Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group

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Ptsd: can we be happy?

mindfulguy
mindfulguy


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Being abused in childhood, impacted my mind permanently. I am not saying this abuse rules my mind but it will at least lay dormant until I die.


 


Happiness was impossible, imminent danger lived inside my home and I was his only target.


 


Survival and shame dominated my thoughts, helped formulate my unworthy self image and destroyed my nervous system.


 


I always knew something was wrong, like I was flawed, unworthy, not like other people.


 


Then one day in my 50’s a family crisis ignited my childhood trauma. It was alive, bringing that terrifying jolt to my solar plexus, cortisol and adrenaline, PTSD’s scare drugs.


 


Took me 6 years to heal or improve, for the suffering to curtail and life to have a little lightness, some contentment.


 


When I improved or healed, the suffering dissipated, the intrusive thoughts lost power without attention.


 


For 60 years I enjoyed momentary joy from accomplishments, however happiness was a stranger.


 


To heal or improve, I had dedicated five hours a day to meditating and healing.


 


On this journey, while entering into mundane tasks, (a mindful practice) I found happy moments.


 


Moments free of any deadline or time apparatus, where thought had curtailed, where things unfolded naturally.


 


These moments calmed my being beyond any prior feeling.


 


Looking at nature one day, I saw perfection, was it out of body or was I just one with it?


 


I believe if I can find some happiness, then you can also.


 


It is not easy, it takes courage and daily action.


 


Thoughts?



https://ptsdawayout.com/2020/07/22/ptsd-can-we-be-ever-be-happy/





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Community Leadermujicaptsd
mujicaptsd
Whether or not it's literally true, mindfulguy, in the course of my PTSD recovery I've come to tell myself to give this thought a whirl now and then: "it's never too late to have a happy childhood." It's because I grew up from age 9-15 in a civil war in South America as a missionary kid, so I belong to an entire generation of war children from down there who had a hard time being kids and having fun.

I've made a point of going out and doing things that are fun as much as possible. I'm a big stand up comedy fan, and have given myself the chance to see a lot of the big names live. Same with music, I've been to as many rock concerts and I could go to, seeing lots of those big names live, too.

It doesn't deny the fact that I'm a war child and childhood was tough for my generation. That's validated every time I go back down to visit South America where I grew up. Still, in the present I can have fun anyway, and I do.
mindfulguy
mindfulguy
I am impressed

I function in life but trust is very difficult for me

My dad isolated me from distraction so he could shape a pro baseball player

I grew up with few attachments so traveling to strange places does not hold the same pleasure as you


I can appreciate your successes and be happy inside my limitations
Secouya
Secouya
There’s a phrase I really like. ‘Recovery does not mean the trauma never happened, it just means you have control over your life.” This is what I am working towards but have a ways to go. Like you trust is a huge issue for me, but not so surprising after the abuse, attacks and witnessing crime scenes and realizing what people are capable of. My therapist says not everyone is bad, but if you don’t know them how do you tell bad from good.

Small things make me happy, the sun, my dogs, flowers, nature, memories of happy moments in my life, teaching.
Community Leadermujicaptsd
mujicaptsd
We might have something in common in our dads, in some way, mindfulguy, I don't know. While growing up, mine tried to make me into an American football player by drilling me as a little kid with bullet passes playing catch in our back yard in South America. I didn't go to an American school down there, so in high school going out for football from what my dad taught me wasn't an option. The English speaking school for me in South America was a British one, so they had rugby.

Weird as it was to learn how to play rugby, from my dad's desire to see me play American football I went out for what was available, the rugby team. Since I was a latecomer to the game because we'd only moved there when I was in my second year of high school, I only made second string. But I made the team, and I got put into a couple of games.

Sadly, my father never went to see me play rugby. For him it was American football or nothing. He wasn't interested in rugby, not even if it involved me.

I'm not sorry I played rugby in high school; I made some lasting friendships with guys on that team. That's how I relate, right or wrong, to what you say about being happy within limitations. My dad really did miss out, though, by not coming to any of my games. His loss. I enjoyed them.