Sociopath Community

you look nice, not a fan of the purse though

Xadem said: 

you look nice, not a fan of the purse though

Honestly yeah... now that you mention it. 

hairy monke balls

What post traumatic stress disorder looks like (for me)

The truth is, what post traumatic stress disorder looks like, is, it’s rather inconspicuous at times. You tell people you have PTSD and, if they’re well researched enough on it’s symptoms and, well versed in media portrayals, they know enough to understand, you’ve been through hell.

Ptsd is, itching your skin to the point it bleeds, staring into space, screaming at the top of your lungs in the middle of the night. It’s panic attacks accompanied by beads of sweat, it’s loss of confidence, it’s lack of self worth, it’s lack of identity-

It’s substance abuse, erratic behavior, self destructive behavior, it’s rage turned inward- and more often then not, people blame themselves. It’s, the delusion that, maybe you deserved it, it’s the allusion that, maybe you’re really not that affected- that you’re fine, as long as you don’t think about it.

The truth is, there’s no difference between you and me. On the outside anyway.

But on the inside, it’s, undiagnosible medical symptoms that mimics auto-immune disorders and, a total stripping of the adrenal and cortisol glands due to exacerbation of stress hormones. It’s, sometimes, feeling like you aren’t real- it’s, forgetting, who you were, and the things that have happened in uyour life- sometimes good, sometimes bad.

People think you’re spacey and, have a bad memory. And, issues with attention. Perhaps you appear, depressed, unmotivated, or, “stuck.” Seeming. And people can’t seem to grasp why, you don’t just get up- and start behaving like they do.

What’s wrong with you to let the trash accumulate for 7 weeks, to the point you have to call services to de-bug your house. Why’d you stay in bed for three months, why’d you drop out of university-

Sometimes, I wake up, and don’t even know where I am, for a moment.

And I have dreams, I’m back in the places where it all started. Or, my anxieties take on other forms, more fantasy but, all the same level of, terror inducing. I wake up shaking- or, sometimes just, get the sense something’s off and, start shaking because of that. It’s, emotional flash backs, crying at the dinner table again- every single time. People can’t grasp why you’re so fine one moment and so- visibly unstable the next.

But no one asks any questions, except, are you okay? With the subtext in their eyes screaming, “she’s going to say yes now I hope.” And, with that you say yes, everything is fine.

Because what can they really do about it. 

On the off occasion you try to be honest about it- and off load the years of cemented crust of trauma, flaking it off in chunks like rust with a knife. It, feels good at first, to get it all- out. But then, the sudden, cold air hits your vulnerable dermis and- you’re left feeling so incredibly exposed that it makes you sick, it overwhelms you. Because now you have to see- in the forefront of your vision, the thing you’ve been burying for years with layers upon layers upon layers. So deep into your subconscious, you don’t even know why you’re doing what you’re doing anymore- or why you have the experiences you do, like depressive thoughts- even suicidal thoughts. With seemingly- no explanation.

And when you therapists, with doubt they can fix you, you shrug your shoulders when they ask you why you want to die. It’s hard to say when you’re so dislocated from yourself, you can’t even put the pieces together- how suicidality formed in the first place, and that it stems from trauma, and abuse.

And you’re terrified- because sometimes, you feel like you’re losing control- or, like everything is far away. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You can’t stop the panic attacks, you can’t stop scratching yourself to the point you bleed. You can’t stop leaving your body and, you can’t get back the sensations that have been deadened like dull nerves or your arms which seem to float away and leave your body- you can’t stop the dreams, the emotional flash backs, you can’t stop getting sick from emotional turmoil in your stomach that overwhelms your physiology, you can’t stop being tired- and sleeping all the time, you can’t GET a grip of yourself, you can’t recognize yourself in the mirror, you can’t get up and go to school or work like everyone else, you can’t stop staring into outer space no matter how many times somebody snaps their fingers in front of your face, you can’t get back the time or the memory you dissociate from completely-

And when it gets really bad, you can’t eat because the noise is so loud in your head, the outside world is too overwhelming even though it’s just a cafeteria of a mental hospital- you put your hands over your ears and, cry over your plate of food because you’re starving but can’t eat it- and it feels terrifying just to- walk down the hallway sometimes or, turn a corner you don’t normally turn or- drive 30 minutes outside your normal comfort zone.

