catz
18-08-2006, 02:41 PM
Well, it was more more difficult to put together than I thought, but here it is...
I have PTSD from an accident I had at 13 years of age. The pony I was riding took off and galloped onto a freeway colliding with a moving truck. All I remember was waking up in Hospital with concussion, broken ribs, cracked ribs, my right leg was crushed and broken in 3 places below the knee. Altogether, I spent 18 months in Hospital, with lots of operations, including bone and skin grafts, leaving me with extensive scarring on both legs.The worst damage was to my right leg. In all that time, no-one prepared me, or told me how bad it really was.
I still remember, vividly, seeing it for the first time. It was like a bomb blew up in my head. My right leg was horribly disfigured. It was 2 inches shorter, the ankle was twisted, and all the muscle tissue had been removed because of horse hair infection. Instantly, all I could think of was how I couldn't live like that and that no-one else could ever see it. I had never thought of suicide in my life before, and from then on it was all I could think of, every time I looked at it. Its amazing how many times a day you catch sight of your legs...
I tried to avoid looking at it at all costs, but when I wouldn't look at it, I'd end up thinking of it anyway. It haunted me in flashbacks. I was reminded of it with every step I took. The strange thing is, that, the initial shock and horror I felt when I first saw my leg, never diminished in intensity. Each time I saw it, or thought about it, was as devastating as the first. My mind shut down when I saw what I had to live with. It was like a dark cloud descended, covering everything. From then on I felt like I was living in a seperate dimension to everyone else. My personality changed imediately. I lost all my good feelings and turned to ice inside. I withdrew inside myself. I became very anxious and on 'high alert' around people.
I didn't think things could get worse, until they told me that I would have to wear an ugly metal caliper and use a walking stick, permanently. After relearning how to walk, I found I couldn't even walk normally, throwing my leg out to the side with each step. I walked slowly and awkwardly, and in total embarrassment. I hated it, but I forced myself to walk outside, around people, feeling like Quasimodo all the time. When people stared, I wished I were dead. There was no counselling and no therapy offered. I withdrew more into myself, lost all my self-confidence, had panic attacks when I was around people, and had anxiety, depression, and PTSD (although, I didn't really know what these were at the time). Three nightmare years later, I Iearned that my leg was beyond saving and had to be amputated below knee. That was my last major operation. But, I won't go into that, except to say that it was very traumatic. When it was over, my anxiety and depression were much worse, and my PTSD symptoms jumped to a whole new level. I had to learn to walk again. I felt even deader inside. My mind really closed down.
So I was left in a bit of a mess, psychologically, because I wasn't really equipped to deal with it all. I didn't see the world in the same way anymore. It was not a safe place and I felt completely isolated. Before the accident I was a top student, across the board. After it, I lost all my interests and motivation. I couldn't take anything in. I couldn't produce anything. I just seemed to lose it all overnight. I had gone back to High school when I was able to, after the accident, and I was really shocked at the difference in my abilities. I couldn't concentrate or remember much, without spending hours forcing the information into my brain. After the amputation this became much worse. By the time I started working, I had lost confidence in all of my abilities. I couldn't relate to anyone socially. I felt like such an alien. Although I eventually got into University, I really struggled with the course. I scraped by, with grades that didn't really reflect who I was before the accident. I felt like a dummy. I didn't realize it at the time but I was so badly damaged and severely and consistently traumatised that I couldn't study.
Ultimately, while I was working and studying, it all came to a head and my mind just came to a halt, like my brain was overloaded. I saw a GP who prescribed anti-depressants. That was the first time I had slept properly since the accident, 14 years earlier. Anti-depressants made a difference for me. It was as if someone turned the lights back on. They didn't cure my anxiety or PTSD symptoms, but showed me just how shut down I'd really been. I actually started to feel some things again. I got a bit of my self back.
What really improved things, for me, was being referred to a good Psychiatrist, and becoming aware of what PTSD was. So many things fell into place. I was able to understand what was going on with me. However, It took me a long time, even to speak of what happened, and how I felt. I've made a lot of progress with his help. I no longer have panic attacks or depression. My hypervigilance has lifted to the extent that I'm able to concentrate , my memory is back to normal and it seems that a lot of my abilities are returning. Unfortunately, I still have a lot of anxiety and a lack of confidence in those abilities, with so many bad memories of how I felt when I couldn't do it. Just the thought of writing something, sets off a lot of anxiety and self-doubt. Some day, I'd really like to do a degree in Ancient History, which I love, and which was my passion before the accident, but I'm still battling PTSD defence mechanisms, which makes it very hard.
A large part of my anxiety about writing comes from my bad experiences with returning to High School, trying to work, struggling with University, all while I was trying to cope with disability, anxiety, depression and PTSD. I look back on a life of personal failure. What lingers significantly in my mind, and really affects my confidence, is the Court case I had to endure before the amputation. Its bad enough being permanently injured through someone else's greed and carelessness, without having to have their QC sneering at you and mocking you with snide remarks, trying to belittle you in Court. Well, he succeeded. To this day, I am trying to overcome his comments.
