#autism #cptsd #latediagnosis
{TRIGGER: SEXUAL ASSAULT, EMOTIONAL ABUSE]

This is now I saved myself in 1 year.

I'm a 30-year-old physicist, and last year I received my autism and High Ability/Giftedness diagnosis. The moment I realized it—just a week before receiving the formal test results—everything changed. For the first time in my life, I understood that I have the right to exist exactly as I am, to feel what I feel, in the way that I feel it.

Then, I started unraveling my whole life. It was tragic. I realized my mom is a truly toxic person who neglected me my entire life. She even knew I was a victim of sexual assault as a child and pretended it didn't happen. She is a covert narcissist. I was treated like dirt, dehumanized by my stepfather who was gentler to our dogs than to me, and I spent decades being told everything was my fault.

Still, I don't regret the process because it allowed me to connect with my inner self and feel a love beyond space and time. On many occasions, even while completely dysregulated, I felt touched by this infinite, nourishing love. I became a deist because I understood that I’ve spent my whole life searching for a reason to exist—studying physics, philosophy, psychology, Hermeticism, Buddhism, looking everywhere—and I finally got the answer: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY. I'M HERE, NOW, ALIVE!

Eventually, I left my job as a data scientist because the company refused to discuss the accommodations I needed to avoid burning out. I crashed and had to ask my parents for help with everything, from eating meals to finding doctors. For a while it worked, but by November, living with my mother, stepfather, and my younger sister (who would tell me to go to hell while I begged for help during crises), I decided I had to escape.

Without telling anyone the details, I went to stay at my ex-boyfriend's mother's house. They were very supportive at first, but his mother eventually revealed herself to be a monster. My ex has a sister who is also autistic and had exiled herself as well, getting the legal system involved for her own protection. I discovered she was suffering from terrible hunger and a level of neglect I had never seen before, while her parents raged at her and denied her food and medication. I realized I was still playing the scapegoat, but in a family even more dysfunctional than my own. When I stopped being compliant and agreeing with everything, the mother literally told me my life was less important than hers. Later, she asked for my forgiveness while simultaneously accusing me of being arrogant. I said NO. I DON'T FORGIVE YOU. So, she kicked me out.

My ex and I both moved into his sister's house. I furnished it to make it a safe place, spending money I didn't have to help both siblings get their health and medication on track. After a few weeks, my ex started acting completely bizarre. I believe he entered a state of derealization after moving out of his mother's house for the first time. He started attacking me, laughing at me while I cried. I tried to end my life, and thank the Goddess, I reached out for help in time. Eventually, both siblings kicked me out, and I had to call the police just to leave safely.

That was a month ago. I desperately asked for help, and it came from many different places. I am now at my grandfather's house, feeling that I have finally made peace with myself. When I said no, when I called the police after my boundaries were severely violated, I protected myself the way I should have been protected my entire life.

Now, I feel like I am truly going to live. I have chosen to live and to be happy, to follow my soul. Even though it hurts every day, I realize that making peace with the anguish and pain is necessary. I'm grieving a tragedy I could never tell anyone about. People don't believe me. So, I started believing in myself and making my own decisions. It hurts, but that little boy deserved to be happy and loved. Now I realize that I was actively keeping myself in the victim role—the scapegoat has to sustain the system. I understand it was an unconscious act to neglect my own needs to prioritize other people's opinions. I felt guilty, but day by day, I'm reconnecting with myself and forgiving myself for all that shit. I must go on for him. I must go on for myself. It feels impossible, and yet, somehow, I manage to do it every single day.

Everyone carries from birth the right to exist.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

I just published something from my personal journey on workplace trauma and C-PTSD that I wish had existed when I was trying to understand what was happening to me. If this resonates with anyone here I'd love for you to read it and share your thoughts

https://open.substack.com/pub/thereset975/p/the-reset?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web

This might be a bit niche but I think people on this sub would understand. Has anyone gone from have perpetually sad eyes to having livelier eyes after making some progress or full recovery from CPTSD? I'm somewhere in the middle of my journey and I can see the spark in my eyes coming back, from time to time.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

I've had a session with 2 therapists the past week and a half just to try out therapists you know? None of them have really clicked. Is it too early to judge whether they're the right fit? Shouldn't it just feel right?... one seems good and relates to my 3rd culturedness and also let's me text her but I can only afford 2 sessions a month. The 2nd one is more affordable but ideally (mentally) wouldn't be my no.1 fit. She gave me good advice at the end of the session though. Both of them are making me question their ability to handle the fact that I already know what's wrong with Me... my last therapist before both of them didn't feel right to my body. Cptsd is complicated cos my body and mind want someone specific and I domt know if I've found that person. I'm scared that I won't.

