I'm not sure if this is the right place for me. Triggers I guess?

[Havithal]

So I'm not sure if Complex-PTSD is me or not but it sounds so much closer than anything else I have been told.

Diagnostic History

I am one of those rare unicorn true ADHD people to start with. You can always tell True ADHD over fake from the absolute reverse effect stimulants have on you. IE speed makes you sleepy downers wire you up kinda neat but when your coffee makes you snore well... you get the point.

So I'm ADHD
As a child I was diagnosed with, Bipolar Manic depression This was misdiagnosed as I am told because the doctor had no idea about the abuse I was suffering and it is apparently very common to misdiagnose Adhd children as bi polar when they are abused. *shrug*
So I spent the majority of my life believing I was just screwed up .. Recently I was diagnosed with your garden variety PTSD. As I had reached a point in my life where either something had to change I had to have some relief or I just needed to die, that was the feeling.

I desperately want to share my story with SOMEONE ANYONE who might maybe understand, who might be able to identify with me,
You see I have been going to the Local MHMR services as I am currently without a job or any form of money, if it were not for my fiancee I would be homeless at this point. They diagnosed me as PTSD and keep shoving drugs down my throat one after another even though I keep telling them I have always had very very very bad experiences with SSRI drugs and well basically anything, IE Pamelor cause me to have blackouts where I have zero memory yet was bashing holes into walls, (absolutely abnormal behavior for me)

My social worker loves to invalidate me every week telling me how she conquered her ptsd from the one time she was molested and It's basically all in my head and I just have to make the choice to not dwell on it. I left her office absolutely inconsolably furious managed to swallow it down I told My case worker and she is just like *shrug*

I just feel like they are not listening to me at all and they don't care at all about the fact that I need to talk to an actual counselor of some kind. They just tell me I'm on the 6 month to a year wait list, and drug me.

So... here's my story

The first time I was beaten at least as was told to me by my mother I was 2 years old, I had committed some kind of horrendous offense such as dumping the wrong tea glass or some other such capital offense at which point my father jerked me up by the arm and beat me to bruises. This set the pattern for the next 16 years of my life, every infraction was met with brutal efficient beatings, On occasions I was taken to the Emergency room for stitches Had my head sewn up a few times from his mighty Texas star belt buckle.
I remember when my parents would go out on dates or what not they left me with my fathers cousin, he used to take pleasure in beating me almost senseless then locking me into a pitch black room until my parents would come get me, I got this treatment whenever his kid said I took a toy or some such. This was my life.
When I was 8 I had my first memorable true Epiphany in which through the constant rain of kicks and blows of hardened leather or the little adjustment rod from the blinds in the living room , (he loved that thing) I thought to myself, because at this point I had developed this curious ability to separate my conscious mind from the actual physical reality of my situation, well, My thought was in an almost 3rd party way of speaking to myself at the moment, Well *Havithal*  its gonna be fine cause this is gonna end, everything ends, he will get tired and distracted or he will kill you but it's ok man cause it'll be over and then you can go back to your life or death as it may be, I bet heaven is pretty cool, regardless Havi, everything ends .. everything ends... 8 years old, what kind of an epiphany for an 8 year old...

This wasn't to long before the family friend decided I was to delicious a temptation to pass up , and on every opportunity he took it upon himself to get me off alone and explore all manner of debauchery with my young body ,  This continued till I as about 12 Sexual abuse, beating sexual abuse beating, all the while dad made sure to let me know what a stupid retarded faggot piece of trash I was , his language wasn't quite that clean but yeah.

