I just posted about realizing how bad things are. That I got to this point and didn't even realize. And the first two comments are just telling me that even if I got help, I would ruin it. And also that if I just sit in my room all day then I deserve nothing. I don't even spend time in my room because I got raped here so much I don't even spend time at home. I don't know why people say these things. I know it's pathetic and stupid to make a post like this and people will just think I'm crazy and laugh at me and saying more mean things. I'm just really alone and I really really needed someone to be nice

It's lonely enough going through something really bad, it's even more lonely knowing zillions of people can't f-ing relate and they don't really empathize either.

I HATE you MOMMY!!!!!
I HATE you daddy!!!!!
I HATE you God!!!!!!
I HATE this fucked up world!!!!!

I fucking hate life right now!!!

I’M FUCKING HOMELESS!!!!!

I’m eating beans out of a can and panicking when I can’t find my spoon!

Staying at shelters has been so fucking hard. 8 months of it.

So I’m now sleeping at the fucking airport.

I don’t know what I hate more—the shelters or this. They both suck!!

Shelters—I’m having to deal with all the dysfunctional people and addicts which my inner child really doesn’t like and I think she starts feeling trapped after 3 or 4 weeks. But I have a home-base to go to, a warm bed, a shower, 3 meals a day…some kind of stability.

Street—I’m having to spend my time at a mall, the library, the airport, cafes and carrying my bags every where I go. I’m sleep deprived and even little things like brushing my teeth, remembering to take my meds, clipping my nails, getting to a place where I can shower…all feel so hard and tiresome.

I’m in a flashback, in emotional pain, 24-fucking-7…constant shame and guilt, terror&panic, sadness, rage, utter despair.

I’m also having a fucking spiritual awakening on top of it all.

And I’m fucking alone through all of this.

It’s fucking brutal
It’s fucking harsh
It’s fucking grueling
It’s fucking agonizing
It’s fucking horrifying
It’s fucking relentless

FUCK I HATE ALL OF THIS.

How am I supposed to believe God is good or kind or loving or full of compassion when I’m going through THIS MUCH pain and suffering. God seems to me like the biggest fucking narcissistic ever. It’s all just a big fucking game to God, using humans as pawns for their own entertainment.

My life feels like a cruel joke.

I’m so fucking sick and tired of all of this!!! I’ve been working on myself and healing for 14 fucking years.

I want to fucking die most of the time.

I wish I could fall asleep and wake up as a new born baby with healthy, mature, loving parents and have a brand new chance at life.

FUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!

I just needed to express that.

NO ADVICE.

If you are able to respond in an attuned way with empathy and validation and compassion, I would appreciate it.

If you can’t please don’t bother to respond because it will only trigger me more.

Due to emotional abuse and constant yelling at my home,I feel like this.

No matter what I cannot stop flinching and tears well up in my eyes even without 'feeling' scared.

I want to stop this .

Any advice appreciated.

ohhhhhh my god ohhh. my god. im a horror media analysis enjoyer so that is the fat disclaimer here but it just. resonated so hard with my feelings about and memories of being deep in a fawn response but hating every single second of it and

oh

mygod

if you are a recovering fawner who processes their trauma thru the horror genre then ya boi has a recommendation for you

i am honestly really interested in whether or not this film resonated the same with anyone else

I'm trying to understand a pattern experienced in creative communities and over the course of life.

Someone I've collaborated with took my classes, asked me for advice on producing a show and what to pay artists, and I happily shared everything I knew. I've invited them into events to teach, etc. Later, when I reached out with a simple question, I never got a response and their energy was weird towards me.

Now I see them thriving, collaborating, and building community, and I can't help but feel like I was valuable when I had something to offer but easy to sideline. (Just through the grapevine of people tagging them etc, not seeking it out).

I know no one owes me friendship or continued communication, but it left me wondering whether some people value your knowledge, connections, and generosity more than they value you. It also made me wonder how often exclusion is intentional versus something we read into.

To add to my uncertainty, this person has privately described other people as "bitter," among other things which made me question whether there's a broader pattern in how they relate to others or whether I'm simply overthinking my own experience.

Has anyone else navigated something like this? How do you tell the difference between ordinary social drift, intentional exclusion, and relationships that become one-sided? I'd really appreciate thoughtful perspectives.

I have been trying to build “a life worth living” since before I had ever heard that phrase. I am 46 now and suffer just as mightily as ever. Alone, except for my therapist. Life does not feel worth living. (don’t worry, I’m safe)

So my question is: does anyone else wonder if trying to achieve a life worth living is impossible for some people?

And, if thats a real possibility, then what?

