Before, I could not shower without locking the bathroom door. I was also prone to peeking around the curtain to make sure nobody was there. Now I shower with the door open. I have occasional twinges of anxiety but I don’t peek.
I would become very anxious, interpret everything that was said personally, and probably post a lot of TMI. Then I’d spend the rest of the night obsessing over my past, and go to bed early in the morning, freaked out and exhausted. In the morning I would regret what I posted and feel ashamed.
Now, I view these threads more or less as objectively as I would any other topic. If I sense myself becoming emotionally upset and wanting to post a bunch of personal stuff, I can now step back and just spend a few minutes sitting with the painful memories. Maybe I’ll cry for two or three minutes, and then I’ll move on with my day. The key is I’m not afraid of the memories, and I recognize sadness and other emotions as healthy and normal, without letting myself get emotionally swamped.
The biggest difference is that I don’t expect something horrible to happen at every moment of every day. There were a lot of symptoms I did not recognize as PTSD - for example, I had unusually high levels of anxiety while driving, I was afraid of darkened movie theaters, and every time I saw someone with their hands in their pockets, I expected them to pull a gun. I couldn’t sleep at night because every noise would convince me that someone was breaking in to stab me to death. I was especially sensitive to unfamiliar noises.
I recall one night my cat knocked a candle off a bathroom shelf. I bolted from bed, immediately locked the door and turned on the lights, and stood shaking in terror with a metal pipe gripped in my hands… My husband woke up when I turned on the lights, immediately deducted that we were safe and went back to bed. I probably stood there for 10 minutes without moving a muscle. It took me another 20 minutes to calm down enough to open the door. I was awake for hours afterward. I will never forgot how terrified I was that moment. It was like the final straw for me, because I said, ‘‘I can’t live like this any more,’’ and sought help.
I thought, since my trauma is not accident, theater or break-in related, these things were not PTSD, but my therapist helped me to understand that, particularly in cases of repeat trauma, this pervasive sense of danger is very common in people with PTSD.
As for things I couldn’t do before but now can do, I can sleep and I can have sex. Those are the big ones. I can also handle a lot more scary situations in movies/media better than I could before, so I have more variety in my entertainment now.
Two days ago I was sitting at my computer with my back to the door, and a gust of wind blew the door shut with a big WHAM! In the past I would have been a wreck. But I didn’t feel any anxiety at all. I just propped open the door and got on with life.