So during all this I had a little sister, and a baby brother as well. I think my mother was just as terrified of my dad as I was, I took a lot more beatings in the long run cause when my baby brother would screw up I'd say I did it , or Id just say something like F you dad , you know distract him so my bubba could live without what I had to suffer I'd always try to get the old mans attention whenever he came home pissed off... I could take it , I alone had the singular ability to take whatever he dished out, Cause I knew ... it had to end ...
at 13 It was discovered I was molested So they shipped me off to a mental hospital for 3 months yay trapped into a building with screaming kids strapped to gurneys, and no that isn't an exaggeration, the wonders of state run mental health care in the early 90s 
There was a staff member there with these creepy glasses who used to stand in my doorway almost every night staring at me while I pretended to sleep, every night I laid there waiting for him to try and rape me, I ended up telling him once if he ever touched me that in no uncertain terms, I would find a way if it cost me everything ... to kill him...I had decided I wouldn't wait anymore .. I wouldn't be that victim anymore and I'd DIE before I let it happen again, I was punished pretty severely for that and even forced to bathe in front of the guy cause they put me on self harm watch after my threat... eventually I got out of there, and my dad split on us mom working 3 jobs me alone ended up in the ghetto areas ... got stabbed ... shot once,... Had to fight almost daily being the only white kid around... So then this guy tries to rape my mom and I throw him down 2 flights of stairs... Get sent to live with dad cause.. My mom couldnt keep me safe or care for me

His girlfriend didn't like me or my brother so good ole dad rents a second house and makes us live there alone in it he showed up occasionally with a bag of Doritos maybe some bologna till CPS showed up and made us move back in with good ole pops, t least till I caught his girlfriend punching my baby brother in the face and had to knock her out, got locked up for that too .. I was 15, My brother was left with no protection, I was thrown into a * of guys who again thought it would be neat to try and molest me being as I was really small, I fought them off quite well and broke a toilet bowl with one guys head, was a cooed halfway house kinda place, saw a guy holding this girl in a corner she was crying ... he was touching her,,, I hit him like a bolt of lightning beat him savagely,
eventually I got out my grandpa saved me from that place and for a time I lived in relativ peace ... till mom and dad got back together.
started all up again ... I don't think I need to describe any further the abuse I suffered under that man but I can say the last time, the very last time I broke my 2 rules you see I always told myself, as I stared deep into his rage filled eyes seeing the spit dribble from his lip as he would punch me, I'll never be like you dad, and as he would scream into my face "hit me you little Faggot Hit me! " I'd never hit him back.
I couldnt let him force me to be him, I wanted to be the good guy so desperately bad ...
till I was 18 and he went to hit my mother, I somehow managed to catch his hand in mid air, how? I dont know he was 6'2 230 lbs of oilfield muscle I was after an extensive growth spurt about 6' 165 lbs, No idea but then I hit him and threw him about 8 feet into a closet .. last image I have of my father before I didnt see him for 16 years was him chasing me down the road throwing bricks at me.

I then spent the next 14 years in Seriously abusive relationship after seriously abusive relationship, My ex used to tell me about how she cheated on me and I'd just take it like I was some virtuous man for standing by my word and never hitting her or giving up on my marriage

There was always some kind of fight, or drama.

So Somehow I got away from her it's all kind of a blur now I had a serious breakdown I think...but then .. out of the blue I meet this woman who..well Saved my life I think..

In the last 5 years I have known what peace feels like (sorta) I've been able to trust a person ... other than my brother or my good uncle or mom, I've known children who look up to me and love me. 
And for some reason now everything crashes on me... it's almost like the peace I found suddenly made everything that ever happened to me come crashing onto  me like .. I don't know...

I'm constantly on edge, I've never been able to stop "watching the door" Or looking behind me, Crowds always terrify me as I'm constantly checking out every person trying to determine everyone's intentions , I have sudden great releases of adrenaline like I am having to fight for my life , Constantly looking for the threat never able to relax, It's so exhausting... I can't seem to handle bosses or being overlooked at work I cant deal with so much and I feel so useless, Like I don't deserve this wonderful woman and family who refuse to judge me and who love me even though im a screwed up mess and it just makes me feel even worse about myself cause I know on this fundamental level That she deserves a man so much less screwed up than me.
All I want, All I want in this world is to not have to fight anymore I feel like my whole life has been a fight to survive, like I've been battling a giant damn bear for 32 years and now at 37 i haven't had to and this may sound weird but it's killing me

How does a survivor, a warrior , a person who refuses to be a damn victim , how do I live in a world where people aren't trying to hurt me anymore?    How do I live with the constant terror of somebody hurting my step kids or my wife, how do I live in a world where I feel like I'm useless....
Like All I've ever been good at is staying alive and Fighting, protecting others... Beating bullies into paste for some weak little kid I don't even know ... or saving a girl I never met from a guy twice my size... cause No one would be a victim as long as I lived..

