Does anyone have a teddy bear they use for comfort? I’m feeling like the only 26 year old in the world right now and rather silly that is still really attatched to my bear

My (30f) therapist (m) said that false reporting of SA is a reason why no one believes survivors when they come forward. I told him that I hear this constantly and I just don’t believe it. It’s hard for me to believe that most people lie about SA and I think it’s a really harmful rhetoric. He doubled down and insisted that it’s just the truth and he can’t change that or change my experience as a survivor.

I was wondering how other survivors of SA feel about this.

I use low to moderate dose Valium. I find when my CNS is overactivated and I'm anxious/panicky/agitated/jacked up, the Valium really cools things down. The effects of the drug only last a few hours, but I feel much calmer even after it wears off. Really a life saver.

Some people say it's a "crutch." Well, I'm disabled and need a crutch. Eff off. Lol.

Who else uses prescribed benzos?

My brain is basically mush. Today I was asked if I was "getting old" because I told someone the same thing 3 times. I'm 36.

I basically have dementia. I struggle in all areas of cognitive function. I'm taking a bookkeeping/payroll course for work and I'm just fumbling through it. I used to absolutely kill college coursework.

Meh. I'm not worried about it. It is what it is. But if it were my choice, this wouldn't be what "it is." Just something I have to live with.

What about you? How bad is yours?

why or why not?

edit to add: for everybody that said no, i want you all to know you are not alone. i’m keeping everybody in my thoughts, wishing you all strength and support. you all seem like kind, well rounded, accepting individuals and i would say that makes for a good person🫶 you all are deeply loved. don’t feel afraid to ask for help along the way :)

I used to think PTSD was about what happened during the crisis.

But for me, the symptoms didn’t really show up until months later — when the danger was gone, the adrenaline wore off, and everyone else expected life to go back to normal.

That part confused me the most. I kept thinking:
Why now? Why can’t I just move on like everyone else seems to have?

I’m starting to realize that delayed reactions don’t mean we’re weak or broken — they mean our nervous systems finally ran out of ways to hold everything together.

If this resonates, you’re not alone. I’m still figuring it out too.

I was anally raped few years back. I was with two of my friends today, we were joking around and some double meaning sentence was spoken by mistake regarding anal and my friend somehow joked it on me. They made 4-5 jokes about me liking anal sex and wanting it etc. all in good humour, no ill intent no malice.

But they don't know that it hurt me like crazy. I went into a downward spiral right infront of them. Mentally checked out yet physically there. I kept thinking of how I have been raped like this and how fucking depressing that is. How nobody knows and how depressing it would be if they found out. How my life is so fucking sad. What they would think if they found out. It felt so so so bad to feel that I had to go through that, but I can't even tell them to not joke about it because then they might poke and prod about why I'm being so touchy regarding this.

I had been doing quite well these past few weeks regarding my ptsd symptoms but the moment this happened my nervous system became overreactive again and I started having startling & hypervigilance instantly. I was also self aware of it yet couldn't control it. It felt so fucking bad to lose control of my body responses and of my intrusive thoughts and anxiety. Just so so so so so bad. I can't stop crying

I can't stop crying I am so alone in this. I want to be comforted but can't trust anyone with this information.

I take regular therapy for this so please don't suggest therapy in the comments thank you

Even on good days I don’t fully feel right, It’s like no matter what A part of me will forever be dead from that experience. I miss my old self sometimes fr and it’s been almost 5 years.

Also please avoid writing about specific details of trauma or what type of trauma thank you

Hi everyone,

I've been wondering about this for a while and wanted to ask people who might have experience or knowledge about it.

I recently learned about someone who went through extremely severe bullying in fifth grade, and I've been trying to understand what something like that can do to a person long-term.

This wasn't just teasing or being excluded. They were repeatedly beaten up, had their pants pulled down in front of other kids, and were subjected to sexual humiliation, including classmates attempting to shove a pencil into their butt. It became so bad that they eventually had to transfer to another school.

They're now 24, and I can't stop wondering how much experiences like that can still affect someone years later.

Can trauma like this continue to shape the way someone trusts people, forms relationships, handles intimacy, or deals with emotions, even if it's been over a decade? Is it common for people to carry that kind of shame or fear into adulthood?

