I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

[ Continued ]

Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

Hi guys ,
This is pretty awkward to me talking about anything related to therapy to anyone. I've been seeing my therapist for a month now , we had 4 sessions and 3 walks so far. What i wanna talk about is how i can open up to him and not feel so stiff around him and end up regretting not saying all i want or any of it at all. He says we have a good relationship but it’s different for me. I feel really disconnected. I have so much to tell him but it always ends with me not saying what i REALLY wanna say , especially when we have a walk. There’s that thing i do when i feel "bad" , i pretend that i'm telling him what i'm feeling so i calm down. Maybe it’s the reason i have nothing left to say ?
The reason i'm trying to find a way to be more open is that i feel forced by myself. I’m regretting everytime i see him and end up not saying what i feel at all , and i don’t wanna drop therapy. I really really need it. I had a really unpleasant event by the time of our 3rd session and it made me realize how lucky i am to have a therapist at all. I wanna start fresh and on good terms with him. I wanna trust him enough to be comfortable around him to make our process better and not feel pushed. And he’s just a nice person idk what’s wrong with me
I want to want to get better and not feel so forced by myself.

Mood: Exhausted
Listening to: Blake Shelton - Sure be cool if you did


It is one of those nights where I cannot get my mind to shut up. I am so sleepy but alas it manages to escape me. Racing thoughts and the like, This is my first time online today and it is 4:45 am so I guess that would technically mean that I was not online at all yesterday. I have not been able to focus enough on one thing to read a book. That is very stressful as reading is an outlet for me, I have my youtube playlist playing on shuffle so I don't even have to make a decision about a song cause right now my mind won't let me even think on it enough. I thought coming on here and writing for a bit would make me feel better or at least give me something to do but even now it is difficult to focus enough not to stray the subject. I love music there is rarely a time in my life that music is not playing. I listen to just about every genre I can think of with the exception of polka. Lately when I try to go to sleep paranoia takes over, it seems like the moment I become "still" the $#%^ hits the fan so to speak. Paranoia,agitation, conversations in my head with more than one voice. WTF? I moved across the country and have yet to see a therapist or mental health professional for that matter. I have been off meds since roughly June. I sometimes feel like I am watching my life play in front of me like a movie without the option to react. I mean my body is reacting but I am not, what the hell is that about? The other night I went to bed around 3 am to try to sleep but the moment I stopped listening to music and reading articles online and settled down in my bed with the lights off it got ugly. First the paranoia set in, it was extreme. I felt like I was screaming inside my mind but no sounds escaped me. It seemed endless then a soft little crying voice was in my head like a thought but not my thought. Then the weirdest thing happened.... I got this mental image of a little girl crying holding a teddy bear curled up in a corner. I don't know how I knew but the little girls name is Sophia and she is 6. I have never seen this little girl before so how would I know her in my mind? Let me say this, My name is not Sophia and I have never personally met anyone by that name. After the image of the little girl left the "screaming" in my head started back up. I don't know.... I am lost and not sure what is going on. After that night I called and made an appointment with a dr in the new town I am in. I am nervous about going to a new dr, I do not trust easily and I don't know if I can open up to them.

My Fiance won't stop masturbating. We've been together for a year and a half. In that time, we've had sex at least twice a week, average. And he has been able to finish only a handful of times. I have begged him to stop. Tried to explain to him how awful I feel when I can't make him finish. Nothing works. Today, we had a big fight about it. Because he told me, yet again, he hasn't stopped. He tried to compare the fact that I cannot finish during sex to him not being able to. He makes me finish every time we attempt to have sex, it isn't vaginally but it still makes us both feel good. He was mad at me for not having the ability to finish while he is inside me. Something I can't help, something out of my control. He thinks that is the same despite the fact that this wouldn't even be an issue if he would just stop masturbating. Claims that if I can't, its okay that he doesn't even though it makes me feel awful knowing he is just going to do it later. We are getting married, planning our life together. What if we can't have children because we can't have sex? What if we end up resenting each other because of this? Am I wrong or crazy to think that something has to be done?