How does a guy with bones healed incorrectly , crooked teeth, scars , and knuckles flat like slabs of concrete from a thousand punches live in a world where somebody actually loves me when My brain my very core is so used to the constant combat of my life before...

Is it C-PTSD ... I don't know, all I know is , they talk about how I can live a normal life and be normal and not feel afraid or be looking for the next threat... and all I can think is.... what is normal? I've never felt anything but... this...

And part of me hopes maybe somebody out there who might read this has been through this stuff and maybe could tell me.. you know, that I could learn what that is? Or even if you are out there that.. you are not alone and I know what its like too...

I don't know if anything in this post is not ok , I pray I haven't upset anyone , I just think maybe C-ptsd sounds like a better explanation of how I feel than the ptsd they diagnosed me with.

I guess I just really wanted to say what happened to me to some people who would understand and not just tell me to suck it up.
and I want someone to remember that little kid I grieve for who never made it past that moment when I was 8.

So you guys think there is hope for an old roughed up guy like me?

[Three Roses]

Welcome, we're glad you're here! It certainly sounds as to you have CPTSD. You're in the right spot!

There's a book a lot of us here recommend - "Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving". I bought my copy used on the Internet and I'm just starting to read it for the second time. I've already got so much out of it, and felt so much valuation. I felt like for maybe the first time in my life, I could see that I wasn't screwed up, but my upbringing was.

So welcome! 

[Dutch Uncle]

Hi Havithal  , welcome to Out of the Storm and thank you for sharing your story.
I can relate.

Is it C-PTSD ... I don't know, all I know is , they talk about how I can live a normal life and be normal and not feel afraid or be looking for the next threat... and all I can think is.... what is normal? I've never felt anything but... this...

And part of me hopes maybe somebody out there who might read this has been through this stuff and maybe could tell me.. you know, that I could learn what that is? Or even if you are out there that.. you are not alone and I know what its like too...

I don't know if anything in this post is not ok , I pray I haven't upset anyone , I just think maybe C-ptsd sounds like a better explanation of how I feel than the ptsd they diagnosed me with.

I guess I just really wanted to say what happened to me to some people who would understand and not just tell me to suck it up.
and I want someone to remember that little kid I grieve for who never made it past that moment when I was 8.

So you guys think there is hope for an old roughed up guy like me?

If cPTSD resonates with you, or if parts of what's said about cPTSD resonates with you: you're most welcome to investigate, look at it, share on it and try some of the possible remedies that are proposed. This is what I do at least. Step by step. What feels right for me at this moment.

It's not easy to read through all the abuse you endured, but that's quite OK. You didn't say anything wrong. The life-stories we tell each other here, and the stories of recovery and healing as well, are oftentimes hard to read. Because we can so relate. As we know it's even harder to experience this abuse, and even to have experienced this abuse.
So I want to give you a    and tell you: all that abuse was done to you regardless of what you did, and regardless of the person you are. It's not you, it never has been you, it has always been your abusers.
They made you to "suck it up".
I hope and trust this will be a save place to not suck it up, but to spew it out! 

I certainly will remember your younger you, the little kid "who never made it past that moment when I was 8". And I give him a hug. He's welcome here too.
What's been helpful for me, and others here, is to embrace that "Inner Child" as it's referred to.
It's not easy to do, but the child wants you, an embrace from you, and you are still here to give it to him.   
We have a whole board dedicated to the Inner Child and how we (learn to) care for him, so maybe that might be a start for you too.

