Brain Soup Bondage
Dear Friends,
I usually have to deal with a lot of people not understanding my cystic fibrosis. That I am used to. I also am very good at explaining it and my daily life so they sort of can pretend they understand what my life is like. I don't often have to explain my mental health issues, but today I do.
I know lately I haven’t been myself. I’m assuming you all have noticed and this is my attempt to explain that. This is my email to all of you and I’m also going to post parts of this on The Blog. So mainly you’ve probably noticed or been informed of my problems with a female friend. I’ve been unreasonable and heinous. I am the first to admit that. Only in the last couple weeks have I realized WHY I have such problems and why I’m unable to control myself.
Said female friend tends to be a little controlling, and sometimes reminds me of my mother- and with what I’m currently going through she is a PTSD trigger for me. I will explain more of what that means later. For those of you who were at New Years at Eli’s, Boy Who Made Me Cry is a trigger for me because he was following me around when I was still being stalked by my high school teacher. The melt down at New Years was mainly because he is a PTSD trigger and I couldn’t stop flashing back.
First I should explain why I have PTSD. It’s a complicated mess. I was stalked by my history teacher, my mother is abusive, and all the medical things that have happened to me have rolled into one crazy (haha, crazy.) case of PTSD. Anxiety is a big part of my PTSD, and I tend to deal with it with anger and manipulation to try and avoid having flashbacks. I go into survival mode. It’s what I do.
I'm going to keep this internet-anonymous, but I'm not going to pretend that ya'll won't know exactly who and what I'm talking about. I'm so fucking tired of trying to explain why I'm a crazy bitch. I have decided to embrace my crazy, mail it to my friends and post it on the internet.
Why should I deny my inner self the chance to shine? Why try and be a perfect dignified person when you really are a lunatic? Now maybe I'm the good kind of crazy - and that would be wonderful - but I know that rolling around in my skull are paranoid and obsessive thoughts along with a whole ton of sinus goo. And I'm hoping that combination makes either brilliance or at least a great new soup.
I have anxiety. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has the tendency to take over my brain and make me bat-shit crazy. I'm severely sad - this is usually called depression, but I prefer the term 'severely sad.' What can I say, I'm a fan of the alliteration.
I am medicated, and I would perform sexual favors to keep myself on those medications because you don't want to meet un-medicated Carla because she is scary. Let's leave it at that.
I'm going to right now try and describe what PTSD does to my brain. PTSD takes my brain and puts it in bondage gear, which would be all and good if we were practicing safe BDSM. Unfortunately, Brain uses the Safeword and PTSD refuses to stop the torture or cut the bondage ropes. That is the easiest explanation. When the PTSD creeps in I can’t run or hide. It gets me. And I fight so hard with my own brain to make it stop. I get so tired of fighting with my brain I tend to spill over and pick fights with ya’ll. And I’m sorry for that. I know several of you have been the victim of the “Late Night PTSD Rant.” My brain takes anything that bothers me, picks it apart, puts it in email form and hits send. OR even better is when I talk late at night on AIM and you become the victim of a live fight.
Ya’ll know me. You have known me a long time. I LOVE people. I don’t put up with bullshit, but I try never to fight. That is the real me. Causing problems among my friends is the last thing I want to do. I discussed what has been going on with my therapist and we have agreed that I am fighting for my survival. When the PTSD flashbacks start I just want to stop the world and get off. I may seem extremely controlling – and that is me trying to prevent situations in which I know I will have problems. I have begged certain people for help with this, but it really hasn’t made them understand. Or they understand and are reluctant to really help. The one true solution to make me better is to keep me away from my triggers. If I am nowhere near a trigger I am less likely to flash back.
This makes things complicated.
All I can say now is I’m doing my best and I need your support. You all are a lifeline for me, and if I don’t have you, I don’t know what to do. I love you all very much. I hope I have explained this in a way you can understand. Feel free to let me know if you have any questions.