You’re terrified of people, and trusting them is something you’ve convinced yourself you can do but, you can’t- and you subconsciously always keep them at arms lengths distance, and push them away when they’ve set off the fear and protection mechanisms hard wired into you by your trauma.

It’s leaving the room or you’ll be sick, because someone mentioned the triggering words that you send your mind into a tail spin- it’s, mental breakdowns in random bathrooms, and saying you have to leave early from a party- it’s, yelling at your abuser even though they’re not in the room anymore and you’re just taking your shit out on someone else- in some other scenario- though for you, you’re somewhere else.

And you slowly, close in. Missing out on life, because you’re too tired to participate, and you make excuses not to go- because you don’t want to think anymore. Isolation. Distraction. 8 gallons of iced coffee intravenously a day, whatever it takes to keep you going, but, you’re just getting by. And even if you do, manage to show up for something- you’re only halfway there. You star off into the distance and, can’t really “click in” to the moment- at all. You’re miles away. You stand away from the crowds, and, talk to no one. Staring at the bottom of your solo cup or, fiddling with the ice with your straw.

You don’t want part of anybody’s business anymore, because you’ve seen too much. You don’t want much to do with anything anymore, or anyone. And you’re slightly, resentful- or angry at the world at times- there is a destructive rage inside you that can be awoken if you’re not careful- and all someone has to do is, throw a match to start the fire.

And people can’t understand why you’re so unhinged. But it’s hard to act, normal- when you’re reality is, defabricated in front of you and, your sense of self, and completely washed away. What matters then- talking into a void- you could say anything, do anything, be a beam of chaos and haphazard spontaneity for all you care- because nothing has any repercussions, when you’re getting in trouble in a reality, you’re so far removed from- you can’t even care about it.

You don’t connect with your own self, much less others- though you wish you could. You do everything you can to fit in, but- until you learn who you are yourself and to get in touch with yourself, the shoes are never really going to fit right.

And you’re always, questioning, yourself and, doubting yourself- you’re, having to make it a conscious habit, to respect yourself and your boundaries- after learning what those even are. And, to- not let others treat you certain ways because, you’ve learned it is wrong- even though, you go back and forth about it from time to time- is it really? Maybe it really was just all my fault.

Maybe I’m just crazy.

And you look it too-

In the middle of a stressful conversation with someone, you just walk into a corner saying nothing- and stare at it quietly for a moment. And when they ask you continually you why you aren’t responding anymore- you don’t hear them. Reality’s gone black and, you slip down into a fetal position and start screaming and sobbing simultaneously, and rocking back and forth trying to soothe yourself-

And this, same movement continues, while you try to rock yourself to sleep to stop the restless legs and the anxiety in your chest- the thoughts that circle round and round like a demonic train track designed to torture you- slowly.

You rock back and forth whispering to yourself whilst sweating profusely- at 3am, “it’s going to be okay.” 132 times- whatever it takes to make it stop.

And, in the middle of the day, any normal day. Someone mentions a word- and your body turns to hot lava, and then ice- and suddenly, all the air has been sucked out of your lungs- and it feels like trying to breathe with your head in a toilet. Your chest turns to ice and as you’re gripping it, you walk around because, there’s this sense of urgency like- a fire is happening and we must all escape- now, NOW. NOW or you will surely die.

But there’s no where to go because, well you’re in a mental hospital and, the emergency that’s happening is, in your head. You can’t really out run it. Your reality slips through your finger tips and becomes farther, and farther away- your attachment to it is, intangible.

And you lean into a wall, trying to breath. Bracing yourself against it, firmly pressing your forehead into it. In, and out. While your mind is going 600mph, flashing, thoughts and images through your head which, you can’t- stop. You try to breath, in, and out. Each though interrupts your attempted zen like a hiccup. It’s hard to remain focused, on anything. Much less, your attempted meditation- but you keep trying to grip the reality firmly and bring yourself back to ground level.

But immediate stabilization is impossible, and after you just made a fool of yourself screaming and sobbing into a wall- violently, because you couldn’t STOP the things happening to you- in your head- you, become, violently depressive and- want to do anything you can to, forget. What just happened. You become, ashamed because it’s a reminder of how, useless your trauma has rendered you, and how much it’s taken of your life from how debilitating it is.

