Misunderstood

Most people I encounter are unaware of anyone other than themselves. People are just NPCs in their private world. On occasion, someone does try to understand. But despite all their acknowledgement and seeming understanding, when the rubber hits the road and they actually see what I've been telling them, they're unable to compute.

Yesterday, I encountered one of the oblivious who got mildly aggressive toward me pounding the table, continually calling me name when ranting, and despite my best efforts to redirect and disengage, I was indirectly and directly the stool on which this person wanted to verbally grandstand in front of others.

I made it through with moderate symptoms and my boss tried to talk about it with me later. I explained I wasn't ok with that and that it had nothing to do with the work product. Revise it, love it, toss it out and go another direction, I don't care. But I am not going to sit there and be badgered about it.

My boss knows my condition. We've talked about it. But when it raises it's head, he has no idea what to do or how to take it. "That's just the way she is..." Yeah, well this is just the way I am and if she's going to bully, get ready for the fireworks because I won't take it.

So to try to keep my job, I'll retreat, strategically fail while preserving my reputation, and then bail before the bridges burn entirely. If I'm lucky the antagonist will get hers before I have to jump ship and I can ride a little longer, but nowhere is long term. Every calm is just a lull before the next storm.

And he's not the only one. My wife has had trouble internalizing it, thinking my problems are her fault. And after her own counseling to deal with that, she now just raises a wall. As soon as I try to express anything about my feelings or symptoms, she just tells herself she can't help and blocks me out.

This is why relationships of any kind are so hard for cptsd. Everyone wounds and no one is trustworthy. So just stay away from me.

I know it's hard to deal with and that is no one else's problem. But it would sure be nice if someone would have the compassion to understand that as bad as it seems to you, imagine living inside it!

Everything is so raw. It's like having no skin, so I turn off my nerves, wrap myself in a thick hide to cover the tender flesh, but it's suffocating and exhausting and I know how every story is going to end as soon as it begins.