How do I live with post-traumatic syndrome
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD (post-traumatic syndrome) is a relatively new diagnosis, officially recognized only in the 1980s through the efforts of American war veterans. Largely due to this, he is associated primarily with soldiers and residents of the front-line zones, although you can face him without military actions nearby. The cause of PTSD can be any traumatic event: car accident, rape, or natural disaster. In addition, the disorder can develop in people who have been subjected to systematic abuse in childhood or in adulthood - such an injury is called accumulated. We talked with Lyubov Melnikova, a support service engineer who has been living in Germany for two years, working in an international company and has been undergoing treatment for PTSD for three years now.
My life cannot be called unsuccessful: I grew up in Petersburg, went to a good school, graduated from St. Petersburg State University and found a pleasant job that helped me move to Germany. I work, I study, I have a young man and friends. I do not impress a closed man. But I have a whole bunch of diagnoses: post-traumatic stress disorder, personality disorder and their results - depression and anorexia.
My injury occurred a long time ago, in childhood. I grew up in Petersburg with my mother and grandmother. Both of them are sick: grandmother has schizophrenia, and mother has schizoaffective disorder. At first everything was fine, but since no one treated them, over time it only got worse. Their condition greatly influenced my life, even though I didn’t realize it: the older I got, the more my mother and grandmother's disease progressed. My PTSD is the result of many years of living with people with serious disorders.
Somewhere before the age of twenty-one, I did not understand what was wrong with my mother and grandmother — until their illness had reached its peak. Then they had paranoid thoughts - for example, that the mafia wants to take away our apartment. The thoughts themselves are irrelevant. It is significant that, as a result, they locked me at home for a few days, because they believed that I was taking drugs (do I need to say that it was not so?). I escaped from the house, and the matter ended in the fact that they both went to a psychiatric hospital. Mom went for it herself, and her grandmother was forced to be treated forcibly, because she did not believe that she was ill.
Perhaps this moment can be called the most traumatic event in my life - a kind of catharsis. Before that, I lived and thought that I was fine. That my relatives are a little strange - and whose not strange? It seemed to me that you could just close your eyes to this. Of course, at that time I hadn’t read anything on the subject, but I only thought about schizophrenia that it was something absolutely terrible that it would never affect me and my family. It seemed to get sick in some other world. When my mother and grandmother were admitted to the hospital, I experienced the strongest shock. Even then, despite the fact that they were confirmed diagnoses, I did not look for information on the Internet. I had the first episode of depression, very strong. I hit religion because I didn’t know that therapy can help, that it is also for people like me, and not only for people with "serious problems." I tried to cope with my depression myself, even though it was hard for me.
Then my mother and grandmother were released from the hospital. I immediately moved out of the apartment, but we continued to communicate. It was very difficult, because I actually returned to that situation, as a result of which I had an injury. Now it seems to me that my own memory has protected me. For example, I didn’t remember any details: the day when my mother and grandmother were taken to the hospital, or how they locked me at home. As if this did not happen to me. I lived in such anabiosis a couple of years. I began to take drugs, trying to get away from the problem, then, having stopped taking them, I drank heavily. Then there was a toxic relationship. Then there was an eating disorder. All this self-destruction was an attempt to stop thinking about the suffering that my daily life caused me. Finally, I felt so bad that I went to a therapist.
The first therapist saw only depression and treated her. She advised me to move away from my mother and grandmother, prescribed antidepressants for me. The treatment did not come up with her - maybe because she works in the technique of psychoanalysis, and cognitive-behavioral therapy is more suitable for me. The difference between these approaches is that in the analysis the therapist is more detached and you do not get a reaction from him, for example, sympathy. You are not taught the techniques of independent work. The analysis mainly relies on working with the analyst and medications - this is similar to a conversation with a harsh portrait of Freud. And cognitive-behavioral therapy is the same thing plus the work of the therapist: you get more sympathy, participation, reaction.
It seemed to me that one person could not have so many diagnoses - because I already had depression
Then I moved to Germany - and because of the stress of moving (another country, another language) everything started all over again. At that time, the trauma trigger for me was even ordinary telephone conversations on everyday topics. I had a panic attack - as it seemed to me, from scratch. For example, I could come home, understand that my mother did not call me all day, and probably she would call now - and I started a panic attack. Classes with a psychotherapist at first only increased the effect, because for the first time I looked at my problem in the face. Then I began to have nightmares.
The fact that I have PTSD, I understood myself: at some point I began to read a lot of feminist resources, which included including mental disorders, and came across a text about trauma. I read about PTSD on Wikipedia and found out my symptoms in the description. True, the symptoms of personality disorder also resembled what I experienced, but it seemed to me that one person could not have so many diagnoses - after all, I was already depressed. It turned out, maybe now all these diagnoses are in my card.
Now I live in Germany and I study here with another therapist. I was lucky with her: she is engaged in cognitive-behavioral and dialectical behavioral therapy. We are going to start working directly with my injury, but I don’t know how it will pass: our previous attempts ended badly and I tried to kill myself. In 2016, I was twice in a psychiatric hospital. True, in Germany they are absolutely paradise and more like sanatoriums - not like in Russia.