Love,
Carla
I usually have to deal with a lot of people not understanding my cystic fibrosis. That I am used to. I also am very good at explaining it and my daily life so they sort of can pretend they understand what my life is like. I don't often have to explain my mental health issues, but today I do.
I know lately I haven’t been myself. I’m assuming you all have noticed and this is my attempt to explain that. This is my email to all of you and I’m also going to post parts of this on The Blog. So mainly you’ve probably noticed or been informed of my problems with a female friend. I’ve been unreasonable and heinous. I am the first to admit that. Only in the last couple weeks have I realized WHY I have such problems and why I’m unable to control myself.
Said female friend tends to be a little controlling, and sometimes reminds me of my mother- and with what I’m currently going through she is a PTSD trigger for me. I will explain more of what that means later. For those of you who were at New Years at Eli’s, Boy Who Made Me Cry is a trigger for me because he was following me around when I was still being stalked by my high school teacher. The melt down at New Years was mainly because he is a PTSD trigger and I couldn’t stop flashing back.
First I should explain why I have PTSD. It’s a complicated mess. I was stalked by my history teacher, my mother is abusive, and all the medical things that have happened to me have rolled into one crazy (haha, crazy.) case of PTSD. Anxiety is a big part of my PTSD, and I tend to deal with it with anger and manipulation to try and avoid having flashbacks. I go into survival mode. It’s what I do.
I'm going to keep this internet-anonymous, but I'm not going to pretend that ya'll won't know exactly who and what I'm talking about. I'm so fucking tired of trying to explain why I'm a crazy bitch. I have decided to embrace my crazy, mail it to my friends and post it on the internet.
Why should I deny my inner self the chance to shine? Why try and be a perfect dignified person when you really are a lunatic? Now maybe I'm the good kind of crazy - and that would be wonderful - but I know that rolling around in my skull are paranoid and obsessive thoughts along with a whole ton of sinus goo. And I'm hoping that combination makes either brilliance or at least a great new soup.
I have anxiety. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has the tendency to take over my brain and make me bat-shit crazy. I'm severely sad - this is usually called depression, but I prefer the term 'severely sad.' What can I say, I'm a fan of the alliteration.
I am medicated, and I would perform sexual favors to keep myself on those medications because you don't want to meet un-medicated Carla because she is scary. Let's leave it at that.
I'm going to right now try and describe what PTSD does to my brain. PTSD takes my brain and puts it in bondage gear, which would be all and good if we were practicing safe BDSM. Unfortunately, Brain uses the Safeword and PTSD refuses to stop the torture or cut the bondage ropes. That is the easiest explanation. When the PTSD creeps in I can’t run or hide. It gets me. And I fight so hard with my own brain to make it stop. I get so tired of fighting with my brain I tend to spill over and pick fights with ya’ll. And I’m sorry for that. I know several of you have been the victim of the “Late Night PTSD Rant.” My brain takes anything that bothers me, picks it apart, puts it in email form and hits send. OR even better is when I talk late at night on AIM and you become the victim of a live fight.
Ya’ll know me. You have known me a long time. I LOVE people. I don’t put up with bullshit, but I try never to fight. That is the real me. Causing problems among my friends is the last thing I want to do. I discussed what has been going on with my therapist and we have agreed that I am fighting for my survival. When the PTSD flashbacks start I just want to stop the world and get off. I may seem extremely controlling – and that is me trying to prevent situations in which I know I will have problems. I have begged certain people for help with this, but it really hasn’t made them understand. Or they understand and are reluctant to really help. The one true solution to make me better is to keep me away from my triggers. If I am nowhere near a trigger I am less likely to flash back.
This makes things complicated.
All I can say now is I’m doing my best and I need your support. You all are a lifeline for me, and if I don’t have you, I don’t know what to do. I love you all very much. I hope I have explained this in a way you can understand. Feel free to let me know if you have any questions.
Love,
Carla
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