Death blooms [cw; discussions of c-ptsd and experiences]

[If you are struggling in the same way I have, please get help. Do not stay silent about it. https://findahelpline.com/]

This is probably the only place I'm gonna publicly talk about it because I don't want to bring dishonor to my Happy Mu Shu Palace™ everywhere else.

But very recently, I've been diagnosed with C-PTSD, or complex post traumatic stress disorder. I literally only told my significant other, friends, and associates about it within the past couple of hours. Because I was scared early on. I know mental health recognition is much better nowadays, but I've always had the fear of being proven as "weak." Really, I knew I'd been traumatized by one thing or another, whether as a child or an adult, but I've learned since then it's likely multiple things, spanning as recent as my last days on Spacehey. So, you know.. the gore and CSEM. Fun stuff.

Living with this sort of thing without a label made me feel super messed up. Like despite living as an autistic person, I just wasn't "built" right. Someone put my puzzle pieces in wrong. Or someone maybe assembled me the wrong way.

I was nearly always experiencing depersonalization, soon beginning to experience derealization in individual episodes rather than the combined generalization of dissociation. Sick to my fucking stomach all the time, feeling like I'm gonna vomit. Couldn't hold up a friendship for the life of me. Plagued by intrusive thoughts of reminders and shame. Everyone's always pointed out I'm anxious when it comes to attachment. I'm flip-flopping between amnesia and being able to remember everything. My brain gives in to debate about whether my abusers deserve revenge or if they just needed to be loved the way I am right now. Whether it was a special thing with me or not. Feeling so ashamed and disgusting like I was a complete black sheep to the rest of my fellow humans. Losing faith in Christianity. So many things that just fit as the pieces of very typical C-PTSD.

Again, I knew it was always there. It just felt like this was the worst time possible for a label.

In the end, it doesn't matter. I know the name of it now. It hits heavier now that a couple of days have passed rather than in the moment that I was finally told. Grief is heavy. It hurts. It feels like now it's known something has been taken from me and I'm still hurting.

But knowing other people have the same thing makes me feel a little better. I'm not too alone in this. I have support. It's just a heavy straw on my back that's already packed with other heavy straws.

You're loved. I know it's a doubtful thought sometimes, but it's true. Someone out there loves you, just as someone loves me. I've struggled to learn and accept that, too.

- david