If you try to describe PTSD in a nutshell, you can say that this is the inability to release the experienced trauma. She seems to be always with you: you are constantly re-immersed in a traumatic situation and relive it. In addition, injuries affect the human brain itself, its departments, which are responsible for memory and the feeling of fear - as a result, a person suffering from PTSD reacts differently to everyday situations.
Many say that PTSD is about flashbacks. This is true, and it is very unpleasant. Flashback can cause anything: for example, you go to the store, and something - color or light - throws you back, you stand with a bunch of pasta in your hands and experience horror, "falling" into the past. These are very vivid, rich memories, as if you are re-experiencing a moment from the past. I have been working with this for a long time, but so far they have not gone away.
Flashback can cause anything: and here you stand with a pack of pasta and experience horror, "falling" into the past
There are still panic attacks, but I learned to cope with them. Here dialectic-behavioral therapy and meditative practices help a lot: breathing exercises, grounding (when you list objects around you). True, they do not save flashbacks. The difference between flashbacks and panic attacks is that a panic attack is when you are just very scared, here and now, your heart begins to beat, you breathe a little. With a flashback, you seem to be in the past, you know what will happen now, and you cannot change anything - a very unpleasant feeling. I also had depersonalization, when I thought that I was not me; I look at my hands, and it seems to me that they are not mine.
It seems to me that it is possible to live with PTSD, although it is difficult. Against the background of PTSD, depression often develops, with which living is even more difficult. At the same time, I cannot say that my problems hindered me from studying very much. True, they began when I was already on the last courses - if it happened at the first, I would probably quit the university. Previously, my favorite job was a real salvation for me. She occupied all my time and was the only sphere that my mother and grandmother could not influence: their opinion did not matter and they could not express it at all. In difficult times I worked without interruptions - for example, I replaced my colleagues at the weekend. I only slept at home, and as such I didn’t have a house — I moved all the time. Even now, all my belongings are placed in four boxes and a suitcase, and only now I begin to get used to the fact that the house is the place where I feel good and calm.
It is customary to think that PTSD happens only to those who were at war. From the outside my life looks quite normal, even rainbow. All the formal signs of success are evident: I travel, I work - but at the same time no one knows that I can stand in the store with the same packet of pasta in my hand and I am very scared. Moreover, nobody knows that six months ago I stopped talking to my mother and grandmother altogether. This happened because in the last year my mental state worsened - my therapist and I began working directly with my injury. After each session, I have nightmares for a whole week, and I wake up sweating in my wet bed. There are still days when I'm scared to leave the house. I also get scared when I come to Russia, because it seems to me that I’m now meeting my relatives - although I understand that they can’t do anything to me.
Despite the fact that I go to work, to courses, I communicate with colleagues, I have almost no close friends
Since I stopped communicating with my mother and grandmother, I felt better. There are fewer panic attacks, flashbacks occur less frequently - however, if I start talking about myself in detail, it becomes worse. I stopped communicating with the approval of my therapist - I have been wanting for a long time, and she agreed that it would be good for me. I wrote my mother a long letter, blocked her in all social networks and the phone. It is very difficult, because, on the one hand, I understand that it is because of them that I have a trauma, and on the other - I think: "They love me." Although how can they love me if they did this to me?
I didn’t tell about my diagnosis, because there is a serious stigma. If I speak, it is only about depression, and not about PTSD, including because they know too little about the latter and associate it exclusively with war. Although my depression is a direct result of PTSD and personality disorders. Depression is treated with understanding, and I believe that this is a great progress: four years ago, when I got my first job, everything was completely different. And now most of my friends and colleagues know that this is a real disease, and not “just laziness.”
PTSD is far from this level of understanding. My current young man does not even know that I have been treating PTSD, although we have been together for two years now. He does not understand what it is, so it makes little sense to tell him about the injury. People generally tend to shut themselves off from what seems too scary to them; for example, when I tell people about what their relatives did to me, they say: "What a horror," and we no longer touch on this topic, no matter how positive and caring they may be. Sometimes it seems to me that this is just a defensive reaction. Now I can honestly talk about PTSD only with a psychotherapist.
The disorder greatly affects my relationships with others - especially the romantic ones. Previously, I was drawn to unhealthy individuals who were prone to abuse, which only increased my injury. Now it is still very difficult for me to build relationships with people, to trust them. Despite the fact that I go to work, to courses, I communicate with colleagues, I almost have no close friends. The only close friend is the girl who helped me find my first therapist. We talked for a long time, built relationships, and she understood me. I don’t speak much on the Internet, but recently I have found some new acquaintances.
You can live with PTSD. In many ways, I succeeded because I tried not to depend on my relatives, because I did not want to return to them. My whole life was devoted to making money and providing housing for myself - for me it was a priority. Now I decided to tell about my disorder in many respects because I want to help other people who suffer from it, to de-stigmatize the disease. Let those who know me as a successful person see that I am being treated for PTSD.