It’s, more than self pity, it’s a desire to escape a problem that resides you in you, and has been tormenting you for years- but you *can’t*.

With years of therapy it’s somewhat possible, but it’s still hard, it requires a lot of work. To bring a person back, from how far gone one can go with the illness- it’s remarkable the difference, of a recovering individual- vs. someone who is in the worst throws, of it.

PTSD, may not be noticable on the surface. But, if you’re experiencing symptoms, the time is now to ask for help. It is time to show yourself, compassion, and kindness- and if you can’t, it’s time to learn how. It’s time to stop the suffering and improve your quality of life- one step at a time. And just remember, practice makes ... easier.

Breath.

-blanc 

It's passed amazing and has entered baffling how much energy and time you can spend narratively feeling sorry for yourself through appropriated words and phrases. 

If you’re interested in understanding why dissociation occurs in an individual- how it does, and the outside signs someone may have who struggles with it in any sense, please watch it in it’s entirety. 

Key details I wanted to highlight was, he mentioned a schism can occur from wanting attachment from caregivers in early childhood and then also feeling conflicted because they fear their caregiver. I didn’t know this could cause dissociation, but I’ve had this issue. 

Like, growing up I remember that was one of the biggest, like, topics for me that affected me was, I desperately wanted, a relationship with either of my parents but, didn’t really have one. And they weren’t capable of reciprocating that sort of thing. 

It’s very helpful to understand the three types of structural dissociation, primary second and tertiary. 

I would have to read the book he recommends to know more- as I feel like clinically speaking this is a very general introduction and, scratches the surface of it really if you’re interested in studying it in depth. 

And then we he started listing the signs someone may be struggling with some form of structural dissociation, and how ANP’s and EP’s interact, as they function, it helped me to get better clarity on *why* I have certain things going on- which I wasn’t sure, what that was sort of caused by. 

Particularly the, lack of decision, and self destructive category of behaviors that are result of triggers. 

I really appreciate learning about this from a clinical perspective as it’s brought a lot more clarity as to *why* xyz thing is going on, what it’s related to, etc. So I can better name the problem in therapy- and feel less confused when explaining it and talking about it. 

Instead of just being sort of confused by this swirling of overwhelming symptoms you can’t grasp or handle, or make sense of- you sort of have this structured list of things in your head you can go, I need to work on this, this, this, this, this. 

And sort of knock it out more quickly and systematically without being overwhelmed. 

There were certain things I just didn’t think ot mention to my therapist for example, because I didn’t know they were considered symptoms of a larger problem that related to any sort of disorder, and could be fixed by directly addressing it in therapy. Or perhaps, I just didn’t know how to talk about it, or even felt, ashamed of it, due to the confusion about what’s causing it- you can start to sort of blame yourself or just loathe yourself for being that way. 

I like all the DBT and CBT work books, and the therapeutic approach makes sense. And the Pete walker books are also good. But these seem to be looking at things from a sort of, pedestrian, perspective- not really explaining why or how things are happening but just, pacifying your emotions about it all. 

It promises you change but then, it only works to a certain extent. You improve leaps in bounds in some areas- and in others, you are still 100% inhabited by the issues that weren’t addressed. 

These type of “therapy manuals” aren’t, detailed and comprehensive enough to really provide the level of care someone needs when addressing something like complex PTSD in it’s entirety. I personally think it requires a very attentive therapist who, really knows what they’re doing- and is specialized in caring for these type of disorders- and the problems that often go along with them. 

It takes years of research, study, and experience to really be qualified enough to handle complex-ptsd, or dissociative patients in my opinion. And that’s why, there was a huge difference with the timeliness of progress and the understanding I felt was reciprocated in meetings- when talking with specialized and highly experienced professionals- vs, sitting in therapy with someone who just started being a therapist that year- and wasn’t specialized in anything at all to do with trauma disorders. 

I personally feel like my care during and following mental hospitalization was borderline negligent, as I wasn’t put with the right type of professionals to address my clear diagnoses- despite them being very aware of the severity of the issue I was struggling with. (PTSD and suicide). Due to the high percentage of people with PTSD who commit suicide, I think that the error here truly does rely on the field of psychiatry and the quality of work done here for these individuals- as well as a lack of awareness in the community about this. 