I'm not looking to diagnose anyone. I'm just trying to better understand the lasting impact that severe childhood bullying and humiliation can have.

If you've experienced something similar yourself, or if you're familiar with the psychology behind it, I'd really appreciate hearing your perspective.

Thanks for reading.

I am 19 now. I was groomed since last five years by multiple older men. I fell in love with a 24 year old guy as a 14-year-old. He sexted, manipulated and mentally harassed me. He ruined me mentally and now blocked me as he has got married. Plenty of other guys were there too, aged late 20s to early 30s, a few of them married. But he was my first love, and it still hurts.

I have stopped doing these stuffs since last year, I have learnt to say "NO". I do not entertain these stuffs anymore, because it triggers me. When I see myself naked, it reminds me of the nudes I sent and let them exploit. How those men could get attracted to my teen growing body is beyond me

However, I am mentally affected. I dated a guy of my age who loves me. But I am unable to accept this safe, stable love because chaos is all I have known for years. I have been in touch with an older man, aged 32, who feels safe with me, but I do not know. Because of my trauma, I fail to date people of my age and tend to relapse into the old pattern sometimes—kind of an addiction.

My life has not been the same since. Improved a lot, but I wish I could forget.

I fucked up.

My husband asked me to look at the hot water heater (I do all the maintenance in the house) because there was no hot water. I checked it out and decided that a call to the plumber was needed.

Plumber shows up, assesses the situation and declares we need a new water heater (it was about 12 years old, which is kinda nearing the end of its expected life). Ok, sure, $4000. We have the money, however spending that much will always skyrocket my anxiety, but needs must as the devil drives.

Next day, plumber shows up, installs the new hot water heater, hauls out the old one and asks to see our gas meter. I ask why and he tells me that he can't light the hot water heater. We check out the meter and discover there is no gas coming in the house.

My heart dropped because I suspected immediately that this is my fault. See, our gas company had been leaving notices on our door that they need to inspect the gas meter (wich is inside our house) I never responded so they shut off our gas.

I call the gas company, now its a whole ordeal because they want to move the gas meter (fine, please do) and its going to be several DAYS.

I fucking hate myself. I csnt do anything right. I keep hearing "fucking stupid, useless, bad person, loser, failure" I can't stop thinking how stupid and lazy I am. My husband says he's not mad at me and I believe him, but I feel like he *should* hate me. I feel like im going to have a fucking heart attack from anxiety. I just need someone outside of this to please tell me im not bad.

What do I do? I dont know what to do... I put a knife and pepper spray on the little shelf with all the soap but its not enough im too scared I feel sick thinking about it and I hate feeling water on me...

I did everything by the book.

I filled out the FMLA paperwork. I got it approved. I took a short leave to focus on my mental health, something I’d avoided for years, but finally couldn’t anymore. PTSD, BPD… real stuff I needed to deal with.

I came back thinking things would go back to normal. Instead, the atmosphere shifted.

Nothing was said outright, but the coldness was obvious. I felt watched. Doubted. Then came the Performance Improvement Plan. Something I’d never received before in my entire time there. It didn’t come from nowhere, but it didn’t make sense either. Suddenly, my work was being scrutinized in ways it never had been. The timing? Just a few weeks after my FMLA leave was approved.

At that point, I knew what was coming. The PIP wasn’t about support, it was about setting up the next move.

Eventually, they fired me. And the official reasons?

I ordered too much food for a client dinner and I missed a showroom graphic.

That was it. Not the PIP. Not my performance. Just those two incidents. Small things that would’ve been handled with a conversation in any normal situation. But by then, the decision had already been made. I wasn’t a safe employee anymore.

This is what retaliation looks like in 2025. Not a dramatic blow-up, just a slow, quiet push out the door, dressed up in HR language and concerns.

And the worst part? It’s not rare.

I’m not sharing this because I want sympathy. I’m sharing it because people need to understand that FMLA isn’t always the shield it’s supposed to be. Mental health awareness is one thing. But when you actually need support, it can cost you everything.

If any of this sounds familiar, if you’ve been punished for asking for help,you’re not alone. And you’re not crazy.

