My counselor said two things to me that put into perspective how serious my C-PTSD and depression is: 1) Yours is the worst case of abuse and neglect I have ever seen, 2) I don’t know how you get out of bed every day. WOW! That seems hopeless. During those sessions, it sure seemed hopeless. I would drag myself through the week till I could get in and see her again. She was my lifeline. We began slowly. We worked on tools and techniques that allowed me to better cope with the week. When the week became easier, we started some long term tool development. She had me buy a PTSD workbook. There is a great section on C-PTSD. In there, I found my affliction. WOW, there might be hope! After a few months, my crisis was over, and I was graduated from therapy.
It has been 9 months since the day she said to me “You are a transformed human being.” WOW! That seems hopeful! Although the tools I acquired with my counselor’s assistance have allowed me from bottoming out since then, life is no cake-walk. I have the same miss-wired brain I have always had. I cycle through lesser depression days… hating myself… feeling weak…. the whole enchilada.
I know there will be another storm to knock me down. There always is. Others CANNOT understand, anymore I can understand what it means to be blind. This is who I am. It’s not my fault. Someone did this too me. Someone I trusted to take care of me. Someone that held me captive and hurt me. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. Why does it always feel like its my fault?!?