I've never been quiet about my living with/dealing with/treatment for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have always felt like because I live part of my life in the public eye, it was a perfect opportunity for me to showcase this disorder in a light other than war-experienced soldiers.
My disorder comes from multiple experiences caused by a male who decided he needed to be in my life without my consent. I wasn't ever physically harmed or assaulted by this male, but his actions led my body and brain into this disorder. He decided that he should be allowed into my bedroom in the dead of night; he decided that my locked front door was an invitation to kicked it in while I wasn't home; he decided that after multiple calls to the police that I surely still wanted his attention.
I sought out treatment, and was doing great! I had gotten my sleep schedule back to something normal after a couple years, and my tiggers were under control. My PTSD had merely become watered down into the occasional anxiety and distrust around new men in my life. I considered that to be a win after the shit I went through!
Then, last weekend happened. The pervert who showed me that I was nothing but a sex object by jacking-off to my body in the middle of a fucking field. He breached my bubble. He took it upon himself to eliminate my comfort for his pleasure. This man re-traumatized me.
My paranoia took hold within minutes. My insomnia came back with full force. My anxiety, worry, and doubt is turned up to 11. This experience has brought me back to a place I didn't want to be in ever again.
Fuck. That. Guy.
I hope karma finds him, and slaps the shit out of him for this. I truly do. People with no respect for others make me physically ill. I don't wish PTSD upon him, but I hope that he learns the errors of his ways before he hurts another person.
I'm not writing this to get pity, or comfort, or anything else. I'm writing this to show people that mental health is important, that the majority of humans deal with some kind of mental health issue and that is ok. I'm writing to show you how influential one person's greed can be; how one person's entitlement can lead to years of mental health issues for another.
I have talked about this to a few people in my life, and considered going back to therapy. I have conquered my paranoia, and now attempting to wrangle my insomnia. My anxiety is back to a "I can deal with it" level, and it hasn't been affecting my work. I would really love to have a partner in my life right now, but that isn't happening any time soon. Someone to talk to on an intimate level is what I'm yearning for. If only, if only...