Complex trauma requires complex, specific, on going therapy with highly qualified individuals- involving multiple different types of treatment simultaneously for best out come. And instead I was given one size fits all therapists, treatment program, pamphlets, and books- assigned to therapists who weren’t qualified to address my issues- given medications that don’t work for me, and on top of that, the medical aspect of depression, anxiety and ptsd regarding metabolic deficiencies and health and wellness, diet, and life style changes was not addressed. I was simply handed some coping mechanisms, and then I pretended to be better than I really was to get a quick release- to get out of the nightmare that psych wards are. Due to being roomed and boarded with patients who were in full tilt psychosis- there wasn’t much sleep, and for someone struggling with severe panic attacks- the environment wasn’t ideal to focus on treatment in anyway- it was more like torture. With other patients mentioning triggering words, therapists and counselors who yelled at me, and busy noisy loud flourescent cafeterias, feeling trapped and not allowed to go outside much- and living like a prisoner instead of a human being- with nothing to do. 

I’m fortunate the system was there at all, it’s better than nothing certainly- but, if you don’t take it upon yourself to continue researching treatment methods and avidly pursuing treatment for your betterment, improvement is unlikely to occur. As noted, with personality disorders and depression being a potential co-morbidity, seeking change may be a difficult notion for the patient to even approach the idea of. Most don’t even believe in therapy and medication, they may be paranoid and untrusting of therapists etc., they may be financially limited or simply too busy for therapy- there may be an on going substance abuse issue that would prohibit them from seeking treatment (addiction does a number on a persons psychology) and, they may not believe they can get better at all, they may be too depressed and suicidal to go- and loathe themselves enough not to seek treatment- and, lastly, if they have a personality disorder- oversight is unlikely, and having the self awareness of the issues at hand is a) hard to come by and b) hard to understand and c) difficult to bring that person who is either a- uneducated on the topic of psychotherapy and their disorder or b- has some other issue causing them to hold back from therapy. 

These vids are great so ill prolly keep posting them. 

If you want to know what the video is about look in the youtube comment that is pinned where he writes a brief description and read the description I guess. (Youtube doesn’t let me copy and paste from the app on an iPad) 

But yeah, my thoughts while watching this video- it makes me think back to when the “on set” of PTSD started showing up more severely than ever before in my life. He mentions that it can get set off by an event, or by feeling safe or ready to take on the issue. And both of these examples happened for me. 

When I was at university, I was studying pre-med and was doing really well, I was fairly independent living in a new dorm, had an amazingly supportive and loving relationship with a girl, and- my grandmother was taking good care of me, I had a community of friends, I had, security- on the campus I lived in, a car, and was just doing really well all in all, pursuing all my goals and, enjoying my involvements. And I also had the consistency of a very loving and caring best friend in my life at the time so I was never really alone. I was safe supported and stable, and doing well- 

and my brain took that, safety, of independence and freedom from my previously really bad circumstances- and my mind just took a complete shit one day. I was getting nightmares, and, started having mental breakdowns, and depressive crying episodes- a lot of depression, suicidal thoughts. I thought I just, “didn’t handle stress well.” And- I don’t really remember, what I was crying about, or what the mental breakdowns were about- but, I remember, what I looked like sort of- patchy memory of, what those breakdowns and depressive episodes would look like on me- as far as behavior went. 

I don’t really know what was happening internally or what I was thinking about, though. I just can’t remember, it was a long time ago and, I must of pushed it out of my mind. 

I know one day, at university, there was this approaching deadline. Where, I had the option to go home for the summer, instead of staying there and taking more classes. I thought that, if I took the opportunity to go home- and try and “make things right” with my family, that would give me closure and allow me to, “get back to normal” or whatever. 

I just thought, that just must be the issue you know, being disowned is kind of stressful so, I thought maybe I needed healing in that area. But, after that can of worms opened, it just made things worse. At home. 

I felt my first inkling of a panic attack in my adult life (though I’d had them as a child, unwittingly knowing they were panic attacks), as I was coming home and I saw the city sky line of, my home town in the distance. It was sort of emotional for me, seeing it- but my tears retreated in a second and, it turned to immediate, overwhelming panic. Everything went cold, my hands went clammy, I couldn’t breath. I felt sick to my stomach. I actually had to ask the car to pull over on the side of the road, as I saw the city sky line, to vomit. 