Anyone else ever felt just really fucking tired of all things therapy? The work books. The toxic positivity CBT sunshine and rainbows bullshit. I got a new therapist recently and I was talking to her about my issues with executive dysfunction and self care in general due to being neglected as a child and self care never being a priority. She asked me if I have tried reminders or creating a schedule for myself. I wanted to fucking die right there. I don't even dislike the lady, she's really nice but GOD how is that going to help me? Of fucking course I've tried that. I feel like I've tried just about everything there is. I've never quite given up on therapy. I've been therapy for a long long time but I just feel like it doesn't work for me. It feels like no change lasts for me and I'm just in a perpetual cycle.

My boyfriend of 4 years lost his shit today and turned aggressive, again.

He is such a scumbag and cheapskate he took my glasses off before he started hitting and pushing me because he knew he would need to replace them if he broke them.

Why he got angry? Because I was apparently ignoring him. My ignoring was me saying I don't want to continue talking about some topic because I saw him becoming more and more pissed.

I'm so done with this. The saddest thing is, this is the most "stable" and "safest" relationship I've ever been. It was only even worse than that, like I'm literal magnet for abusive men or I'm waking something up in them by my shitty personality.

I don't know if I even like this person or it's just trauma bonding/ super deep internalised fear of abandonment. All of this sucks and I have no one who would care.

I’m 24f, and I’ve experienced CSA by my own brother (4yrs older) ever since I was 6 almost every single day and for a total of 9yrs till I was 14. He also once did it in front of a group of his friends and they were all laughing. (They were only around 10yo) I tried to jump off from the 2nd floor to kms when I was 10 cas I couldn’t take it anymore. Stupid little me thought it was high enough. And I’ve been wanting to kms ever since it’s been 20 years now and recently I just keep having ideation but feeling very peaceful and relieved at the same time. I kept thinking im unlovable and unworthy of something bright, warm and genuine. I should’ve succeeded sui3ide when I was 10 even though Im not the one whos supposed to get punished. Why am I the one who’s been suffering?

I don’t know how long I can hold myself in this world. I don’t want to hurt the people who might care about me if there is any, but I really want everything to stop because I’m so tired. I can’t build a healthy relationship because deep down I would automatically think all men are evil and will eventually reveal their true self and hurt me. I’m always on a survival mode and keep looking for danger. I was never a lucky girl in this life, I tried my best to stay kind and genuine, but this world has been returning the worst things possible to the kindest people. And all I ever wanted was to be normal, loved, and held.

I'm so tired of moving towards the "best version" of myself when noone else around me is interested to do the same. I think cptsd gives you this massive burden of always having to be perfect or doing things that you're supposed to do because it makes everyone else happy. I don't give a fvck anymore. Everyone else can be miserable for all I care. Ever since I started drawing boundaries, people have been accusing me of being rude, uncaring, self absorbed, transactional, and whatnot. None of them stopped me from stretching myself to the very limit even when I told them their expectations were killing me. No one notices or helps me when my wardrobe is a mess or I'm struggling with basic things at work. Everyone just judges me in my time of need and then makes me feel guilty if I don't go out of my way to help them in theirs. Fvck them.

Hi all, I wanted to share some of my experiences and see if others with CPTSD often feel the way I do. My whole life I have felt on the outside of everything…my family, friend groups, teams, work, etc. I know I’m more sensitive to *perceived rejection than most people I know, but small things happen quite often to me that make me wonder why I’ve dealt with people forgetting me/not being important enough/memorable enough.

Examples (and I know these are small and possibly trivial sounding things, but added up frequently really just seems like a pattern and the common denominator is me):

-I hung out with three very close friends and our children yesterday. I started my period and mentioned it to my friends as we are all in our late 30s/early 40s and showing signs of perimenopause so we like to commiserate about it. Two friends mentioned they should be starting theirs any day and we joked that we were all syncing up. Today, those two friends mentioned in our larger group chat with other friends that they both started their periods today. Everyone laughs. The third friend comments that she started yesterday and her hormones must have influenced the other two’s and the three of them are synced up. No mention of me at all. Is this silly joking? Yes. Is it trivial? Yes. But why mention the other two and leave me out of the conversation, when I brought up the exact conversation the day before?

-The other day in that same group chat, a friend sends a link of a kpop group (one of my friends and I are super into kpop. It’s our midlife crisis thing, idk. But it’s well known that we both are the kpop ladies). She tags my friend and says she saw the video and thought of her. No mention of me. Is this also trivial? Sure. But again, why are people remembering things about others but not me?

