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  1. I've been building great stress from putting off this important introduction of myself with the lingering fear that my existence along with any activity it could incite will ultimately be ignored and scoffed upon-- all weekend I've craved badly to simply put together a detailed greeting for myself here as well as for anxietysocialnet, and so here we are Sunday evening 7pm and I'm now pushing myself out there.. My name is Ashley, I'm in my late twenties currently residing in NYS. I live with ADHD, Anxiety, Major Depressive, Panic, PTSD, Social Anxiety/Agoraphobia, Body Dismorphic: Bulimia/Anorexia Nervosa, Self Harm: Dermatillomania/(Recovering cutter). Currently, now I'm exploring the diagnosis of Acute Stress Disorder as a whole new self born nexus inside me that has been fueled by existing traumatic stresses and events that have gone without emotional self feedback resulting sadly in much more than depersonalization.. Anyway, there's a bit into my mental health diagnostic list, it's been quite fascinating. As for enduring all that has gotten me there is a deeper complexity. If I were reading this it would help me to know that I grew up engulfed in violence and emotional abuse within my family life and I haven't been able to get away from it fully. I'm still being abused and I feel weaker than I felt 15 years ago. I have suffered the trauma of **** and years of unrelated domestic abuse from a former partner, not of which I wish to go into right now though.. However, I cannot seem to let myself trust anyone at all anymore, not anyone new.. If a conversation keeps going with a new potential friend, they message me for a few days and I feel more and more uncomfortable that I wind up feeling fearful of my phone as a whole and it's really a terrible feeling. I want to enjoy new people. I really need people in my life, but of course I question why would someone try so hard with someone whose this damaged? That they'd absolutely be better off and without complication if they found someone off a social media site or something rather than a fellow broken nerdy girl you happen to see at a computer repair store.. I do over analyze motive but I never want to be hurt again by someone I've willingly let into my life. I have never been this alone as I am now. I don't know if I "pushed" or "scared" friends away in the past as I have so many embarrassing gaps in my memory that I cannot seem to unlock, but I can remember manic episodes and a few people just walking away when all I needed was a reminder that my panicking would pass.. The kind of people who walk away instead of fight to keep something worth while even if it might be a risk aren't meant to be. They aren't wired to understand in capacity how to unconditionally care for whatever kind of challenge I am. So I keep anything and anyone as far as possible. Most of the people I grew up with very close to have overdosed or committed s****de. The thoughts that run through my mind about starting over with new is overly perplexing. My home life is inconsistent as I had agreed to live with my mother to avoid being homeless after my mental states were worsening. I didn't know I was signing on to take care of her mothers estate as well as be a literal punching bag when she runs out of pills, or money, and drinks too much cough syrup but how stupid of me to forget what it was like to live with her. I can handle the responsibility of that which she cannot in regards to her own moms affairs, but her hate for me runs so deep for trying to keep this house above water and not give her access to money that isn't hers that she's formed a resentment I've never seen in her before. The alcohol and over medication has made this blindsided jealousy of hers quite malicious. A 230 lb child, brooding at the kitchen table for hours knowing you'll eventually really want to make some coffee. She'll bait you with insults of personal inadequacies and try to incite a hurtful dialogue in which she hopes will lead to violence. I feel so numb I can't play the game any longer and it's really effecting my existing fears and anxieties that involve home. I listen to the painful moaning of my messed up mother throughout every day into the night and I'm almost positive she's ready to die. The mumbling of the insane about the failures of the past echoes in the hallway. I'm noticing a new void that's never been present and I'm not certain if I want to be acquainted with it.. Every moment I'm awake I'm shaky and ready to jump. My medicines don't seem to be working too effectively anymore. When I think I'm going to cry I don't and then I shed a few tears at a random moment. My breathing is erratic and my exercises aren't calming down the discomfort in my chest. I think of packing my backpack and going to the closest park for the night and just sleeping there but I'm still working on taking out the garbage every week and walk to the corner store without breaking into panic.. I used to escape easily in my video games but I'm losing interest in them as if they were awful work that had deadlines with zero enjoyment only bringing upon stress and upsetting me and those I'm working with, I can still try but I'm not certain how to get myself back to where I'm not jumping out of my skin every second like this.. I'm starting to find a small escape in the backyard every evening, spending most of the hours pouring myself into my writing which is actually taking me a noticeably longer time than normal on each piece, usually trailing with my mind spinning, and then I suppose I'm glad to find myself outside amongst the wind.. So thanks for reading a bit of my personal madness, it took effort to let myself put this out here but I'm really at a point where I'm unsure of what to do with absolutely no support and screaming for some form of caring direction.. I'm working on communication and I will return messages.. Thank you to this group for the support as well as the invite to be here Ashley