I had to push everything out of my mind and think about other people and things I was going to do in the city while home- instead of, my home life and the things troubling my mind. 

- 

the second example of resurfacing I had was, when my car broke down. About a year after I had gone home for that summer- I was back in school that year and my nose was in a book the entire year. I had made some friends in the medical circuit and we were hanging out at this posh coffee shop where a lot of other medical students and young interns hang out in the area. Unfortunately, this coffee shop was actually same coffee shop I went to the night I was disowned by my family, wound up homeless. This happened a few months before I got into the pre-med program at that university- which I did on purpose, to get the scholarship and my grandmothers care, and, something included with the scholarship was, room and board. You see what I’m getting at. 

But yeah, the time when I was homeless was sort of traumatic I guess, and so it already set me off. I was already in a heightened anxious state. I could feel it coming on, and the milder symptoms of dissociation I get, as well as feeling sick or, on the verge of, emotionally falling apart. Gittery legs and, inability to focus on the conversation, hyper vigilance, feeling overwhelmed, and like I couldn’t breath. My heart racing. 

At the time I still didn’t really know, what anxiety dissociation and panic attacks were, or the symptoms of them. I just was like, “oh no, I’m feeling really weird and I want it stop.” Lol 

I thought that maybe I didn’t have enough food in my stomach so I ate a cupcake and more coffee thinking that would help me feel better- as if it were a hypoglycemic attack or something. I get low blood sugar sometimes. 

That, didn’t help at all. I decided I just, felt like I needed to get out of there- so we got in my car and I was driving my friend Nikki to get something from her house and then we were going to do something after that, or maybe we were stopping by a bank, it was something like that. I can’t remember what our plans were for the evening, whatever they were- they never ended up happening. 

My car randomly started breaking down, and I was in an unknown area of town. We walked on the side walks of a busy street for a while looking for a bathroom and somewhere to charge a phone or something? I think at this point I was like mentally “tripping” out as in like, it’s like, my memory became very patchy here as I was lost in the overwhelm of the panic attack and feelings of dissociation and hyper vigilance etc, that I actually wasn’t like focusing or participating or paying attention to my reality very well. 

I just remember feeling really panicked, really sick and worried and I couldn’t stop worrying. I was freaking, out. And all we were doing was, walking on a side walk. 

But for me, it felt like running from three huge dinosaurs about to eat me alive. 

I was acting all nervous and breathing heavily looking around like a paranoid crack head, and just sort of following my friends not saying anything. I didn’t want them to think I was weird I guess. And then we got back to the car- I thought if I got back to my car everything would be fine. 

Like maybe it was just the street I was on that was worrying me. I felt defenseless and in danger. 

But, the fear didn’t go away at all, the panic attack just took over me at this point and I leaned against my broken down car and like put my hands on my knees and grabbing my chest.  And my friend was like are you ok? And I was like, my stomach hurts I just don’t feel good- 

and then I said I needed to sit down and I like sat in my car and put my head on the steering wheel like trying to calm down and my friend came up to me talking and shit about what we should do- who was going to come pick us up saying we were stranded and shit. And I just snapped at him kind of, not yelling but, snappily said like, “i need you to leave me alone right now I’m sorry i really dont feel good, i really dont feel good” and I’m like “please. Please leave me alone.” 

I felt like his presence was making it worse? Because I couldn’t focus, like, I needed to focus on not being there- and he was making me aware I was there, in a bad situation. 

And yeah I was in that panic attack for nearly 2 hours. Even after being picked up by someone, I continued shaking and crying and freaking out unable to breath and just internally feeling like utter shit for quite a while. I had to like blast the AC and focus on my breathing, is what my head told me  to do (a nurse had told me how to do a breathing exercise once in Europe when i was vomiting in a hotel lobby in Italy)... Being inexperienced at dealing with it, it was hard to focus my thoughts and my breathing. 

And I was being afraid of very irrational things- like, everything was freaking me out. Absolutely everything. I just remember shaking really bad and demanding that someone hug me and I grabbed onto them and wouldn’t let go as I stood there shaking like a leaf. For some reason I guess that was grounding me and calming me, grabbing onto another person and having them hold me tightly, and trying to synchronize with their breathing- because mine was too whack.