I hope and wish this will be a place for you.
You're most welcome for sure. 

Dutch.

[mourningdove]

Havithal,

I'm so sorry that you have experienced so much dreadful abuse. Thank you for defending others who were not as strong as you. (I'm crying right now, thinking about everything you went through and how you tried to protect everyone.)

I'm constantly on edge, I've never been able to stop "watching the door" Or looking behind me, Crowds always terrify me as I'm constantly checking out every person trying to determine everyone's intentions , I have sudden great releases of adrenaline like I am having to fight for my life , Constantly looking for the threat never able to relax, It's so exhausting... I can't seem to handle bosses or being overlooked at work I cant deal with so much and I feel so useless

I relate to this 100%.

I just think maybe C-ptsd sounds like a better explanation of how I feel than the ptsd they diagnosed me with.

I agree, and I think that the "professionals" you described have really done you a disservice.

My social worker loves to invalidate me every week telling me how she conquered her ptsd from the one time she was molested and It's basically all in my head and I just have to make the choice to not dwell on it. I left her office absolutely inconsolably furious managed to swallow it down I told My case worker and she is just like *shrug*

Your social worker is full of *. (<I know that the last word will be censored by the site software, but it needs to be said.)

I just feel like they are not listening to me at all and they don't care at all about the fact that I need to talk to an actual counselor of some kind. They just tell me I'm on the 6 month to a year wait list, and drug me.

This is unfortunately very common. It's not you; the system is a dismal failure. But your instincts are correct. OF COURSE you need someone to talk to!!! Of course you need to be heard! I had a very similar experiece with "community mental health" throwing drugs at me that made me sick and not wanting to listen to a word I had to say about what had happened to me.

You are not alone. 

[Havithal]

Thank you guys.

I looked into that book, when I get some money i'll try to order it.

Dove, I just tried to keep people from being hurt. I have always had an extremely overdeveloped sense of empathy I can often look at people and know way way way more than I should about what they are feeling... its kinda weird .... I always seem to know when people have been abused too...

[Dutch Uncle]

I looked into that book, when I get some money i'll try to order it.

There is some good stuff available for free on his own website http://www.pete-walker.com , in the form of articles.

[arpy1]

just wanted to say, Havithal, that i feel so angry for you that you were subjected to all that c**p and had to fight the giant bear for so many years. angry for you that the people who should have protected you did the opposite. angry that you now feel useless and broken when in fact you are a survivor, a strong man, a person to be admired for keeping fighting against the injustice of it all.  and the fact that being in a place now where you are safe, you have fallen apart, is something that i really relate to, and i know a lot of us here do.  you could never have afforded to do that before, now you can, and you can't hold the broken bits together anymore. 

so glad you shared, so glad you were brave enough to get all that out, it can't have been easy.  want you to know that you aren't alone. i know others have said the same here, but you've begun a journey that is walked by so many of us, the silent ones, the victimised ones.  look around the site and let what you read validate your own experience, your own feelings.  what you sense is correct. trust those instincts.

so many of us can't get access to the kind of help we need and end up falling through the gaps in the system.  but at least here we can help each other, 'the halt and the lame' we might be but we do know how to support each other becos we understand.

[Dee]

I couldn't read all of your post, but I read portions.  I just wanted to say of course there is hope for a guy like you.

I feel like I have a really good therapist.  When I was diagnosed as totally and permanently disabled from CPTSD I asked her what is point of even coming.  If I am so messed up, that it is for life, why bother.  She told me that she wouldn't be waisting her time if she thought that wasn't true.  With work, hard work, improvements can be made.  I can and will improve the quality of my life and learn to manage my disability. 

I know you have to wait for therapy, but it is worth the wait.  While you are waiting read the suggested literature and do what you can yourself.  At least you will have a foundation and show how willing you are to do the hard work of therapy.

I am very interested in seeing how you do and the improvements you make.  Also remember your story is unique and important.  Try not to compare.