My Childhood PTSD daily struggles.
Posted: March 27th, 2018, 3:50 pm
As a child my mother was a drug addic and for majority of my early childhood she and I lived in a mobile home with her boyfriend. Most of the time they were so fucked up on drugs that they forgot about me. I’d sit there in my own filth for days and still have a scar on my arm from when I was four and tried to make myself Mac and cheese because I hadn’t eaten and was so hungry. I was unsuccessful in cooking and the only thing I got out of it was my mother laying on top of me choking me after seeing the mess I made. My friends and family now refer to me as a “feral cat” when it comes to me sharing my food because I’m so food aggressive and don’t like letting people eat my food.. Majority of them don’t know that it’s because I’m always afraid I won’t have food or won’t have enough food.
Another issue comes from when I was eight years old and my house was raided by police. My mom had been stealing identities and laundering money. At the time I used to fall asleep on my couch because I needed TV to fall asleep and my grandpa would just pick me up when I fell asleep and put me in my bed. My mom had broken up with her old boyfriend and was now on to a new who had introduced her to this lifestyle. Around 4 in the morning mid November of 2008, the front door was smashed down and the swat team ran in with their guns drawn, I was curled up in a ball and hiding under a blanket so they didn’t know that I was a child. They threw my tiny body on to the ground and had a full rifle pointed in my face. It took them only seconds to realize that I was a child and immediately picked me up. To this day anytime I see a police officer I have a panic attack, sometimes it’s so bad that when I see a cop while driving I have to pull over because I will start hyperventilating and crying. I’ve never been able to seek counseling because I don’t have insurance and simply can’t afford it. I’m now 18 and sometimes still wake up at four in the morning in a cold sweat and tears because of that incident. The swat team members gave me a stuffed duck, I still have it somewhere and often think of how the fuck they thought a stuffed duck would help me at all.
Another issue comes from when I was eight years old and my house was raided by police. My mom had been stealing identities and laundering money. At the time I used to fall asleep on my couch because I needed TV to fall asleep and my grandpa would just pick me up when I fell asleep and put me in my bed. My mom had broken up with her old boyfriend and was now on to a new who had introduced her to this lifestyle. Around 4 in the morning mid November of 2008, the front door was smashed down and the swat team ran in with their guns drawn, I was curled up in a ball and hiding under a blanket so they didn’t know that I was a child. They threw my tiny body on to the ground and had a full rifle pointed in my face. It took them only seconds to realize that I was a child and immediately picked me up. To this day anytime I see a police officer I have a panic attack, sometimes it’s so bad that when I see a cop while driving I have to pull over because I will start hyperventilating and crying. I’ve never been able to seek counseling because I don’t have insurance and simply can’t afford it. I’m now 18 and sometimes still wake up at four in the morning in a cold sweat and tears because of that incident. The swat team members gave me a stuffed duck, I still have it somewhere and often think of how the fuck they thought a stuffed duck would help me at all.