.....First I'll say that the reason why I'm doing this is just to acknowledge it, give myself a little credit and encourage some compassion for myself. Something that contradicts the bullsh*#t, self-talk that: "I'm 39 yrs. old, have had untreated PTSD most of my life, and should have succeeded in finding help a hell'a'va long time ago." If this makes little sense, please bear with me, as I'm truly not well. And, that's not to be interpreted as an excuse, negative talk, or any reason for fear. I've accepted and encouraged this now 'in my face' present and 'good' onset of PTSD illness. All in my sincerest attempt to confront, treat and learn to live with my PTSD. As I do not exaggerate when I say, I never, ever knew that there was any hope in release from an alienated existence when it comes to PTSD and all its marvelous symptoms. I had to learn to 'grin and bear', deny it, forget it, accept and live w/ it untreated, lump it together with other secondary diagnosis, and so forth. Here's my prior attempts of finding help and helping myself:

(8 yrs. old) • Having found a flask in fall clean-up's trash, I washed it out, filled it with water and brought it to school. I sat in class, during instruction with it propped up between my legs and... every so often when I noticed another child observing me, (I foc. on one or two specific childr. I thought would tell adults). I'd reach, grab hold of flask and take a swig. Desperately, wanting someone to notice and think I was drinking alcoholically and tell, so that I might find help.

(9 yrs. old) • While outside playing in neighborhood with friend, I espec. thought it might be clever to bang our wrist and arm hard enough, and long enough to succeed in breaking it. Figuring that this might raise suspicions and direct sane adults in my direction, that would delve into family matters, intervene and cause the abuse to stop. Even hoped that they'd become ally to me and perhaps provide any, (any would've been encouraging), much needed support, hope and affection.

(10 yrs. old) • Brought black-head or ingrown hair, needle like tool, to school and after gathering coats for recess or to leave school, I remained standing in coat room, having fastened something securely around my upper arm and making it look as though I was shooting up. Had timed it all that another child might see, react and I might receive help, and get set free from the violence, hatred and hell at home.

(11 yrs. old) • FTTT, I secretly hoped that perhaps I might just get caught in my acting out: (stealing), (hiding), (breaking rules and wandering about school solo) and get noticed, asked what was wrong and offered help.

(elem yrs.) • I secretly hoped my chronic tardiness and absenteeism would be looked into further and the hell & abuse at home stopped, the major sicko's unmasked and revealed, for the murderous people they were. I would then get the well needed help and support to grow-up, become someone and have a life.

....and the list goes on.

(13 yrs. old) • I was forced to attend sisters couns. session w/ her, me and our two abusers sitting in that f'n room with us. I sat knowing that I'd likely pay dearly if I revealed too much. (chased, dragged, pinned and beaten w/ fist). Feeling frustrated, angry and scared speechless, I turned my chair completely around and faced the wall refusing to talk bullsh*t...with the bullsh*#^'s. Sat thinking, I'll be O.K. just as soon as I get the fck away from :finger: these people.

(13 yrs. old) • When I discov. the powerful uninhibiting effects of alcohol on me, I hoped that I would both blot out the reality of the deranged, abusive folk back home, my enorm., fear, anxiety, anger and pain and successfully recreate my life. I longed to become a functioning, at ease, fearless, living, growing, working, learning, developing, normal part of society, w/ friends and normal, fun, caring people in my life.

(17 yrs. old) • Took indiv. initiative to locate and attend indiv. couns. for chronic bulimia. Ins. cov. app. 2 sessions and I was sent :walking: 2 sess. in which couns. collected gen. info. on bulimia, most likely for his own personal interest and exp.

(18 yrs. old) • Made many a phone call. Went off alone, w/ no one knowing anything, 30+ mi. on several occas. to receive ind. couns. Woman gathered much info. and recomm. I be hospitalized for bulimiarexia. Failed to accept help at Children's Hospital as I convinced myself that if I'm going to have to arrange and carry through w/ hosp. admittance absol. alone w/ no support from mother, (nor any wanted corruption from :boxem: her,) and miss wks. of senior yr., that perhaps I shouldn't. I was simply too afraid.

...Reminding myself my purpose is to share and get this stuff out of me and not to encourage my pers. resentment or self-pity.

Wow that's all really sad, especially the attempts for attention and help when you were a child. It never ceases to amaze and anger me, how adults can turn a blind eye to children who are in trouble and/or asking for help. My friend had a similar experience as a child and no one seemed to notice. Makes me wonder where the adults' brains were half the time.

Anyways great that you're getting it out. I'm sure it's a relief.

I am impressed hope... I like your direction lately. You keep this up, and your going to get everything out of you, which only leaves a little time to help the healing process then. Well done hope, exceptionally well done.