Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
Find support with others who have gone through a traumatic experience. Whether you have chronic or acute PTSD, we are here for you.
im having a hard time at work. I am in a good place with very respectful people but some of their personalities/word choices/tone I’ve voice when stressed are triggering. Basically, right now I’m sensitive. I can own that and I understand it but I do not want to explain it.
If I could though, I’d tell L I’m sensitive, can you please cut to the chase when I need to hear something? After the fact I always tell myself I should say “L, slow down please, I’m having trouble following you.” She’s not doing or saying anything wrong but she does talk fast and her tone of voice is heavily authoritative - she doesn’t really make a mountain out of a molehill but that’s what it feels like to me because of my issues.
I freeze when she talks. I made a mistake yesterday and needed correcting but I couldn’t hear her point. I had to focus so hard to wrap my mind around her message and she was not attacking me or telling me my job was at stake or threatening me. I had no words and I remember mumbling something but I couldn’t get my point across and I’m not even sure what came out.
Shes not the only person I’m like this with. H micromanages and sometimes that’s just annoying. Sometimes I’m stuck in some kind of daze and don’t know what to do next.
I could go on. I also don’t feel ready to explain some of the embarrassing feelings and concerns I have. I’m just having a hard time at work. And the thing is, no one would know because I’m someone who grew up hearing
grin and bear it
children should be seen and not heard
If you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all
and a slew of other things that convinced me I only needed to speak when it’s necessary or flattering and that I shouldn’t have feelings and crying is awful and I have to look like I have everything together. I smile while I’m crying if someone else is around to see me cry. I can’t help it. It’s my natural response. I have tried to tame it and it seems untamable. I smile at my support group when it’s my turn to talk even when my heart is so heavy and the things I’m saying are hard to say. I always look fine.
Freaked out
insecure
neurotic and
emotionally unstable.
Fine.
Back to work for a short day then off to the lawyers office to sign everything that finally gets him served with divorce papers. This terrifying journey feels like it’s just begun even though I left three months ago after he threatened me with a knife. I should have left sooner. It began a long time ago but somehow today feels like the beginning and it’s very intimidating. So many what ifs...
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I did the dumbest thing today. I charged my earbuds, unplugged the block and put the block in my little bag instead of the earbuds. I wasn't happy about that when I got to the gym. What a dummy!
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Ever since I stopped doing therapy because of insurance, I've been feeling that old tense and irritable sense of anxiety and stress. I hate that. I was making so many strides and changes during therapy, my therapist would acknowledge all of my progress and accomplishments, and I miss that reassurance. Today I thought about it, and I made those changes! She would always tell me that I chose to...
I ply exposure therapy techniques to people/places/things which trigger me. My first success with this was a co-worker who spoke atheist/political dogma as if he had read all the same books and articles as my baby-raping father. Trigger city! ! ! I indulged in many a fantasy of tying him to a torture rack while I listened to him spout his goading profundities.
With the help of my therapy support network, I started doing therapy exercises, complete with accountabilibuddies and therapy support, before and after our encounters. By the end of the job, the jackass and I were good friends. We didn't have enough in common to keep up with each other after we no longer had work to bring us together, but I am confident he remembers me as warmly as I remember him. I actually miss him. As our relationship progressed, he even enjoyed hearing the torture-rack fantasies and added a few new devices to my imaginary torture rack. For sure, he weren't no baby-raper. It was a very healing distinction for me to learn in separating the trigger from the trauma.
Steadying support while you find what works for you, Marah. It's a toughie.