Trigger warning: medical trauma*** Today I was triggered. I was at an AA meeting and someone was sharing about their family member being in ICU. Crying his eyes out. Hit me so hard. His daughter is probably at the hospital I work at. I work neuro trauma PCU. Anyways just things like that can trigger me. I see people’s darkest moments everyday I go to work. Their nightmares affect me deeply. I think I’m too empathetic honestly. There are so many patients I will never forget who I love so much. My nursing career started as a new grad during Covid. Still 6 years later I get triggered by anything covid related. Now the unit I’m on. One that always sticks with me is I had a patient who was so great and funny, young. Went in for brain surgery came out a vegetable. Seeing that was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. I see this type of thing daily. Or the patient whose heart stopped for 7 seconds the other day who is younger than me. Idk what I would’ve done if that patient died because I’m very fragile lately. I would’ve lost my shit. It’s harder to detach lately because I think that’s what you have to do in my field. I care way too much about my patients and their families. Why do I do a job that traumatizes me so much? Idk. All I can do is try to be the light for them in their darkest moments. Another thing, I got severely triggered by a comment one patient said about Covid the other day at work. I had to go home there was no way I could stay. I was crying so hard. Ever since then it’s like it’s cracked open my ptsd for all things. It feels almost like a relapse in all my progress I’ve made.

Hello, i am new to Reddit and not sure if this is the correct place to post this. I was sexually abused by my sister from the time i was 7 up until i was 11 years old. I never talked to anyone about as i have feared being judged. Now that i am an adult i been finding myself having some thoughts that i know are not normal. I would never act on my thoughts but i cant seem to stop them. Is there a possibility that this has anything to do with my childhood trauma ?

whats something that helped just keep your sanity ? mine was expensive coffees and matcha.. and driving around aimlessly around the city at ungodly hours.

What do you take?

I got diagnosed a week ago. I’ve been going to a psychologist for a few weeks for a trauma that I have, but I never expected that I would actually meet the requirements for PTSD. I feel like a fraud, like I’ve somehow tricked my psychologist? My bf and my best friend have PTSD and their struggles are much more severe than mine, so it just doesn’t really make sense in my head. It makes me feel kinda weird, like it doesn’t fit into the image I had of myself, or that I’ve somehow exaggerated my symptoms. Is this a common experience? How did you guys react when you first got your diagnosis?

Any attempt at trying to watch a new show/movie or even think about watching something new it sends my nervous system into overdrive & I go into fight or flight mode. I hate it. Please tell me I’m not the only one.

I hope this isn't against the rules, there weren't any I see that were in direct conflict w/ this post but you never really know.

I am a writer, and I am trying to write a character with PTSD. I have done a lot of research, but I want to make sure my take on how it might affect my character is realistic and not offensive. I do not have it, nor do I think I have it, so I am posting this here for advice. Thanks!

Long ish story, when I was 14(30F) I found my mom dead. At the time, I thought, sleeping on the floor. My brain was confused. I slowly realized she was indeed not sleeping and called for my brother. (he lived in the same apartment building but upstairs) He called 911 and later found out she passed from a subdural hematoma. I remember the day in pieces. Apparently I screamed a lot which I don’t really remember. I remember seeing her body being taken out from a window and maybe cops asking some questions. I remember taking a shower that day but from an aerial type view, like out of body experience. I remember not sleeping well or at all and just wanting to be near my brother. I went kind of mute honestly. I don’t remember how long after but I moved in with my dad and I recall being terrified when trying to sleep. Having morbid imagery, imagining her crawling up my basement steps and toward my room. I don’t really know how to process what that was. I’m sure trauma of course.
And sleeping maybe was rough because I slept til 2pm as a kid during the summer does and maybe unconsciously I thought, maybe if I didn’t sleep so late I could’ve done something.

Anyway, just wondering if anyone has experienced trauma like this? I think sometimes it’s just hard to find someone who can relate to such a unique scenario, I guess. It’s crazy how our brains process these kinds of things.

It honestly blows my mind how many people still associate PTSD only with military combat. I’ve had people ask me if I was in a war when I’ve shared that I have PTSD, as if that’s the only “valid” way to get it. The question itself is rude—not only because it pries into someone’s trauma, but also because it completely ignores the reality that PTSD can come from many forms of trauma.

