Ptsd Tw - Blog Posts

Everything hurts, i have chronic pain everywhere. I dont want to do anything. It huts, it hurts. Where is your humanity for me? Am i sub-human in your eyes? Dont you get it? IT HURTS. I cant eat, i cant sleep, i cant do anything without pain. Do i deserve it? Is that what you think?

I hate ptsd bro I was having such a good day 😭

In the middle of class too like come on 💀

Can’t catch a fucking break everrrrrrr

tw: mentions of flashbacks and panic attacks

the flashback and panic attack combo right after is like stubbing your toe on a lego brick and then immediately tripping and face planting into a pool full of legos.

29. ] sender wakes receiver in the throes of a nightmare, reassuring them, "it's okay, it's not real." @bruz3r

she  breathes  in  dust,  knees  coated  in  bloody  sand.  gunfire  cracks  the  sky  open  with  fury,  heart  slamming  against  her  ribs  like  it  was  trying  to  escape.  the  heat  was  suffocating;  smoke,  cordite,  and  burnt  flesh  filled  her  nostrils,  coated  her  tongue  until  she  gagged.  hands  everywhere  all  at  once,  fumbling  for  the  medpack,  pressing  down  on  the  shredded  mess  of  a  man’s  open  chest,  shouting  over  the  gunfire.  stay  with  me,  godamnit  —  desperate  plea  to  gods  that  never  listen.  her  voice  cracked  from  the  particles  of  caught  debris  and  screaming  for  too  long.

he  was  younger  than  he  should’ve  been.  barely  twenty.  his  mouth  moved  like  he  was  trying  to  say  something,  but  only  blood  bubbled  out,  fear  wide  in  the  glow  of  youthful  green  eyes.  there  wasn’t  enough  gauze  in  the  world  to  hold  him  together.  didn’t  matter.  she  kept  working.  kept  fighting.  because  if  she  stopped,  it  was  real.  there's a  distant  echo,  a  hollow  sound  overhead  but  she  didn’t  hear  it.  didn’t  hear  anything  except  the  ringing  in  her  ears,  the  desperate  rush  of  her  hands  trying  to  clamp  a  mortal  wound  closed.  trying  to  will  a  shattered  body  back  to  life.  her  hands  slipped  and  his  body  jolted  once  and  then  went  still.  —  no.  no  no  no  breathe  for  me,  breathe  kid,  common!  she  beat  on  his  chest,  hands  trembling,  blind  with  panic  as  the  shadow  of  death  mocks  her  from  the  corner  of  the  battlefield.

she  hears  it  again.

distant  sound  gaining  rhythm  between  ichor  and  carnage.  someone  grabbed  her  wrists,  firm  but  not  cruel.  honey  eyes  wild  and  far  from  the  present,  her  head  snaps  like  the  coil  of  a  venomous  snake.  gloria's  mouth  twists  into  a  broken  scream  from  the  depths  of  something  animalistic  inside  her  bones. 

it's  okay,  it's  not  real...it's  okay,  it's  not  real.  but  it  had  been.

she  pushed.  reared  back  and  slithered  from  the  most  gentle  grasp.  adrenaline  still  flooding  her  veins,  muscles  seized  up,  heart  hammering.  it  took  her  longer  than  she  wanted  to  realize  she  wasn’t  wearing  flak.  no  helmet.  no  rifle.  no  medkit.  just  sweat-soaked  skin  and  the  terrible  ache  of  coming  back  to  herself.  back  pressed  against  the  wall,  staring  at  the  doorframe  as  though  the  front  would  materialize  in  front  of  her.  ❛ did  i  hurt  you?  ❜  frantic,  feral  beat  of  war,  placing  a  whole  field  between  them  with  her  palms  up.  ❛ i  don't  want  to  hurt  you.  ❜

I’m having a very emotional day. My business communications class is triggering a lot of old memories from when I was working at two different companies. I know I did what I could with the knowledge and tools I had at that point in my life, but the memories still hurt.

Not knowing I was autistic and how that impacted everything in my life was a huge factor. Not being properly medicated for ADHD and feeling like I was the only person who didn’t have my shit together practically killed me. I still have PTSD from comments I saw and heard others say about me. About being gaslit by my manager. About being so overwhelmed that I am still dealing with burnout.

It doesn’t help that I’m not in therapy right now. My case worker is pushing to try to find me a therapist but the system is so overloaded and there just aren’t enough people to go along without burning out the therapists.

On top of all that, my assignment this week in my business communications class is to talk about my chosen field and how communication has changed. Except I don’t have a chosen field. I’m struggling to figure out what it is and if I can actually work. I’m in crisis every day about it. Being disabled but “not disabled enough” is taking its toll right now. I’m not okay. I’m hopeful things will get better but that’s where I am.

It's actually so comforting to have classmates with mental illnesses or issues. Like, yeah, I'm not alone in this shit!