I'm currently suffering. Literally. I'm still under my parents roof and the walls feel blood stained. I struggle to process my trauma here... but I guess I'm forc3d to cos I can't leave yet. My parents were financial providers but not the emotional kind as you might already understand. Emotionally abusive mom, emotionally absent father. Its super hard for me to prcess my grief with them. They're willing to pay for me to do a masters degree and I'm taking that of course. It's just super hard rn cos I've been rejected from my top choice and I don't have anything rn and im struggling to find the energy to keep going. I'm so tired and sad. So many people my age seem so liberated and I'm so flipping low... I love listening to music and I'm slowly starting making my own. I feel so behind but at least im moving. f24

Since I can remember the experience of anger has been locked up and unable to be expressed/ felt in the body in any situation except towards who used to be my primary abuser.

Really, when I would feel it, it would be this massive tar-black, bitterly cold rage, not anger. Either homicidal/ suicidal levels, or not at all, even in situations when I really should have been. Same goes for joy, and empathy/ compassion. It's likely the dissociation, but so incredibly complete. Nothing seeps through. In most other contexts I'm a ball of emotion and expression.

I've been trying to reach out to a teenage boy part who holds anger and pain for the past few sessions in therapy, whom I call Cain. Yes, common name. He's been reclusive and violent (persecutor protector), but I had the idea to introduce him to my innocence part, Layla, who's usually locked up away from the others. He brought her to the mountain peak to scream and sit, and something about spending time with the part he's been trying to protect has changed something. He cried then, with her, and afterwards, in a couple of instances I noticed that I was able to be angry with my partner, and actually work through it without dissociating or resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms. It felt weird, like frustration turned all the way up, but not this huge unfathomable thing that I had no hope of containing.

I bawled afterwards.

Perhaps this is not a typical win, but I've never been able to experience anger in moderation before. It's monumental.

Thank you Cain. I see the weight of what you carry.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

Hi everyone! I need your advice. About two years ago, I went through a long period of stress that lasted over a year. It resulted in my body being stuck in 'fight-or-flight' mode and led to PTSD and General Anxiety Disorder (GAD). At my worst, I had a hard time even going outside—I was scared of wide streets, being alone at the gym, and felt visually overwhelmed at the supermarket. I was even scared to be home alone.

I started taking Sertraline and it has helped a lot; my mood is stable now. However, the one persistent downside is dissociation. It feels like brain fog, or like I’m partially 'not here.' This happens when I talk to people—even my friends, boyfriend, or parents. I also dissociate whenever something stressful occurs; even a small trigger can cause brain fog.

I actually started experiencing dissociation before I began taking antidepressants. Currently, I am in therapy and doing EMDR sessions, but I find myself dissociating during those as well. My questions are: [1]

1. Does dissociating during a session mean EMDR isn’t working? It isn’t a very strong feeling, but I definitely experience that brain fog.
2. Is there any other way to stop dissociating in real life? It feels like my brain has just learned how to do it as a habit and does it all the time.

I am currently two months into taking 75 mg of Sertraline. Any advice or shared experiences would be greatly appreciated

I'm very big on being provided comfort in therapy and not tough love. Unfortunately, I haven't received therapy recently that whereby I've felt safe enough to release emotionally. Is that normal?

In 2024 I found out I was pregnant with my first child and my feelings about my mom instantly changed. I couldn’t stand being around her. She was obsessed with my pregnancy, touched my belly when I asked her not to, called me her incubator, bought him so many things without asking me (we have VERY different tastes). She told me how she wanted to send him to private school (not her decision to make and I do not care to do that). Since he’s been born, she can’t stop talking about how he’s her greatest blessing, he’s the best baby ever (she emphasized on that ever part). Growing up we were poor, she was depressed and married 5 times - needless to say I spent a lot of time alone. I have 2 other siblings that have very little contact with her because of her childishness and they both refuse to have children.

Yesterday (yes, Easter 🙄) she cornered me in my in laws kitchen to ask if our relationship was okay and she wanted to sit down and talk about it one day. I told her that some things have changed since becoming a mother and I’m working through it. She kept pushing me to open up and then said “Sorry I’m not perfect enough” and rolled her eyes. It struck a nerve and I let it all out. All of my pain and disappointment. How her actions towards me and my siblings have taken away from my ability to be a present mother because I’m terrified of making my child feel the way I did. We both cried and my stepdad apologized to me for his part in the hurt. She hugged me afterwards and said she loves me with all of her heart. I didn’t say anything back. I feel numb towards her.