Later,
Catz
I have PTSD from an accident I had at 13 years of age. The pony I was riding took off and galloped onto a freeway colliding with a moving truck. All I remember was waking up in Hospital with concussion, broken ribs, cracked ribs, my right leg was crushed and broken in 3 places below the knee. Altogether, I spent 18 months in Hospital, with lots of operations, including bone and skin grafts, leaving me with extensive scarring on both legs.The worst damage was to my right leg. In all that time, no-one prepared me, or told me how bad it really was.
I still remember, vividly, seeing it for the first time. It was like a bomb blew up in my head. My right leg was horribly disfigured. It was 2 inches shorter, the ankle was twisted, and all the muscle tissue had been removed because of horse hair infection. Instantly, all I could think of was how I couldn't live like that and that no-one else could ever see it. I had never thought of suicide in my life before, and from then on it was all I could think of, every time I looked at it. Its amazing how many times a day you catch sight of your legs...
I tried to avoid looking at it at all costs, but when I wouldn't look at it, I'd end up thinking of it anyway. It haunted me in flashbacks. I was reminded of it with every step I took. The strange thing is, that, the initial shock and horror I felt when I first saw my leg, never diminished in intensity. Each time I saw it, or thought about it, was as devastating as the first. My mind shut down when I saw what I had to live with. It was like a dark cloud descended, covering everything. From then on I felt like I was living in a seperate dimension to everyone else. My personality changed imediately. I lost all my good feelings and turned to ice inside. I withdrew inside myself. I became very anxious and on 'high alert' around people.
I didn't think things could get worse, until they told me that I would have to wear an ugly metal caliper and use a walking stick, permanently. After relearning how to walk, I found I couldn't even walk normally, throwing my leg out to the side with each step. I walked slowly and awkwardly, and in total embarrassment. I hated it, but I forced myself to walk outside, around people, feeling like Quasimodo all the time. When people stared, I wished I were dead. There was no counselling and no therapy offered. I withdrew more into myself, lost all my self-confidence, had panic attacks when I was around people, and had anxiety, depression, and PTSD (although, I didn't really know what these were at the time). Three nightmare years later, I Iearned that my leg was beyond saving and had to be amputated below knee. That was my last major operation. But, I won't go into that, except to say that it was very traumatic. When it was over, my anxiety and depression were much worse, and my PTSD symptoms jumped to a whole new level. I had to learn to walk again. I felt even deader inside. My mind really closed down.
So I was left in a bit of a mess, psychologically, because I wasn't really equipped to deal with it all. I didn't see the world in the same way anymore. It was not a safe place and I felt completely isolated. Before the accident I was a top student, across the board. After it, I lost all my interests and motivation. I couldn't take anything in. I couldn't produce anything. I just seemed to lose it all overnight. I had gone back to High school when I was able to, after the accident, and I was really shocked at the difference in my abilities. I couldn't concentrate or remember much, without spending hours forcing the information into my brain. After the amputation this became much worse. By the time I started working, I had lost confidence in all of my abilities. I couldn't relate to anyone socially. I felt like such an alien. Although I eventually got into University, I really struggled with the course. I scraped by, with grades that didn't really reflect who I was before the accident. I felt like a dummy. I didn't realize it at the time but I was so badly damaged and severely and consistently traumatised that I couldn't study.
Ultimately, while I was working and studying, it all came to a head and my mind just came to a halt, like my brain was overloaded. I saw a GP who prescribed anti-depressants. That was the first time I had slept properly since the accident, 14 years earlier. Anti-depressants made a difference for me. It was as if someone turned the lights back on. They didn't cure my anxiety or PTSD symptoms, but showed me just how shut down I'd really been. I actually started to feel some things again. I got a bit of my self back.
What really improved things, for me, was being referred to a good Psychiatrist, and becoming aware of what PTSD was. So many things fell into place. I was able to understand what was going on with me. However, It took me a long time, even to speak of what happened, and how I felt. I've made a lot of progress with his help. I no longer have panic attacks or depression. My hypervigilance has lifted to the extent that I'm able to concentrate , my memory is back to normal and it seems that a lot of my abilities are returning. Unfortunately, I still have a lot of anxiety and a lack of confidence in those abilities, with so many bad memories of how I felt when I couldn't do it. Just the thought of writing something, sets off a lot of anxiety and self-doubt. Some day, I'd really like to do a degree in Ancient History, which I love, and which was my passion before the accident, but I'm still battling PTSD defence mechanisms, which makes it very hard.
A large part of my anxiety about writing comes from my bad experiences with returning to High School, trying to work, struggling with University, all while I was trying to cope with disability, anxiety, depression and PTSD. I look back on a life of personal failure. What lingers significantly in my mind, and really affects my confidence, is the Court case I had to endure before the amputation. Its bad enough being permanently injured through someone else's greed and carelessness, without having to have their QC sneering at you and mocking you with snide remarks, trying to belittle you in Court. Well, he succeeded. To this day, I am trying to overcome his comments.
Later,
Catz