5/19/2023

I heard of C-PTSD before. I never looked into it or thought too deeply about it. In retrospect, maybe this is telling in itself. I read about it in articles about people held hostage for decades of their lives. People raped and beaten constantly in the span of years or survived war zones. I knew I had some things I struggled with. Things from my past that made it hard to fall asleep and all too easy to wake before dawn. I had struggled remembering a lot of my childhood and it has always been painful to trust others. I’ve understood some of these concepts, but I always kept them at a distance. After all, I could work. No matter what was going on in my life, I have always been able to work. And even when I didn’t want to, I knew it would help me feel better. Rather it would be a good distraction from the noise in my head. I was successful in that way. I could complete any task at a proficient level if I set my mind to it. I could survive. That just didn’t line up with anything I believed about trauma.

The first time the distance closed was in 2020. I wanted relief from the fear that rushed through my veins when driving a car. The accident almost left me paralyzed and even till present day, I experience pain daily. The fear was ridiculous. It was an inconvenience. I needed to drive so I wanted to address it. I was prepared to explore the emotions and thoughts that came with this fear. I, however, was met face-to-face with the reality of my life, my story. No one had ever used the term C-PTSD when talking about me. She sat across for me and uttered the words so effortlessly I thought she may have been mistaken. She continued to talk but focusing on the emotional pain from the car accident. So, I let myself forget. Depression? Sure, I have that. Anxiety? Oh yeah, I’m always on edge. Panic attacks? I remember being 5 when I had my first one. But C-PTSD? How could I be categorized with populations who experienced war and were stolen from their families to live decades of their lives in a basement? I didn’t pity these individuals. In fact, I always felt angry for them. For the injustice they experienced and the suffering they endured. I admired their strength. I feel it’s an insult to put me in a category with them.