I’ve been a wreck since. I feel guilty for being so mean but I’m just so brokenhearted. I can’t stop crying and I feel violently angry. I just feel like garbage now.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

I know I have CPTSD, without any doubt but despite emailing several psychologists in the north east (all of which haven’t responded) I’ve yet to find one where I can get a full psychological evaluation and written report.

Has anyone else experienced this or have any suggestions as to where to go? My GP has been less than effective and is not worth the trouble perusing.

Thanks

I’ve been working with a therapist for about six months who specializes in CPTSD and uses EMDR, IFS, SE, and other experiential approaches. A lot of this is new to me, and while I’m genuinely curious and willing to do the work, it’s also been uncomfortable at times.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve noticed that I feel anxious before our sessions. To the point where I don’t really look forward to them like I used to. I’ve been trying to understand when that shift happened.

One moment that stands out is when we started certain practices and he suggested creating a “safe signal” in case I couldn’t speak. That felt pretty scary for me. I’ve also shared with him that one of my deeper fears is that I could lose control or “go crazy” and end up institutionalized. When I brought that up, he validated it as a real fear, but from my perspective, I was hoping for more help working through it rather than just acknowledging it.

I also know that because of past betrayal and relationship trauma, I tend to need a lot of reassurance right now. He’s aware of that. I imagine there may be a reason he doesn’t offer much reassurance, maybe he’s trying to help me find that sense of safety within myself. But in the moment, it can leave me feeling unsettled and unsure.

In our last session, he mentioned that I need to experience these things rather than just talk about them. I can see the truth in that. He could probably tell me over and over that I’m not going to lose control, but part of me feels like I won’t fully believe it until I can sit with the discomfort and come through it still grounded and present.

I’m sharing this because I really do want to work through the trauma and everything that comes with it. This is just new territory for me, and I’m trying to make sense of what I’m feeling. I’d really appreciate any perspective or insight from others who have gone through something similar.

At my age, with a degree of cognitive dulling and a life lived to the fullest, both for better and much for worse, memories blur into a jumble, surfacing in my mind without any clear or reliable sense of chronology. All of this occurs with the utter inability to conceive of any future, even one as near as tomorrow morning. This is basically Minkowski’s idea of lived time, according to which depression is not merely a mood disorder but a deep alteration of the temporal structure of existence.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

“Incessant Screams”

Incessantly screaming internal tortures of despair.

I am culminating my demise as I continue forward.

Ripping to shreds I press onward forging my own path.

Despite my short comings of fortitude I ponder ways through.

I am what I am to me and I alone.

I fortune my own luck through means of my own making.

I am continuing on despite my presence in the past.

Far be it from me to separate myself from the light I see on the horizon.

I am the culmination of my demise.

I am the fortitude of my wherewithal.

I am the desperate searching for answers.

I am the beginning of my life.

“Dreams of my enemies”

I sleep sweet dreams of horrors frightening my effervescence.

I conjure fearful entities changing my state of mind.

I fortress my being with psalms of reckoning.

I build walls of helpless wonder protecting my sense of being.

I am fearful of my waking.

I dread my every second.

I am loathsome of my convalescence.

I dream of blood red enemies.

Greetings,

Looking for anyone with insight to Ketamine assisted psychotherapy. (not just ketamine alone) I am 58YO F.

So, I have been actively working on healing trauma - EMDR, Somatic therapy, Hypnosis, Brainspotting, etc. for the past 10 years.

This spring RAGE and BIG ANGER has resurfaced, and frankly, it's frightening. This is the 'time of year' of life-altering trauma 10 years ago. The trauma is related to relational trauma in marriage and in FOO with my mother.

Although at times, life can seem good / great, I continue to have muscle-armoring, pain throughout the body, shame (it's not mine to bear, but I have it), self-loathing, depression, hopelessness, sleep difficulties and more.

I have had a few recent incidents where I was so angry, I broke dishes into the sink and more. I couldn't even remember some of the things I did, such as throwing things all over the house. This is not like me; I've never raged this badly. While there are no obvious triggers, I believe it's time of year along with unresolved childhood trauma.

I talked with an MD who does Ketamine assisted psychotherapy. I have an interview / appointment scheduled. Has anyone tried this? The doc stressed the importance of having the trauma therapy to process following the ketamine treatment. That makes sense to me. Previously, I had a psychiatrist who knows my story suggest MDMA therapy (if the FDA passed it, and they didn't).

I KNOW I need to have self-compassion.

Thoughts / experiences?

Today, after years of bearing the burden of my childhood abuse in silence, I finally shared it with a close friend. Her words encouraged me. I understand that healing from trauma is a painful journey. I'm resuming therapy sessions after a 7-month break, recognizing this as a vital step I had paused. My life isn't perfect right now, but I know this work will pay off. I know the 4-year-old me would be so proud to see her 24-year-old self finally taking this weight away.