  2. Hi, I'm new here. Recently, after years and years of searching for answers, I finally got it. I got Complex PTSD. This developed from spending my whole life up until I just turned 17, with a BPD mother. My mom does not think she has any issues. My mom is the type of woman that if she said the sky is red and you politely told her it was blue, she'd respond to you with extreme hostility. She is quite capable of hiding it, only revealing it to some. For years on end, my mother always screamed and cursed and fought with my dad. She'd call me names or curse at me and unleash hell on me for the smallest thing. Anything less then 100% submission is unacceptable from me. Any assertiveness, no matter how polite, would earn me a cuss out session where she tells me she shouldnt've had me, threatened to get me medicated, threatened to send me away. Or she might go the other route and threaten s****de and start crying about how everyone is so hateful to her and everyone got a problem but her. If me and my dad were having fun, she'd get heated and start screaming about how I shouldn't have a friendship with my father. Yet at the same time, she was completely overprotective. She had to know exactly where I was at, exactly what I'm doing all the time. Not like a normal parent. Think of a helicopter parent that is pretty much controling your whole life. She was very judgemental. If anybody had any kind of negative flaw, they're complete garbage and they'd lead me to a bad life. And by bad flaw, I mean like misses homework sometimes or anything minor. Apparently that makes them extremely dangerous people to be with. I could never go out. We lived in a small town. She moved to the most rural area so I couldn't walk to anything. I never had any friends so I grew up very withdrawn, no confidence, and had zero social skills. My whole entire school disliked me because how I acted. Not as a bully, as the weirdest kid on earth. Still today I'm not the best at socializing. I had no expierences. My mother did everything for me, so I couldn't learn anything. I was 16 not knowing how to use a washer or anything more advanced then a microwave. So people made fun of me for that too. By this time, I was getting in trouble in school very frequently. Pretty much never did homework, talked out in class, and making socially bad decisions because I didn't know better. I was reffered to a psychiatrist. My mother completely lies to him, while I'm right beside her. She was the little victim and I was a demon child who couldn't be controlled. The worst thing I ever done was raise my voice. I was in shock, crying every psychiatrist visit. Never opened my mouth. One psychiatrists tried to correct my mother. My mother made us stop going. We got another one. As she lied, I'd bottle it all up because she would deny any of her actions or say I caused them. Then I would snap and they would believe her. I got 20 different diagnosis put on and taken off. Including OCD. I had a problem with my mother usong the bathroom, not washing her hands then making my food. Or if we were eating chips she'd scrape off bits in her teeth with a fingernail then stick her hand back im the bag. She made me out as a germaphobe and I got an OCD diagnosis.i started to speak up once. The psychiatrists wanted to change something. Her goto saying was "You're taking away my parental rights". She had more control of me then a person playing someone with a controller in a videogame. This is where I started to escalate. Starting at age 14 I started punching holes in walls to get her to call the cops, which they'd detain me and send me to a brief mental hospital stay. Didn't help. Her lying continued and in total I was put on I think about 26 different medications all total. Then they stopped putting me in the mental hospital and started sending me to basically kiddie jail on charges of destruction of property. I was put on probation. I also had terroristic threats because of my dad, an alchoholic ex marine that isnt nearly half the problem my mom is. If he wasnt drunk he'd be very cool. Remember the terroristic threats. The year is 2014. In 2015 I had stayed a total of 7 months locked away. I cut her off. She begged and begged I talk to her. She was so quick to send me away but f Id leave im in the wrong. I got back, there was a honeymood period where she said I was behaving. Truth of the matter is I did nothing different. After a couple of weeks she was comfortable snapping at me again for everything. We continued fighting for about a year. Then through the new alternative school I was in offered private phyciatrist visits. I took it up and spilt everything.This doctot took off every diagnosis but Bipolar depression and ADHD. This is where profress began. I went home one time, and my mom asked what I was talking about. I actually have the legal right to confidentiality so I didn't tell her. Then I tried suggesting she see the psychiatrist too. She started screaming at me to shut the f up and the psychiatrist needs to mind her own business. I stayed perfectly calm. I told her her actions as my mother impact how I feel. She called my sister and ran me down to her on the phone, right in front of me, which she had a habit of doing. She told my sister I was freaking out because she didnt imstantly jump up to get my meds. It haf nothing to do with that. So I picked up a flower pot and smashed it into a wall. I was furious. She called the cops, and I told the cops to hurry up arrest me and go because Im tired of the abuse. They took me to a different hospital. From there