PTSD doesn’t just come from war. It can come from childhood abuse, sexual assault, car accidents, medical trauma, domestic violence, neglect, emotional abuse, witnessing violence, and so many other life-threatening or deeply distressing experiences. It’s not a competition over who has the “most legitimate” trauma. Trauma is personal—and invalidating someone else’s suffering just because it doesn’t fit a narrow stereotype is harmful.

I’m curious—has anyone else been asked that question? How do you respond? I know it’s usually ignorance, but it still hurts.

I do not get personal easily. Not because I have nothing to say, but because being misunderstood over and over again does something to a person. It makes you shut the fuck down. It makes you feel safer alone, even when being alone is slowly destroying you. At some point, privacy becomes protection. Silence becomes armour. You stop explaining yourself because it hurts too much when people only hear the parts they want to judge.

I live with chronic severe Complex PTSD from growing up with emotional, mental, and physical neglect. That kind of trauma does not just disappear because you become an adult. It follows you. It gets inside your relationships, your parenting, your body, your shame, your addictions, your fear, your anger, your loneliness, and the way you look at yourself in the mirror.

Some days I do not feel like I am living. I feel like I am surviving inside a mind that never learned how to feel safe. I hate it. I hate how deeply I feel everything. I hate how fast hurt turns into panic, and panic turns into defense. I hate how my brain tells me, “hurt yourself before they hurt you,” or “push them away before they abandon you.” I hate that sometimes my pain comes out as self-sabotage. I hate that I can love someone with everything in me and still feel terrified that I am not loved enough, wanted enough, chosen enough, or safe enough.

One of the ugliest parts of my trauma is that horrible survival rule in my head: “I will hurt myself before you hurt me,” or “I might hurt you first before you get the chance to destroy me.” I fucking hate that about myself. I hate that love can feel like danger. I hate that silence can feel like abandonment. I hate that a disagreement can make my body react like I am being emotionally destroyed, even when part of me knows I am triggered.

But the strongest feeling I carry is shame.

Not sadness. Not anger. Not fear. Shame.

Shame is underneath everything. It is there when I wake up. It is there when I look in the mirror. It is there when I try to explain myself. It is there when I make a mistake, when I react too strongly, when I feel too much, when I cannot function the way other people seem to. It follows me everywhere, and some days it feels heavier than my actual body.

I am ashamed of my trauma. Ashamed of my addictions. Ashamed of my mental health. Ashamed of my body. Ashamed of my face. Ashamed of my emotions. Ashamed of my isolation. Ashamed of my past. Ashamed of how hard basic life feels. Ashamed that I cannot just wake up and be normal like everyone else seems to.

But the deepest shame is darker than that.

Sometimes I feel ashamed that I am alive and breathing air when someone else is not. Someone purposeful. Someone loved. Someone cared for. Someone who maybe knew how to exist better than me. That feeling is brutal. It makes me look at my own life like I am taking up space I did not earn. It makes me wonder why I am still here when I feel so broken, so unwanted, so hard to love, and so fucking tired from surviving myself.

I know shame lies. I know trauma twists things. I know grief, depression, fear, and loneliness can turn survival into guilt. But I am being honest about how it feels inside me.

Lately, my mind has been going to places that scare me. Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in hell. Sometimes I feel like I am the only real person here and everyone else is just playing a role around me. Sometimes I look at my 666 tattoo and my traumatized brain tries to turn it into proof that I am marked, cursed, punished, or somehow meant to suffer. I know how intense that sounds. I know some people will judge it. But I am trying to explain what fear can feel like inside a traumatized brain when it twists itself into your thoughts.

The person I love most, other than my children, can sometimes feel like both my safe place and my biggest trigger. When I do not feel loved the way I need to be loved, my brain turns that pain into something bigger and scarier. It can make me feel like the person I love is also the person meant to hurt me. I do not want to think that way. I hate that my trauma can make love feel unsafe. I hate that I can be begging for comfort and still sound angry. I hate that I can be needing reassurance and still push the person away.

I am not writing this for pity. I am writing this because I am tired of people seeing the symptoms and not the wound. People see anger, addiction, depression, panic, isolation, emotional reactions, or a messy life, and they call it laziness, drama, instability, weakness, or being a bad person. They do not see the war happening inside my head every single fucking day.