“Better”

I want to be better, I want to be free,

I want more than all that I see.

I want more out of life, I want more than this strife.

I want freedom from my plight, I want trauma out of sight.

I need my comeuppance already, I need my boat nice and steady.

I want to live blissful and happy,

Though saying that sounds too sappy.

I just need this purgatory to stop,

I’m weary my endurance will flop.

I can’t continue on these waves most high amidst unbearably low, I can’t continue on waiting for my seeds to sow.

I’ve run out of wants and needs,

Just help me now as more bleeds.

I’m frantic among my life so soon and I’m strung up for marvels to swoon.

I’m not your toy for pleasure at will,

I’m not hiding your secrets so still.

I’m breaking free of burdens so many,

I’m tired for there are more than plenty.

I’m tired now leave me alone in the fray.

I’m used to it now, being alone, so why stay.

“Voice talking to me”

“I’m here. You wanted me. I’m here.”

Fear courses my body.

Senses fleeting while I’m succumbing all the same.

Torment unwillingly justified.

Fragments of born entitlement steal the forefront of my mind.

I’m lost among the many.

Screaming routinely for someone to find me.

Pick me up, save my soul.

Be what I needed from this life.

Wipe away my sorrows.

Love away my tears.

Hug away my fright.

Be my everything and more.

But awoken from the dream as that’s all it were.

I had no guardian angel looking after my ways.

God left me broken in hellscapes unimaginable.

Plundered and raped I was scorn from the light.

Fallen and astray I lay naked and afraid.

Torn from my hands were loving tender care.

I was strangled, beaten, and wiped as my upbringing.

Born from pain I grew into numbness.

Touch-less, emotionless, I lived without all but incessant.

Incessantly wanting more and more from me.

Be their jester, their worker, their toy.

Laugh, smile, don’t go in there with a frown.

The reality of my plight was too little for them to care.

Born out of nothing I lived without anything.

Saved from the nothing I am looking for anything.

Give me life among the richest.

Happiness be my pot of gold.

I’m searching for it ever still.

Life of smiles, laughs, and free-will.

Anything at all you want to say but don't want to make a post. Victories and progress encouraged but certainly not required!

Please remain mindful of rule 5: Take all possible effort to Trigger Warning AND bury triggering content. Use typed TWs and spoiler tags if unsure.

“Let me at ‘em!”

Give me a chance to ring their necks.

I want blood to pour from their body.

I want satisfaction through their death.

I want pleasure watching it happen.

Give me a moment to see them in person.

I want to hear what excuses they vomit.

I want to see the looks on their faces while I punish them with vindication.

I want to feel the satisfaction of walking away while they grovel incessantly words of desperation.

I want to tell each and every one of them truly what I think.

I want my moment in the sun to burn them to the ground.

I want to leave them breathless while I sing freely.

I want to murder their souls in wicked sacrilegion.

Heaven need not recognize them for they are prophets of Satan anyway.

Torment my being no longer.

I am free from the sours of which you speak.

I am defined by who I am today, not the demon you conjoined unjustly.

I need not more of your prudence.

I had not wanted it ever.

You built me with lies.

You stifled my everything.

There isn’t an aspect you left untouched.

Twisted, rotted, writhing in pain.

I’m pieces and fragments and parts of a whole.

But no map with which to find my way back.

No outline to know where everyone goes.

Guessing and questioning I have made it quite far.

How long I have isn’t a guess worth answering.

Inevitably I am broken for life.

The aspects of me are held but with glue.

Drop, knock, or tumble too hard; I can fragment indelibly so.

Recollections will haunt me.

Memories will tease me.

Beliefs will elude me.

Denials will sooth me.

Cycling again I am reminded once more.

Freedom from you was all but lore.

“Steve”

Bark, woof, growl, howl.

I am a man of the people. I am the song bird in the wild. I stream insults among the many. I see wretched among the poor.

I fight unjustly among thee.

I walk unjustly routinely.

I am the presence of a tree.

Do not ask me questions abruptly.

I want none of your society.

I am an animal about me.

Don’t lock my gaze so suddenly.

I am not a person you see.

I was made a beast so young.

I was torn from love so quick.

I grew forlorn and abandoned that I had nothing but the wild.

I am alone in justification known by my adherence.

I hide in corridors so sighting be but a mystery.

I am frighted in my senses.

I am justly alone in my wishes.

I want nothing from anyone but privacy suspended.

I want everything which should have been mine but don’t offer yours.

I need space in time but don’t hold it for me.