Thanks Muji.Don't know what I'd do witout you. Always good advice. Bless you.

Thinking of you again today, Strength, thinking of you...

I'm teetering on the edge of the Grand Canyon. A hundred foot drop.

Having PTSD is exhausting. You need to be on in order to keep yourself well. It takes a lot of brain power and that is exhausting. I get like you too. I am done, it is too hard, i am to frustrated, I am exhausted.
Take a break from trying so hard. Sleep and eat good food. Do something nice for you. Regroup, recharge the batteries and tackle ptsd again in a few weeks

Flashbacks keep rolling. I usually am pretty god at diverting them but these are out of my control. Vivid. Lots of blood and gore. I just can't take it. What I did.

Rolling flashbacks are really hard to take wave after wave, strength, this I know. Though you're in the chaos and pain of them right now, you're really good at writing these descriptions of them for us so we can identify and come up along side you. Keep doing that, ok?

Most of the things that happened to me were ritualistic and even I find them difficult to believe. People doubt me and avoid me so I've learned to keep it in. My mother sold me for drugs, narcotics, alcohol. I did not have a bed in my own home. When I was there I was not allowed to eat with the rest of the family nor did I go on vacation, movies with them. I was left in the hands of my abuser. I had my own room at his house. Many years later I would find out that he is my biological father. Explains a lot.

Being believed is hard as a survivor, Strength. The inside of my home was an abuse nightmare, while my dad was a pastor and a missionary. He walked around with a halo over his head like some angel outside of the home. It wasn't until his lies caught up with him 30 years after I grew up and left home that people finally believed me.

That's when the police, his own church board, and his bishop-level superiors all came together and busted him for the wrong things he'd been doing for a long time. It was too late to spare me any abuse by then. I figured better late than never as far as whether I was telling the truth or not. I was telling the truth all along for all of those 30 years.

What you found out all those many years later explains a lot, too. People don't believe us, but eventually facts are just facts, aren't they?