There is a difference between Complex PTSD and PTSD. People with PTSD suffer a traumatic event. People with Complex PTSD suffer a traumatic life. I read this quote this evening which someone posted in a Dissociative Identity Disorder group:
“When you’re recovering from childhood trauma you’re not trying to get your life back. You’re trying to get your life for the first time. You’re trying to form your identity for the first time. The chance to do this as kids was stolen from us and doing it now as adults is so hard.”
Someone posted a comment which really resonated with me:
“I have come to terms with not having a life. Very complex trauma and lots of it. I had worked hard for many years to move forward, I utterly failed.
I no longer have any interest in life or relationships.
I just don’t care anymore.”
I too no longer have any interest in life. I gave up on relationships too when I was a teen, but then people like Jorden, my case worker, brought me happiness. I should have stayed apathetic and independent. This was the worst slip my mind made: to care.
In a few days it will be my 30th birthday. While I was feeling hopeful that my 30s might be better and was starting to imagine a future for myself, yet another trauma has killed my hope and also my faith. I used to find meaning in things and believe in something higher but it’s like I’m becoming a nihilistic atheist. Or at least I want to believe death is final. I don’t want another life like this. I don’t see any good in my prolonged suffering. It is needless, just like ritualistic abuse, war, poverty, the list goes on. Anyway, I have made my birthday private on Facebook. I don’t want people wishing me a happy birthday because it is not a happy time. Some people never thought I’d make it to 30. I was anorexic, and have been suicidal all through my 20s. I still have a couple of days to go, but it looks like I have made it. But I don’t want to make it. I want to die. I am alive physically, but my spirit is dead. I’m just an empty vessel. I feel like I’m being kept alive on life support: eating, breathing, alive physically, but I am gone.
Well, that’s the end of my rant. I have a headache and I am about to go to bed. I keep praying that I’ll die peacefully in my sleep. People do die from heartbreak, and loneliness is as bad as smoking 15 cigarettes as day. It can shorten a person’s life by 15 years. So there is some good news. I have always suspected I will die young. My mental health, my isolation, my addiction to the computer and all the ways the world assaults me (5G, smart meters, chemtrails, pollution etc.) will be the end of me. I’m just not sure exactly when, and meanwhile I continue to suffer.