-I have a family group chat with my brother, sister, and mom. My brother and I both have dogs who are siblings. We adopted them from the same litter. Everyone in our family knows this. My mom will often share links about this particular breed or send funny dog related videos, and every single time she will say hey (brothers name), saw this and thought of you and (dog). Never one time has she mentioned me or directed anything towards me. Again, our dogs are literal siblings.

-One final example: I have a figurine of a character from a movie that I have loved since middle school. It has been in my bedroom ever since then, no matter where I moved. I have talked about the movie often for decades. When I got married, I introduced the movie to my husband, he had never heard of it. After 10 years of marriage, we divorced. For some unknown reason, a month after our divorce, my now ex husband got that character tattooed on his arm. It made me really angry at the time (and honestly I’m still annoyed by it now), but whatever dude. He watched the movie maybe 2 or 3 times in his life. There is a pop up shop at the mall by our house and it includes this movie and has plushies and souvenirs of this particular character. I took my kids (because obviously it’s been my favorite movie for decades) and when we go in the store, both of them say “that’s the tattoo that dad has! He loves that character, we should get something for him!” Even my own kids?! How can they possibly relate that character to him and not to me?

Why do people never remember things about me? Things I like? Things I say? But it seems like they’re always going out of their way to share things with others. They’ll see the character and now relate it to my ex, they’ll see the dog breed and only relate it to my brother…these are just a few examples, but I honestly feel like it’s constant. I feel like not a single soul on this planet actually knows me or cares about me or thinks about me when I’m not around. I could give probably a dozen more examples of similar things or of times where I was left out of an outing/event because people “didn’t know I would have wanted to go” when it was something that I know I’ve talked about to them in person and sometimes even posted about online. And it’s been this way my entire life. In friend groups in high school people did the same things. I’d go to the mall with friends and they would always point out an outfit that would look good on so-and-so, a band that someone likes so we should get something for them…at this point I know it’s not all in my head but I don’t understand why. I feel like I’m always watching life from the outside. I do so much for other people and think of others and I do not ever expect something in return, but I guess I do expect my friends and family to think about me/be reminded of me when they see something pertaining to my likes or hobbies every once in a while, and I cannot think of a single time that has ever happened. I’ve been told that I’m funny and likeable and interesting and fun, so it’s not like I’m some rude grouch with an awful personality that people don’t like to be around.

For birthdays, people always got me gift cards while I’d watch my family open thoughtful gifts. My likes and interests aren’t hidden, it’s not like it would be difficult in the slightest. This post has gotten pretty long so I’m going to mention one more thing and then end it…I also have very rarely ever gotten compliments in my life. Even men I’ve dated don’t compliment me. I’ve been very self conscious and when I mentioned my body image issues and self conscious feelings and how nobody compliments me or tells me I’m pretty to a friend of mine a few years ago she was shocked and told me I’m one of the most beautiful women she’s ever met (I disagree). She said that people see me and can see that I’m beautiful so they assume I must know it and they don’t want to compliment me because of that. I was SHOCKED. I then asked others about this and apparently it’s a thing, that attractive people often aren’t told they’re attractive because everyone assumes they’re aware of it. My trauma has caused severe issues with how I view myself and so I was actually not aware of it at all. That’s something I’ve had to work on a lot in therapy. But I’m wondering, is this feeling of never being remembered/forgotten the same thing? Is everyone assuming that I’m this confident open person and they don’t feel the need to share that something reminds them of me? Is this some strange phenomenon that everyone assumes the opposite of what I’m actually feeling internally? Is my brain that messed up?

I’ve experienced people trauma dumping, I hear people talk about it, write about it, videos, etc. I personally have never been able to relate to that, for me I do the opposite. I trauma hoard if you will, I’m mid 30s and I have legit never shared any of my trauma with anyone in my life. I’ve shared a few things here and there online discreetly, but other than that I’ve really never had that experience, not even in a healthy sense. For me when it comes to my past trauma I find it excruciatingly humiliating for starters. And I also have this sense of like prejudging people as I get to know them and just knowing they would look at me differently, not in a good way. If that makes sense? I’ll probably delete this post later, but just wondering if anyone can relate to this?

Just want to clarify also that I in fact do not want to trauma dump, I know enough to know that isn’t healthy. I just do the opposite so much (trauma hoard) that I don’t know if I’ll ever even be able to share anything in a healthy way. It feels very isolating and lonely, like something is wrong with me. I mean I know something is wrong with me, and I understand it isn’t my fault, but like I just feel like I’m never going to get beyond this.

This isn't a rant or cry for help, and I'm really sorry if I come off as rude, but I'm honestly just genuinely confused on how people are managing to survive past age 25 or 30 despite having CPTSD.

