sign the paperwork. Back then I was afraid if I hadn't taken him for the help I know he needed that the school or doctors could have him taken from my care.
So now my grandson is facing the same hard road. My daughter also has more milder Bipolar yet is in denial. From what my daughter told me was that her and her wife had gotten into a huge disagreement/fight and my oldest grandson lost it. My daughter-in-law is staying at her parents and they are leaving for a 3 night 4 day family vacation as planned. When they returned will be going into counseling for the family. My son's actually live together and last week I received several phone calls from the youngest fiance saying they were fighting will the first one saying they were close to becoming physical. I had already been on my way there but after that phone call disregarded the actual speed limit and made my own. Surprised her when I got there sooner than expected. The third call came in the midst of my severe head cold and was miserable. My oldest called and after I talked with them both over the phone I told them I am not coming as I could not safely drive, that they are both adults they need to figure it out themselves and the needed to grow the **** up.
Today I drove a friend to run some errands and he triggered me but I could control my reactions. He tells me every time I take him somewhere that he has PTSD when riding in a car. So he's saying; your speeding, slow down (only once was I going more than 5 over the limit). Grabbing the handle at different times, etc. I explained that I understand PTSD and I'm actually a very good driver. When I asked where his ptsd came from, he said he didn't really know as he hadn't been in an accident unless it was when he was little and don't remember. But my ex (abuser) would constantly criticize my driving. Yelling even, and threatening. Once he made me pull over as he said I turned the corner at the light wrong and he was driving. Well, let's just say that was the second time he made me walk home.
On a lighter note, I should be getting my apartment soon. I'm praying it's this week. I will be calling the lady in the morning and asking when I'm supposed to come sign my paperwork so I can move in. I'm so tired of couch hopping. Carrying my things that I'll need for several days everywhere I go. Been doing that since end of January. As grateful as I am that I've been able to do that and not be out on the street, it's old. I'm old! Or at least my body is.
I was talking to my uncle the other day and I told him that I had written down everything I've been diagnosed with because I always forget and just tell the doctor that I've listed the major issues. But with listing my hearing loss and requiring glasses to plantar facility's to carpal tunnel syndrome to hEDS to C-PTSD I have been diagnosed with 47 different things. When I go for my yearly physical next month my doctor isn't going to be happy because I haven't gotten my mammogram or my colonoscopy done. But as I told my uncle, my head can NOT handle knowing anything else is wrong with me. I don't let any of them define who I am. Yet in some ways they do. My triggers for my flashbacks define me, as does my anxiety and pain. Everyday those 3 I deal with 24/7. I'm like trust me I know I have medical issues, major non life threatening one. Even if I did take those tests and they found something wrong, I don't know that I would take measures in trying to make things better.
Every year for the past 45 years I had been diagnosed with something new because my body is slowly deteriorating. This past year, I've gotten 4 new diagnosises. When I asked my uncle if he had seen where I gave his birthday wishes he said yes and thanked me. Then we were talking about age and medical problems. I told him that I don't want to live to be his age (73) I'm 52 because of how my body already is. Yet I want to live and see my grandsons grow into men. It's days where I allow myself to think deeply about myself that ... it's just very depressing. I always bring myself back up to being positive.
I do apologize this is pretty long. But I thank you for allowing me to express myself and vent. I appreciate you all for reading it through. May God Bless each and everyone of you! #PTSD #c -PTSD #ChronicPain #ChronicIllnessEDS #MentalHealth #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #EmotionalAbuse

TW: domestic violence

I don’t usually talk about this

I went into the education field when I was 15

It was a “great career to have while raising a family.” 🙄

I was pretty sure I wanted kids although I went back and forth some years.

I got my Ed.S. and began working. I had been in a stable, long term relationship. We were engaged for a couple of years after dating for a few. I was getting married and getting set up for my family.

Then I experienced domestic violence in the first year of our marriage. I temporarily got out the night it turned physical. I got my emergency protection order within a month of it happening. I didn’t wait. I did it all the way society wants us to do it. I fought for him to acknowledge we weren’t reconciling. I thought I was moving on with my life.

I became disabled. I dated someone else who was abusive. I never really got “safe.” I didn’t realize leaving meant I would be stuck here seemingly forever.

I tried telling people how scared I was about all of the critical years of my life were slipping away.

All of my friends were staring families. They didn’t have time to even respond to me. They truly abandoned me. For so many reasons

They almost all work in the education field. Their social medias no longer include much else than their kids. One (the one who treats me like garbage) even joked with her husband that she only married him to have kids. I believe that joke, now seeing how she treats everyone as stepping stones to get what she wants. (If you’ve read my previous posts this probably doesn’t surprise you).

They promised me I could be an auntie to their kids. It was such a lie because they wouldn’t even treat me like a friend, much less a family member. They just didn’t want to deal with their own concerns regarding possible infertility since they were all in their 30s and concerned. It hit too close until it didn’t hit at all and i became othered.

