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A major symptom of C-PTSD is proneness to self-abandoning tendencies, so I was wondering if anyone's noticed theirs in relation to oral hygiene.

I had decent enough teeth in early childhood, but around age 10, when my parents separated and I first discovered my depression and ASD, my oral hygiene began sliding further and further.
I would brush my teeth less and less often (flossing almost never).
In times like now, where I'm in a major depressive episode, I can only bring myself to brush maybe 2-4 days a week.

The vicious cycle goes something like this.
I know I have to brush my teeth, and I know I'll feel a little better once I do it, but I just can't bring myself to do so.
I still can't place my finger on the exact cause of the aversion, but it's there.
Maybe, maybe, I'll swish with some mouthwash, but I know that's a poor substitute.
I wake up the next day, grime still on my once-pearly whites, and feel shame and self-loathing for not just getting it over with.

Up until a few months ago, I assumed it was just based in "laziness" (or at least that's what my inner critic told me).
Lately, I'm starting to consider that it's a self-abandonment process, based on my dysfunctional household.
My parents would take me to the dentist every 2-4 years, instead of every six months as is standard.
I understand that they had a lot on their plates, but it still feels somewhat neglectful to space it out so long.

Last time I was at the dentist, I got chewed out (no pun intended) for not keeping up on my oral health.
He asked why I haven't been regularly brushing and flossing; I didn't have an answer.
What was I supposed to say? "Sorry, I didn't brush because I don't think I deserve it"?
On the way back, my Dad yelled at me in the car, triggering a heavy emotional flashback.

I don't want to end up with all my teeth rotting or removed, but these nightmare scenarios just make me even more discouraged.

Hey kiddo, I'm glad to see ya.
I want to tell you about some pretty heavy stuff, but if you hear me out, we can stay up and watch cartoons tonight!
That sound good?
Here goes.

This afternoon I was digging through the closet and found a family photo from Christmas 2000 or 2001.
Your face was scrunched up and distraught, struggling to hold back your tears.
Mom was squeezing your chubby toddler arm in solidarity.
I wanna be that supportive hand for you now.

I'll never forget that look on your face.
I spent so long trying to understand and reconnect with your emotions, but seeing your face made them all come flooding back at once.
I'm so sorry you've had to cope with this pain for so long.
You didn't deserve this.
You deserve so much love and being cared for, more than you realize.

I understand why you don't come out of hiding very often.
We grew up in a hugely dysfunctional family.
Lonely nights, mom and dad's bitter arguments shooting through the paper-thin bedroom walls into your innocent ears.
Sometimes we seem to go months without seeing each other.
That's not your fault.

I'm gonna help you come out of your shell.
If you wanna cry or get angry, do it!
I know it's hard to do so when there's always folks walking around this house and being noisy, but I'll always be here to listen.
Meanwhile, I'll help us do stuff like brush our teeth regularly and shower; all the boring stuff that makes our lives a lot better.

We're gonna work together from now on.

I thought gaining insight into my childhood trauma would've strengthened my resolve and compassion for myself.
Instead, I've just further devolved into a blubbering, dissociating mess.

As I've talked about before on here, living at home triggers my EFs, memories of my dad's emotional abuse lingers like the smell of rotten fruit.
I know I have to get a job and make enough money to get back on my feet and back to Austin, but it all just seems so daunting.
It's not that I think I'm "too good" for minimum-wage jobs (I was working one in Austin), I just don't have the stamina anymore.
I feel fragile and weak on the best of days, the idea of breaking my back for little pay from unsympathetic middle managers is overwhelming.
My only motivation these days is fear, and fear's never been a constructive force for me.
Everything just seems impossible.

Here's a snapshot of how pathetic my life is at the moment.
I've been sleeping from about 4 AM to 2 PM, living life in a dissociative stupor.
I've been writing articles for different publications from time to time, but beyond that I haven't been productive in the slightest.
I spend most of my day muttering profanities under my breath while lying on my bed.
Occasionally I pause to listen to a new album or watch a video, but my concentration often gives in within half an hour.
I wait for my mom to get home, since she's the only one here who even halfway understands my dilemma, but she's soon pulled away by other family members or too tired to interact.
I don't have a car and all my friends live at least five miles away, so my only contact with the outside world comes from texting.
At night, I can push myself into watching maybe one or two episodes of my favorite shows, before lethargy takes hold and I shut off the TV.
I then spend the rest of the night reading morbid Wikipedia articles in the dark.
Murdered rappers, accidents on film sets, theme park deaths.

