Twice, I was trapped -- the first time for 18 months; the second time for over three years. Because I'm medically disabled, twice, I was unable to move -- to flee from my traumas.

I'm trapped again, and for the same reasons. I'm spending all of my disposable income on doctors -- once again -- trying to gain my independence. This means I'm living with my mother, as I've mentioned.

And -- as I've mentioned -- my mother (bless her heart) maintains a close relationship with my eldest brother and his wife -- two of my former abusers. I have no control over that -- her relationship, and how she sees fit to maintain it.

There was the Hanukkah dinner that I mentioned -- a very bad night.

This morning -- having been awake until about 4am -- I awoke to a nightmare. I was a prisoner in a Vietnamese Prisoner of War camp. The sound of the Vietnamese language had me in mortal fear for my life.

I woke like a shot (as Arfie described it). The room ... the house ... were filled with the sound of my sister-in-law's screechy voice. My mother was talking to her, on speaker phone, in her bedroom across the hall.

I ran up the stairs, hid out on the balcony, in the cold and rain, and smoked a cigarette. When the call was finished -- unaware of why or how I'd awakened -- my mother said goodbye, as she left for work.

And -- like many of us, when we're triggered -- I was a wreck.

I'm pushing through with this Ketamine, prescribed for the neuropathic pain of my chemically-burned eyes. It causes hallucinations, and takes away the last of the capacities of my eyes to focus or to AVOID double-vision, so I see double. And the two images aren't stable. They move in all directions. Without any of the other stuff, this is a nightmare. A bad trip.

I have had to rent a car for the entirety of my stay, to be sure I could make it to the numerous doctor, psychiatrist, and psychologist appointments. It costs $650 a month. My eye doctors are an hour south. My pain and palliative care doctors are each about an hour Northeast. There's nowhere I could move, rent a room, and have access to ALL my docs without a rental car, and I can't afford both.

MY car sits at my brother's house, a thousand miles away. It appears to be having an intermittent electrical problem. I can't go get it. I can't drive it 1,000 miles. I could probably have it trucked here for only about two months' rental car expense, but ... it "burdens" me with having the car when I have no idea where I'll be, if and when I win ... and get my mobility back.

It's also winter, and I'd be driving in bad weather, at least part of the time.

I have been AWFUL at responding to the responses TO my posts -- I'm not entirely sure why -- but ... I promise ... I read and value them all.

But this post was just my way of saying ... to those DS people who are or feel trapped -- living at home, living with their abusers, unable to afford the necessities -- that I'm with you, I understand your plight, and I feel horribly for you.

It's the being/feeling trapped thing that led to my traumas being repeated, over and over and over -- that put me in the COMPLEX PTSD class, instead of "just" the PTSD class.

That analogy resonates with me: PTSD is like breaking a major bone. C-PTSD is like breaking that same major bone ... over and over again.

And -- as we all know -- it really isn't POST trauma ... until you're PAST the trauma. When we're re-traumatized/triggered ... it's like starting over again.

My psychologist is a DEAR woman. I love her as a person. But I think her things are 'attachment disorders' and substance abuse. While she wouldn't admit to it, I don't think she has much experience with PTSD. I don't feel like I'm making progress with her, and I don't really feel the need to be heard or validated. She's expensive and doesn't take Medicare.

But she's RIGHT down the road -- easy to get to. The alternative I'm looking at is within the Palliative Care Clinic -- an hour away. I could tie sessions with HER to my (monthly) anesthesiologist appointments, and they DO take Medicare, but ... that would either mean I'm seeing somebody monthly (instead of about 3x/month) or ... extra appointments, more driving, in bad traffic, with bad eyes.

Trapped.

Those of you who are trapped ... I can't help but think ... you HAVE to get out, if at all possible. The stability that we may gain by having a roof over our heads, possibly at somebody else's expense, IS valuable.

But it's hard to think it's more valuable than the constant assaults on our sanity that many of us are facing, if that living arrangement puts us in harm's way ... with regard to our abusers/triggers.

No. It's not easy. I can't figure out how to make it happen. But I'm not giving up on that goal. I don't want to hear that screechy voice again. I don't want to see that face again.

Like so many of us, I need to avoid the serious and dramatic triggers that are *relatively* easy to avoid.

I wish us all ... peace, health, strength, and a happy holiday season.

From ....

Me and Fleegle ;-)