February 28, 2021
PD This is what's happening inside your head every minute as you suffer symtomatically. There is no respite from it. The people who should be helping you, instead abandon you because your behaviour scares them. You either don't care, or you drown in guilt about behaviour you can't help
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) occurs when a person endures a traumatic event so severe that it leaves lasting psychological scars. Over the past few decades, awareness of PTSD has increased, yet diagnosis and treatment often remain frustratingly slow—sometimes taking months to confirm, followed by long waits for government-funded psychological support.
PTSD can be triggered by various events perceived by the individual as deeply distressing. Though commonly linked with prolonged trauma, it may also develop after a single intense event.
Typical causes include:
Physical or sexual abuse
Domestic violence
Workplace trauma (especially among first responders)
Death of a loved one or profound grief
Childbirth complications
Torture or assault
Severe accidents or health crises
Near-death experiences
Military combat
Research suggests that around 33% of those who endure severe trauma will develop PTSD. While anyone exposed to trauma is at risk, factors such as pre-existing anxiety or depression—and possibly even genetic predisposition—may increase vulnerability.
There are four key symptoms doctors look for when diagnosing PTSD:
Flashbacks — Vivid, often uncontrollable re-experiencing of the traumatic event, usually triggered by emotional cues, causing intense anxiety.
Avoidance — Deliberate or unconscious efforts to avoid reminders, discussions, or situations associated with the trauma.
Detachment — Emotional numbing or withdrawal from relationships, activities, and life in general, often as a coping mechanism.
Memory Loss — Inability to recall parts of the traumatic event, either temporarily or permanently, with the body still reacting subconsciously to triggers.
If you or someone you know may be suffering from PTSD, help is available. Mental health hot-lines, medical professionals, psychologists, and peer support groups can offer guidance and coping strategies. Recovery involves acknowledging the trauma, understanding your triggers, and learning healthy responses. Though healing may be a lifelong process, it is possible with the right support and resources.
Warning: The following personal account contains mature subject matter and is not suitable for readers under 18.
The woman I’ve often referred to as "The Nanny" played a profound yet painful role in my life. We met in high school when everything seemed full of possibility. Instead, we ended up hurting each other in ways neither of us anticipated.
The biggest mistake of my life wasn’t meeting her—it was meeting her so-called "best friend," someone I’ve called "the cow" or "the whore" in other writings. She wasn’t even on my radar. She was a Grade 12 student hanging around with a freshman, (Grade 9) which already felt off. I was caught somewhere between grades 9 and 11, and the social dynamics were complicated.
Our relationship began antagonistically, mostly revolving around control over the Nanny — a massive red flag I failed to notice amid everything else falling apart. As my relationship with the Nanny deteriorated due to trust and communication issues, this "friend" wormed her way into my life.
Within hours of spending real time together, we slept together — an early sign of how hollow and manipulative this relationship would be. She was 17. The experience felt less like passion and more like a performance, leaving me unsettled. What followed was years of toxic on-again, off-again involvement, fueled by her constant infidelity, manipulative games, and my growing sense of deadness inside.
PD Signs of a Toxic Relationship. The thing with the whore didn't descend into this, it started here and never changed. This went on for 10 years.
This wasn’t PTSD — this was me feeling utterly hollow, hopeless, and emotionally dead. I stood by as she slept with my friends, their brothers, and whoever else crossed her path. Things only started to shift when she got pregnant — and I had no idea who the father was.
What finally shattered any remaining attachment was discovering she had enabled the rape of a minor. My disgust hit a breaking point. I asked her when she planned to "calf" and told her to get the hell out of my house. Later, in a grotesque attempt at reconciliation, she walked naked into the living room, lay on the floor, spread her legs, and started masturbating in front of me.
I was disgusted when she began to jerk off in front of me. Quite a bit went into this scene. Four days before I'd thrown her and her pedophile boyfriend out of the house for raping a 14 year old child. Evidently while she'd been away, she'd decided that this was the way to seduce me back to her. She appeared shocked when I told her to quit it, and that she was acting like a whore, and to put her clothes on. She appeared utterly unable to appreciate that she'd done anything wrong. The thing really flummoxed her, because she got on the phone and called some crises line, and told the individual on the line that, she'd gotten naked, and had tried to jerk off for me, to fulfill one on my “fantasies”. Sadly for the whore, I overheard that part of the conversation, and called out loudly enough to be heard by the crises line person, interrupting their spiel about “some men can't handle their sexual fan...” “Did you tell her that you and your pedophile best friend raped a child, and that your existence disgusts me?” The crises line person said something about calling the police, and the whore hung up on her. I then spent a couple of hopeful hours waiting for the cops to show up, but they never did. The whore then fled to her pedophile boyfriend's place to warn him. She stayed with him for the next week.
I was so revolted I left the house to get coffee.
After nearly a decade of this hell, the happiest moment came near the end. I was getting ready for work when she walked in, covered in bruises, with a split lip and black eye — the result of yet another abusive relationship, this time with a violent, predatory man. I looked at her calmly and said, “I hope it was worth it. You disgust me. We’re done. You’ll have the separation papers soon.” That was the happiest moment of my marriage.
So, how does this relate to PTSD?
In my article The Mothman, I explored how certain people and events seem meant to teach us hard lessons. My mother started that lesson by treating me like garbage. This woman — with her cruelty, disrespect, and manipulation — continued it. And in return, my hardened indifference became a lesson for her. The violent man who beat her? Another chapter in that same cruel education.
The lessons only stop when they’re finally learned.