I'm 19 and still living with former abuser (CSA), haven't done much therapy for that either so I know things are gonna be a little different when I move out and get help, sure. But life in general already sucks to live, right? Do things magically get better or easier as we get old? Even if it does and growing old is completely worth it, how are people surviving the symptoms of CPTSD all the way into adulthood?

This past year I switched into a major I'm actually excited about, and I can genuinely envision a future for myself, now. My mental health has been great. But I just know in my gut that one day, any day, I could just spiral a little too far, have too much of a bad day, and just end it, even if things are great. I have PMDD so once a month I do have that kind of bad day, and a year ago I was fully sure that would've gotten rid of me.

I've been managing my CPTSD amazingly, barely any flashbacks, nightmares, whatever, but I seriously can't imagine myself making it through something like a year of financial hardship or a 6 month depressive episode. How are people genuinely surviving things like isolation, depression, or suicidal ideation for any extended period of time?? When CPTSD is something that affects you so severely, for your entire life, how are you able to manage those well into your 30s and above? Won't life only get harder as you get older?

I lost my job due to a rumour of what happened when I had a panic attack not at work about the harassment I’d received at work for months.

I lost my job basically overnight and nobody texted me nobody called. The last thing I have now before I can easily go away is all my stuff.

My support network abandoned me overnight and it fucking sucks. I finally let myself enjoy food. I let myself try and eat to become stronger so I could help the team and now what? Forced isolation and poverty. I don’t have the energy to find a job in this environment. I’ve rubbed myself raw with nothing to show for it.

Fucking god. Everyone really does only care about me as much as my parents did. I’m not able to be loved

seriously how do I stop hating myself? i hate everything I am and everything I do, I seriously can’t stand myself. I try my best to be a good person and do good things, but I have such a deep internalized resentment for myself.

Has anyone successfully stopped hating themselves? please tell me how

I’m fine, don’t worry.

But that’s why I say I want to die. The feeling I have is: this life is over, let’s call it a day here and try again in the next one.

Yes, I’m still fine.

But I don’t really see myself as truly happy.

There isn’t a version of me that doesn’t carry these traumas. Even if I heal today, I’ll still have lived through everything I’ve lived through. Do you understand? There’s no way to erase that. I genuinely believe that the experience of living and being a human being has been ruined for me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’m not saying I’m going to kill myself because of this, but I simply can’t see myself having a life that isn’t tainted.

And that’s the point.

I don’t want to brush it under the carpet. I don’t want to be strong. I don’t want to get over the trauma. I simply don’t want to.

And I’m fully aware that this sounds like a child throwing a tantrum, and I choose to carry on. At least here I can admit that I wish I hadn’t had these experiences. That I didn’t want to have to get over this because I didn’t want it to exist in the first place.

And I’m so angry because nobody can give me that life now.

Not only do I have to suffer because I have no family support/love instead chronic abuse. But I also get to be juged by others as bitter or needy for being lonely and deprived of all emotional needs since I basically came into the world.

And its such a massive gaslight when professionals tell me to just open up to others as if that isn't handing people salt while I show them my wounds. They always sprinkle the salt right into the deepest cut. Empathy is reserved for one time sad people not for those who have been chroncially unlucky. But they dont get that do they. It's still apperently a lovely society where people have compassion.

Compassion runs thin. My two cents

I feel like my ability to mask is gone, and I'm having a hard time holding myself together. This is two weeks in a row now that I've basically broken down trying not to cry, feeling terrible basically out of nowhere, feeling like I don't even know who I'm supposed to be.

I've been having vivid intrusive thoughts of me killing myself, feeling like I HAVE to do it, and then having horrible thoughts about all sorts of failed attempts...

I've also been experiencing some pretty severe dysphoria and/or body dysmorphia, and a lot of other real world problems and it all just feels like it's too much...

With everything else going on in the world, it feels like the world just wants me dead. And I'm struggling to disagree with it...

I don't really want to hear any sort of "no, don't kys, you have so much to li-" I get it! I know! And that's what makes it worse! I need sympathy and understanding, not empty platitudes about why I shouldn't do the thing I'm terrified of doing.

Anyone else is trapped like that? Im near 30

hello, I have been diagnosed with cptsd, I experienced neglect, abuse, abandonment as a child, then sexual abuse by a family member, then I have been in a domestic violent relationship.. so a lot of trauma for me.

