A little of my story and book plug

This story won’t start at the beginning. Not in a way where this is what happened to me and now I have PTSD. It starts at my diagnosis. I was diagnosed with PTSD in 2015 after having a rock bottom experience. I was separated from my husband, I was killing every relationship I had, and my life was just chaos and out of control.

I decided the pain, the chaos and being out of control wasn’t how I wanted to live anymore. So I chose to go to intense therapy. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to be exact. I also went through self driven EMDR trying to get the pathways in my brain to rewire around the trauma. 

After 2 years telling a therapist my story and many repressed memories being remembered, I felt like I would never be okay again. It was just too much. I remember asking what caused the therapy and he looked at me and said “take your pick, Amy.”  I knew then that this was going to be a long road. There have been times I let it get the best of me and allowed the storm of PTSD to overtake me. Even superheroes get tired sometimes. 

That was the day my diagnosis went from PTSD to Complex-PTSD. C-PTSD is related to prolonged trauma and abuse. The effects are low self worth, reckless behavior, overactive startle response, fight or flight, flashbacks, easily overwhelmed, no filter, night terrors, hyper vigilance and avoidance of social situations. 

So where do I go from there? What is my next step? How do I heal? I wanted and still want nothing more than to be the fearless, spunky, independent Amy at 21. So I bought a book. It has changed my perspective and in turn my life. The name of the book is Deal With It: Living Well With PTSD by Dr John A King. It is the book pictured above with me on my lunch break. It was a hard read at first. I was triggered because his description of the fallout of being sexually assaulted resonated to close to home. Once I sucked it up and decided I wasn’t a victim and I wanted to apply what I learned I read this book at every opportunity. It was cathartic, validating, raw, and very real. 

For the first time in a long time I saw hope for healing. Hope for building a new me that wasn’t in a million jagged pieces. A me that doesn’t have to blame every man for the abuse I went through. I’m not there yet, but I’m working on it everyday. I’m starting at the baggage claim and dumping that mess there. I’m moving forward and making positive things happen. I’ve decided I’m not going to worry about people leaving me to the point I smother them. With or without them I am still me and I will be ok regardless. I’m walking in new strength. I’m forgiving myself for screwing up relationships, words, work, whatever when I was in the midst of the chaos. It’s a new day and I’m going to live it to the fullest. I won’t quit.