they put me back in kiddie jail, this time with youth services. They put criminal kids and innocent kids in the same place. We go to court, and my mother says I threatened to slit my dad's throat. My dad looks directly at her and says that only happened once, years ago. She tried to make a past issue look present. I got sent away again to a halfway-house feeling of a group home that prepares teens for independent living. I try a homepass with my mom. She took things I purchased with my own money and sold them. I calmly asked her why she did that and she started coming at me saying I'm "going down the road"Next court date, this new judge diretly calls out my mother because by this time, I matured alot from 14 to 16. She said it seemed kind of unusual I have perfect behavior everywhere but home. By this time I cut my mom off. The judge asked if my mom got a Psych Eval done and she said no, which she was told to get one. My dad had to do an Alchoholics thing because if he wasn't working he was drunk or hungover. He-s cool sober. He's been drinking since he was 13. He's 55 now. My mom said my dad couldnt ever quit. Yet he got help before she did. Everyone thought he was a lost cause. I cut off my mom completely. This new psychiatrists I been seeing got the 100% true whole story. She believes I have no psychiatric illness but anxiety and depression. Before I got the PTSD diagnosis anyway. I completely cut my mom off, and I feel like a new person. Every day, all day, I repeated two questions in my head, and I couldnt stop. "what is wrong with me and how do I fix it". Now. I still feel extremely guilty about any assertiveness, very self concious all the time, no self esteem, no expressed unique personality, and cant ever think clearly. My depression and anxiety are still here. Very bad but much better then what it used to be. I had good days before, where I'm not in my head all day, feel confident, can express my self, can get assertive without the fear of being seen as a monster, and I can think clearly. I crave these days. How so I make more of them?
  3. emzi


    Well, it's been a while. Nice to start typing again even if I'm not sure who will read it. I hate to do all these entries when I'm not doing well but it's those times I need to the most. Finals are coming up pretty fast now. I thought I was ok with everything but for some reason it's starting to creep in again. Quite a few times in the last couple weeks I've been too anxious to drive and I've had to ask for a lot of help which I hate. Plus, help has always been unreliable for me. Often people close to me will say they'll help or they'll do something and then they just don't. I guess I hate trusting people to help me. Then there's the anger again. I don't want to process what happened to me. I don't even know fully what happened to me. If it was who I think it was I still him every family gathering. If it was who I think it was why didn't anyone warn me, and why did they trust him? Then there's the other thing. I hope to god that was the thing that traumatized me, because if it was then I know and I don't have to think about someone in my family who I trust violating me that way. Then just anger at the world. Anger about why. Anger at my skin, and my brain and my heart. I guess when you bottle all that up for so long it really makes a mess when you start to pour it out. It's tough, but I just have to keep pushing through it all. Once I get through finals and my boyfriend is back I can feel relatively normal again. I can forget some more and be happy.
  4. emzi


    I'm not an angry person. For most of my life I've been avoiding conflict for the life of me. Even when my brother used to steal and break my dolls I would only cry the most when my mom found out and he got into trouble. In fact, anger is something that's not discussed in our house. It's basically an unwritten rule that we have to smile and act polite or it's just unacceptable. We always have to be happy. I can't count the number of times when my mom has told me I don't get to be mad because I don't have to put up with everything she does or I don't get to be mad because I've had it better than she did. I used to listen. I'm starting to realize that maybe I don't have to. This year has been pretty difficult. I found out a lot of things about my family, I got rear-ended by a drunk driver, and I began to get snippets of memories of sexual abuse from my childhood. I've been trying to be so positive, but lately everything's been changing and it's making me feel like I've once again just stood up before someone's pulled the rug out from under me again. Without alcohol I've had to deal with it, and I've been trying to let myself not be so controlling over what I let myself feel. Sure anger has it's downsides. Sometimes I just want to punch the wall or scream at the world in frustration. It clouds my judgement at times (as any emotion does) and makes it hard to keep up my "nothing to see here" routine. People that I can usually put up with I've had to sever connections with because I just can't do it anymore. I'm less approachable, less of a pushover, but I don't mind. Mostly I'm alright with it because for me the benefits outweigh the detriments. It's a means to an end. If I get angry I can process it all. I get to feel what it did to me, and I get to get rid of all of that negative energy so I can move on. Maybe I won't move on from everything, but at least I can start to heal and take back the power the past has had on me. So if you're reading this, be angry with me. Don't be afraid of it. Anger can be a weapon, but it's also a tool. Depending on how you use it it can sew you up or rip you apart. You can't learn how it works until you experience it for yourself. What is something you're angry about?