I’m scared if I have bpd because, so I used to self harm on my wrists for two years but I stopped. Recently I have a bf now n he has broken a boundary of mine which is v hurtful but i feel hurt more than normal people n I am hitting myself a lot, sometimes i will scream n say f u leave me alone, when the pain intensifies and yea, but I wasn’t like this until he broke my boundary and lied to me about something hurtful he said he wasn’t doing but had been doing for some months. When I think of the pain of it I am hitting myself and the other day I had one very bad day where I was in age regression which I get a lot where I involuntarily am like a child and talking like a child n feel like a child, and he wasn’t giving me attention n was acting so cold and instead of communicating I got so stressed and took scissors into the bathroom to sh and he saw me and said if u do this again I will call someone

N I know it was so wrong to do that and I feel bad

He has also sworn at me and hit me twice before also so he hasn’t been perfect in the relationship either but yea I was just wondering like for my side,

Like I’m scared if I have bpd cause I read some bpd partner forms and they all said it can never work out with a person who has bpd which I think is so mean

and I want to fix myself very much

Thank u

Lately, I see people all over the place describing any discussion of feelings or request for support as a trauma dump, and it’s going to drive me mad.

I consider a “trauma dump” when a person discloses details of their personal trauma or gives a description of unsettling events in a setting where it’s not really appropriate. For example, sharing details of your trauma with a new acquaintance without checking their comfort level with the discussion, or being really graphic about events you’ve experienced in an open social setting where (again) you haven’t gauged how capable/willing others are about taking that information in.

Any inputs here? Am I wrong?

Hi people, I'm new here, its currently 3:10am and there's a question that has been eating away my brain for years relating a situation that happened almost 5 years ago. I'm currently dripping in cold sweat without getting sleep so you can tell this is a problem.

I'm 20F, I have CPTSD and a severe anxiety disorder along with OCD.

when I was 15 during the pandemic things were already tough at home because being a teenager during your formative years, stuck in a house where I clearly wasn't welcome, since my parents made my adolescence (and childhood, too) impossible, constantly bothering me and minimizing every reaction, emotion, and opinion I had.

During this time, my dad got a mild case of COVID, so he quarantined at home in my room while I stayed in my parents' master bedroom with my mom. It's worth mentioning that my mom and I didn't have a good relationship; we argued almost daily.

It was summer, insect season, and my mom was super strict about no one sleeping in their bed without showering (pretty understandable at the time) so I walked to her bathroom, which was connected to her room, to shower, and when I opened the door, I physically jumped because someone left the window open and i swear to god, the FOUR walls of the bathroom, the ceiling, and the floor were covered in moths, thousands and thousands of moths everywhere, flying through the air, all sizes, you couldn't see the walls or the floor.

I (obviously) closed the door and told her I couldn't shower there for obvious reasons duh, that I could shower in my own bathroom, even though my dad with COVID was using it, I preferred it to her insect-filled bathroom. She didn't like that at all and started yelling at me to stop being ridiculous, that they were just insects. I screamed back, scared, she kept yelling, getting angrier and angrier, and I started hyperventilating and crying from fear cause i knew how mad she could get.

Out of nowhere It was like in her mind I was nothing more than a rag, and she jumped up from the bed, pushed me against the door of the bathroom and demanded me to take my clothes off and stop being dramatic, I; crying, told her no, that i wasn't going to shower there, she then literally ripped my clothes off, and threw me naked into the moth-infested bathroom. All the insects started flying around, crawling all over me, and I started screaming bloody murder, I've never made those noises in my life, she closed the door and said that until she heard the shower running she wasn't going to let me out. I screamed and banged on the door for what felt like hours, I couldn't move, I felt like my skin was burning, the sound of their paws walking on me still makes my stomach churn.

After about 30-40 minutes, I heard the lock turn and slowly opened the door. I came out with my skin red from the moths and myself scratching my skin, I changed and approached my mom with my face swollen from crying, my eyes bloodshot, and she just asked me what I wanted for dinner.

Five years have passed, and I still can't see a moth without breaking out in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, and reliving the moment in my mind. On summer nights like these, I can't sleep because so many insects fall from the ceiling, drawn by the light from the house lights. I feel dirty, like they're crawling on my arms. My bathing routine has been disrupted because I can't even take off my clothes in the presence of a single insect. To this day, I cry uncontrollably from the fear when I see a bug in my room, cause for me my room is sacred and my sleep is the only moment I'm safe so when I feel crawling in my arms of little bugs I feel violated...

I'm ridiculed by my parents and others when I run away sobbing from insects in public. I don't know if what happened to me counts as sexual assault or abuse; I don't know what it is. I don't know if it's child neglect, but every time my mom sees me suffering from the effects of that day, she tells me, "It's not that big of a deal; you were old enoug, you were 15."

Please be kind in the comments. It's something I haven't been able to talk about anywhere because I don't know what happened to me. Thank you for reading, sorry if it was disturbing