Because I know what it is to be lonely.
Lost and without access to answers to quiet the demons in my head.
Before I found my veteran US trained Head Doc who pushed me through EMDR and to wellness, they were demons. Now they are the ghosts that populate my life; I understand my triggers and I surround myself with friends who support, care and love me. Who give me the space I need whilst there to protect me from my inclination to be a recluse, isolated – it’s not that I want to be alone, I don’t, but anybody with complex PTSD will understand that we are programmed to move away from people.
One day I sat and thought about what I would have loved to have twenty years ago when I was searching for answers to my many physical reactions to smells, sounds, voices, sights, textures. In fact my inner world was one of constant feeling under attack – a never ending series of terrifying experiences. Whether because my Brocas (area of brain responsible for communication) was bust or whether it was a survival tool, I kept my silence, outwardly calm and smiling. Inwardly screaming in an agony that would never ever end. Alone and isolated.
It did end. Just before it killed me – or perhaps more accurately after it failed to kill me. I did try to kill myself; there it is. Shotgun shot to the head, muzzle neatly hooked under my small perfectly formed chin, trigger too far to pull with my fingers so dextrous toes came to play. We are a danger only to ourselves and I have often known that those who were supposed to love me wanted nothing more than for it to succeed.
Despite their best efforts
She was loved
The answer was obvious. I’d have wished for friends who understood me. I’d have wished to know that I was not alone in feeling the way I did. I’d have given anything to feel ‘normal’ – to feel that no matter how remote, there was somebody out there who’d give me a hug and say it’s okay lass I see who you are and you aren’t nuts/crazy/psycho (these aren’t just words I have thought about myself they are the words that were used against me in one of my three failed relationships in 20 years – all because I faint when triggered, I am terrified of loud angry male voices and strong emotions overwhelm me; my reactions are those of the terrified child I was in a war zone that showed no mercy watching those I loved butchered, people are cruel to those of us who do not meet the ‘normal’ required by society).
So that’s why #PTSDChat.
I want to give others what I never had. A conduit to information on PTSD. Support for their own torturous route in life; a path to happy and fulfilled. A place they can come to, to be accepted, cared for and told that they’re doing good, that no matter how dark the badlands of PTSD get they will get through and whilst they walk through them here’s a hand to hold and I will walk by your side until you no longer need me.
I want to give you wings. I want to let you be free of the demons. Make them ghosts that like old friends we can sit and chat to a while, leave behind the pain and instead replace it with an acceptance of where we are and know that we will be, today and for all our tomorrows, truly genuinely Just Fine*.
*(“I’m Fine” – it’s what we say instead of “Fuck off and leave me alone”)