What people with PTSD wish others understood

[DownInKokomo]

Someone posted this on the subreddit /r/PTSD and it really hit home for me so I wanted to share with all of you, I had a pretty bad trigger last night and starting the next day reading this helped me alot
https://themighty.com/2015/06/what-peop ... nderstood/

[Brooke]

I'm sorry you had a bad trigger last night... I think PTSD is a spectrum and I agree that it doesn't just occur to people who were raped or survived wars. Right now, I'm suffering PTSD from relatively minor issues in my marriage. I think people with low grade PTSD are ashamed of saying they have PTSD from something because it's not as severe as the typical stories they hear. I certainly am shy about mentioning it because I'm scared people would judge me and think, "That's it?" But, I think we need to be understanding of ourselves and accept all of our feelings no matter what. Thanks for sharing the link.

[DownInKokomo]

Brooke, the one thing my therapist has always told me is, "trauma is trauma is trauma." There are so many things I have pushed down and suppressed because, "why should this bother me? This is so small.. people have it way worse." Well someone will always have it worse, and the fact is is that thing is causing you pain and we all deserve to be taken seriously and to deal with our issues. I know how you feel though, there are still flashbacks and triggers I get that I feel are so pointless but they forced themselves there for a reason, yknow?

[QueerNymph]

I have PTSD with dissociative symptoms, it feels like being in a glass prison. I look outward and see dangers and impossibly high walls that I have to climb to achieve a modicum of what appears to come so easily to others. I burn with a desire for normalcy, for the trappings of a normal life. I would give anything for close friends, but my body physically prevents me from allowing anyone in. I can’t talk about my feelings, because to do so would expose my soft spots to the cruelty of others. So how will I meet people? When I arrive at work or campus, I’m consumed by appearances. What will they think if they know “x?” I CANNOT allow them to see “y.” I remind myself that no one is that concerned with me, which buys me five seconds of reprieve, but the intrusive thoughts overwhelm me and I’m right back at it again. It feels like my mind houses the planet’s biggest, most ruthless and efficient critics. I’ve adopted my abuser’s method of gas-lighting; the internal perseveration leaves me paralyzed. I feel so much better just having put it to words.