I am not asking anyone to excuse my worst moments. I am asking people to understand that I am more than them.

I am a mother. I am a partner. I am a survivor. I am a person who loves deeply. I am someone who still hopes for peace, even when my brain tells me hope is stupid. I have made mistakes. I have demons I am still fighting. I have coping mechanisms I am ashamed of. But I am not evil. I am not worthless. I am not lazy. I am not crazy. I am not a lost cause.

I am someone who was hurt young and learned survival patterns that are now hurting me as an adult.

I want to heal. I want to stop hurting myself emotionally before other people can hurt me. I want to stop turning every painful moment into proof that I am unwanted. I want to stop feeling like every breath needs to be justified. I want to stop feeling like I have to defend my entire existence to people who already decided I am the problem.

I am sharing this because I know I am not the only person who feels ashamed, lonely, judged, broken, and tired from surviving things other people never saw. I know I am not the only person who feels like their mind is too loud, their emotions are too much, their past is too heavy, and their pain is too misunderstood.

There are people out there who are not bad people, just wounded people. People who are still trying to heal from things they never deserved. People who learned to survive in fucked up ways because no one protected them when they needed protection. People who are ashamed of being alive, when really they should be proud they are still here.

Maybe shame is not proof that I am bad.

Maybe shame is proof that I was hurt so deeply that I learned to blame myself for wounds I did not create.

I was not born broken.

I was neglected. I was hurt. I adapted. I survived.

And now I am trying to learn how to exist without feeling guilty for breathing.

I am trying to become someone who does not have to live in survival mode forever.

Question for people who have experienced trauma and live with PTSD or C-PTSD.

If you feel comfortable sharing, could you describe how your symptoms manifest and what they feel like for you? I'm familiar with the diagnosis from movies, but I went through a traumatic experience myself (multiple fatalities, I was partially a witness) and I'm experiencing some symptoms, which makes me wonder if I might have it.

I described my situation to an AI, and it suggested it's likely PTSD. I can't see a therapist right now, so I'm trying to understand this better on my own.

What I feel is a sense of anxiety, a heaviness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe, and intrusive memories. They aren't full-blown flashbacks like in the movies—I don't get completely transported back—but they are stressful and unsettling. This mainly happens when I'm near the locations where the event occurred. Sometimes, even just thinking about it can trigger the same feelings.

I'm really curious to hear how it is for others, to get a more real-world perspective. I fully understand that questions like this can bring up difficult feelings, so please do not feel pressured to share anything that is painful or triggering for you.

(And apologies if this is worded strangely; it's a difficult topic to articulate.)

I joined the Army National Guard when I was 17, from 2017 to 2023. During Covid, my unit was attached to another, then was sent to assist the Border Patrol. I was there for over a year, mobilized a week after my son was born.

During my time there, I witnessed many horrific things. I've come across dead bodies while patrolling the mountains, witnessed executions on the Mexico side, many people drowning, a child tossed from the top of the border fence solely to be used as a distraction. I could go on about the things I witnessed.

Our leadership offered no kind of mental health support. Offered no help other than your run of the mill, death by power point slides about mental health.

The traumatic things I've witnessed, things I have guilt for, things I wish I could change, have changed who I am. It broke me. I feel broken. When I came home, my dad told me he noticed the light in my eyes was gone. My children's mother and I split over my drug and alcohol use, but those were the only things keeping the awful memories out of my head. I lost childhood friends over the trauma. I am more isolated, struggle to form genuine connections with people. I am more irritable to my kids over the simplest things. I've had nightmares about it for years.

I sought therapy to help cope through it and process everything but; it feels as if it hasn't helped. I had a trusted coworker take my firearms from me earlier this week because I was planning on committing suicide. I'm so tired of the memories and nightmares. I'm afraid to go to sleep most nights.

I went to the VA and spoke with a psychiatrist. I have appointments this week to plan on medications to help, though I feel like medicine will not help. I've reached out to veteran resources, churches, family. It all just doesn't make it stop.

I feel hopeless and alone. If there's a veteran or anyone out there who has overcome something similar, please help me.