30 years of concurrent friendship, best friends with three women, all of it gone in months because they wouldn’t treat me like a friend, or even a human.

Their families mattered over the decades of friendship.

They no longer have the space in my life.

This hurts so so so much.

I won’t have kids. I’m 36 and I just don’t see it as something that would be a responsible choice as a disabled women with very little support. I don’t want to hear how I’m making the right choice. I didn’t really make it. Society made it for me. When I became disabled. By experiencing trauma. By other people. I can’t even get enough money to eat. Yet I have been told repeatedly I would get more assistance if I had kids. Welcome to the dystopian universe.

And all of the people I loved most just disappeared. Their entire identities just disappeared when they had kids. Their social medias have no history from their life before kids. My own history has been robbed as well as my future

It’s been so cruel.

#DomesticAbuseSurvivors #Anxiety #PTSD #CPTSD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #Trauma #ChronicIllness #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #ADHD #Disability #DisabilityBenefits #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks

It’s really hard to accept the way I’m being treated. I refuse to just let these agencies speak to me the way they do without calling them out.

I have been experiencing extreme food or toiletries insecurities and shortages. It has gone to the point where I’m so overwhelmed with everything I’m not getting that I cannot figure out where to start with what I need.

The one agency that i consistently have gotten some supplements like noodles and shampoo etc has severely restricted my services when I advocated for myself. The told me “we work with survivors not for survivors.” WHAT HAVE I NOT DONE!?
I got confused by the email because of how wordy it was. They have known for years this is a limitation for me. No one called me. Then the reoccurring appointment kept getting missed. Despite knowing I needed to access resources. I told them in group about the barriers. They already know.
They aren’t acknowledging this is the only place I can access with my limitations. And they know I am in dangerous need. I bring it up every week. And no one has called me.
This has been a complete 180 from how it was a few months ago.
I had always been supported and encouraged by them. They didn’t even call me to fully hear what I was experiencing.
Everyone else I have spoken with are stunned this happened, they all know it’s not okay. But that doesn’t change how they are treating me because they are now another agency literally silencing my voice by telling me I can’t talk in group at risk of sounding too clinical. Before I even got to talk.

I’m so disappointed and I’m so scared. These are our helpers. These are our advocates. 🤮😱

#DomesticAbuseSurvivors #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #Anxiety #PTSD #Trauma #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ChronicMigraines #ChronicIllness #CheckInWithMe #ChronicVestibularMigraine

When I was in grad school, I learned a lot about comorbidity of different diagnoses and how some diagnoses can look like another. I learned about how different medications can make you experienced different symptoms which could be confused with another disorder.

What wasn’t discussed was what I experience as a client, not a practitioner:
Things that are not symptoms of anything can be attributed to my conditions OR could be a reason for a “new diagnosis.”
🧐
In different scenarios, the things I normally do, like talk myself through a task- just like many people do- are seen as problematic.🧐
My energy, which was an asset before, is now “manic.” 🧐
My ability to relate to kids through authenticity was also an asset as a school psychologist because I could get the kids who wouldn’t open up to many people to open up to me. Now I’m immature. 🧐
My wavy hair looked cute at work and my bright outfits were quirky, but in a mental health setting I look unkempt. 🧐

#MentalHealth #ChronicIllness #MightyTogether #ChronicMigraineSyndrome #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine #ADHD #Anxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #PTSD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #Disability #Trauma #DomesticAbuseSurvivors

Hi.

I realize I stim a lot now. Especially to help with dissociation. Like it’s both an interruption and a self soothing thing.

Anyone else?
#ADHD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #Anxiety #PTSD #Trauma #DomesticAbuseSurvivors

I just tried to get food at four different places.

I had a massive panic attack at each one.

My case manager won’t be in next week. I can call her boss but there won’t be any immediate physical assistance for at least a couple of weeks.

It’s not even just money. It is partially.

It’s that I am physically getting sick with panic before I can even complete the steps of doing the thing.

It used to be I had a hard time paying bc my card would get declined sometimes
Then I would have a hard time going into stores
Then I would have a hard time making decisions
Then I could only get a couple of items
Now I can’t get through the process of getting anything.

I dissociate and lose things. Important things. Like my phone

I don’t have anyone to call.
I tried asking for help for 12 hours this morning and I didn’t get a response.

I sit in crisis by myself sometimes for days.

Three of my medications have been interrupted.

I am fighting for my basic rights to be respected by two agencies.

I lost my core support.

I don’t have enough money for food.

I am going back to a place where I am not even acknowledged and there is a countdown for me to be out on her streets. By my former best friend.

I don’t have anyone to show up for me.

I am homeless, about to be living in my car.

People say to talk but when I try they can’t handle it.

And this is the one place I feel heard. (Thank you)

There is so much more. I am so scared.

#ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #Agoraphobia #Anxiety #PanicAttacks #ADHD #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Migraine #ChronicMigraines #Trauma #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #CheckInWithMe

I’m ineligible for many services or opportunities because I don’t have severe depression, I don’t have children, and i don’t have a substance abuse disorder

I am a survivor of dv and the agency I’ve worked with for years has restricted my services when I started pushing back on the stuff they did wrong.

It feels like stonewalling.

This is the second agency with a long history with me who is now treating me like I do not matter.

I wish I could pull out a list of reasons I know why my life is worth saving. I could tell them if someone asked.

The dv agency said “we work with survivors not for survivors.” Bolder in the email than the rest of the text. Or that is how it is in my memory. I’m too scared to look.

It implies I haven’t been showing up or doing my part when they have repeatedly have acknowledged I am. It feels like the script has flipped and i don’t know what rules I’m supposed to be following anymore.

I wish I had a list of all of the things I have tried with so much effort. I am well resourced. I was a leader in a field that problem solved for children with disabilities. I apply a lot of it to making my life more manageable. I have worked so so so hard.

On top of it- they didn’t call me for our scheduled appointment because something came up. She told me to call her back. I didn’t. I was told not to call her. I probably could call her if she told me. But I literally never know anymore.

They know I don’t have food, toiletries, money, etc.

Yet they set firmer lines when things got harder for me.

I have been so patient. Unbelievably patient. Despite not having enough to live on, enough to eat.

They didn’t even call me on the phone to hear why I have been upset. They read my emails and that was it. I didn’t expect to get cut off.

I’m scared these dumps are getting annoying but I really hope they help me work out what of the fires I am most likely to be able to put out first. What is the most urgent. Etc. thank you so much for any words of support. 💗

#Anxiety #ChronicIllness #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ADHD #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #DomesticAbuseSurvivors #PTSD #Trauma

TW: abuse and death

It was around the same time I will be displaced from my former bff’s home.

It was another friend who is a school psychologist. I don’t think my friends truly ever cared.

The place I was before this, it was an ex boyfriend’s friend’s. That was the safest I had then. Now I have my car.

At that house, the woman repeatedly would recount the trauma of her brother’s death to me. The way he looked, how it happened, every thought she had about it then and now.

I already experienced complex trauma where I had no one but my therapist. I was now holding space for this woman’s trauma while trying to be in her home and adjust to new rules.

My ex boyfriend became my current boyfriend because he lived there too. I was so scared.

There husband was so judgy. He wouldn’t look at me. He talked down to me. He didn’t respect anything I said. He minimized me. Yet i was basically giving them support and education for helping their disabled child.

His wife wanted pizza for her birthday. That’s all she wanted for her birthday. Pizza Hut. It broke my heart when he didn’t get it for her. She was so happy when my boyfriend came back with pizza for her.

I started being able to see what my life was actually going to look like with this guy. He couldn’t afford taking care of himself, I am legally disabled and don’t have enough money to survive on. We misrepresented his financial situation and that is dangerous for someone like me. He expected me to do everything for him- cook, clean, support, etc.

He would control me with his emotions. He would not let me turn the light on in the room we stayed the entire day because he “didn’t get enough sleep.” I consistently got/get 4 hours. He’d get like 7. And then would send the absolutely worst pictures of himself to his friends with his eyes half open and his mouth drooping saying “I’m so tired I look like this.”

There would be entire weekends where I could not eat because the second I would pick up something, he would say something intentionally triggering and he would watch me immediately put it down.

I dreaded weekends because he would control me the entire time. I couldn’t escape. No one cared enough to even let me talk.

I was terrified.

The woman was also disabled. She separated my future from hers. People believe they are protected from my current state. There are so many fewer protections than people understand.

He started getting road rage. I would sit quietly but he would get so mad where he would drive dangerously. Slowing down and speeding up. If you have been through abuse, you probably know the fear tactic.

When we broke up I knew I would be kicked out despite the woman promising I wouldn’t until I could find a safe place. This, of course, was a promise she wouldn’t keep.

That was the first time I tried to file the grievance against the agency that lost my housing voucher because they just didn’t do anything with my case nearly the entire time.

No I cannot get my housing voucher back. I was lucky to be able to acquire it over a year ago. They haven’t been available again since then.

When I left she made me feel disgusting by telling me to delete any pictures of her son from my phone (which I pretty much already had deleted all of them because I only took ones she asked me to send or to send to her).

I cannot remember everything that happened in that house. Sometimes, when I try to describe what I experienced, it just doesn’t even feel like it sounds “that bad.”

There isn’t safety in my immediate future.

#DomesticAbuseSurvivors #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #CPTSD #PTSD #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #Anxiety #Agoraphobia #PanicAttacks #ChronicIllness #ChronicMigraines #ChronicVestibularMigraine #ADHD #Trauma