I kinda envy my autistic twin brother.
For one, he doesn't feel the need to live up to some ill-defined potential or be in the right neighborhood or social scenes.
He can just sit at his computer all day, watch YouTube, eat all the junk food I'm too health-conscious to ask for, have every need and desire catered to.
Sure, if I was him I'd miss out on a higher intellect, autonomy, not to mention more, er, carnal pleasures, but I wouldn't feel so bad all the time either.

Anyway, I don't have faith in myself that I can overcome this.
I have recurring nightmares of being 30 and still living here, even more helpless and hopeless than my brother.
I know my dilemma isn't that bad in the scheme of things, which just makes me feel worse that I've been raised to see life's speedbumps as unstoppable barriers.
I'm only 20 and I feel like I've already put myself irreparably behind.
I've screwed up the chances I've been given and I don't know if I deserve another.

[TW: mention of emotional abuse, economic issues]

(This one is kinda similar to mourningdove's "trapped in my hometown" thread but I was worried about hijacking that one, so I'll post my specific dilemma here.)
TW: mention of emotional abuse, economic issues

I feel like I've been in one long, nauseating EF since I've been back in my family's house.
Lemme briefly explain how I got here.
This past summer, I moved in with my favorite uncle in Austin.
It was a rad experience - I got my first paying job, dove headfirst into the stand-up comedy scene I'd wanted to join for years, and rekindled friendships with folks who go to UT.
The perfect steppingstone to the adulthood I've longed for since I was a friendless, traumatized ten year old.

It was initially planned that I would have my own room in return for my rent, but my uncle ended up getting another tenant without letting us know.
Because of this, he decided my staying here would be a much shorter-term deal than initially planned.
He ended up giving me a stern ultimatum to find a Craigslist listing or go back home.
Dude's a supremely chill bohemian, but this time he yelled at me and called me a name I won't say here.
I was absolutely demoralized; not seeing a possible way out of this since my job stopped giving me hours, I moved back home mid-September.
On my 20th birthday of all days.
Adding insult to injury, my grandma moved in with my family while I was away, so now I don't even have a room to myself anymore.
I spend my nights tossing and turning on the living room couch, any last shred of privacy or autonomy stripped away.

I feel as trapped, powerless, and isolated as I did when I was a kid.
Away from home for the first time, I had distance from my situation and validated my feelings of abandonment and emotional abuse.
All my newfound insight evaporates when I'm around my Dad raising his voice, or my autistic brother running our family ragged.
Dad's reined in his abusive tendencies some over the past few years, but just being around him makes me tense up in remembrance.
He still doesn't acknowledge the effect he's had on me, which makes me worry that I've made the whole thing up because I want an excuse for being a screw-up.
I don't have the energy to plan my next step, fulfill obligations, maintain hygiene & grooming,  or even do what I love like stand-up or watching Simpsons episodes.
Only in the past week have I been pushing myself out the house, to go on dates.

My parents (and my psychiatrist) are glad I'm back, but they don't fully understand how discouraging and upsetting this situation is for me.

Hiya! I'm a 20 year old dude who writes about pop-culture, performs stand-up, and plays guitar into the wee hours of the night.
I'm also learning to cope with C-PTSD, along with clinical depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and obsessive thoughts.

The latter three I've recognized and faced since I was 10 or 11, but C-PTSD is a recent discovery for me.
I first became aware of it a few months back when my mom referred me to a book by, you guessed it, Pete Walker.
I was initially reluctant to consider it; my mind pulled out all the classic excuses, like "Oh, I'm just being a baby!", "PTSD is just a thing for veterans, right?", and that chart-topping hit: "C'mon, it wasn't that bad!"
Once I began reading, however, Walker's insight helped me view my experiences through a new, more compassionate lens.

I'm still excavating all the various causes, but the crux of my C-PTSD stems from my dad's emotional abuse/neglect and the toll of looking after my severely autistic twin brother.
It sounds ridiculous, but I only recently realized maybe it wasn't totally normal to frantically scurry and hide when my dad came home. That maybe my merciless inner critic is a flaw, not an asset.
I just assumed everyone walked around with a similar sense of toxic shame.

I'm taking a gap year from school and am currently unemployed, so all this newfound free time has opened me up to a great deal of introspection (for better or worse).
Just articulating my thoughts like this has helped in its own way towards my recovery, and I'm looking forward to sharing and learning more here!