I hate having such niche and rare problems that are pushing me to ctb

[KuriGohan&Kamehameha]

Many times in my life, a couple people who were close to be would tell me in moments of anger that, "I'm not special, so stop pretending like I am" specifically in the context of my problems. Usually, people say this if they believe you are being arrogant/ think that you are better than others (which I'm definitely not, this girl right here is an disabled loser with brainrot, literally) but I find when I have expressed frustration about my troubles people either refuse to believe me because my issues are so strange and uncommon, or they're dumbfounded. And this includes so called professionals.

I'm well aware that my issues are uncommon, but they aren't entirely far fetched, I think. Yet, outside of this forum, I've hardly met any people in my life who understand what I'm going through, and this creates an incredibly profound sense of loneliness. I already struggle to relate to the average person not only because I am autistic, but also because enduring so much absurdity in my lifetime further removed me from what I view as the normal human experience.

One of the biggest frustrations throughout my life has been my desire to understand what went wrong in my life, and to remedy those failings. Ever since an early age, my life had been deeply entwined with psychology and psychiatry, as my family thought it would be the key to fixing me. Surprise, surprise, it just made everything worse. All of my physical health problems and traumatic experiences were shrugged off and downplayed for years while I was thrown on every drug cocktail under the sun starting from my early teenage years.

I was supposed to be diagnosed with ASD as a toddler, but it didn't happen until I was a teenager legally capable of making my own private medical decisions, as one of my grandparents decided to deliberately withdraw from the assessment process so that I would not be diagnosed. This meant that I spent my entire childhood being bullied, receiving no proper help, and left to fester with a speech impediment, bizarre behaviours, and developmental delays because I grew up in a poor, rural place where no one even knew what autism was (it was much more rare in the 90s and early 2000s) or believed that girls could have autism.

This experience is not uncommon, especially if you look into the sheer number of autistic adults and teenagers who were diagnosed later in life and struggled due to that delay, but the events that followed were. Having ASD has ensured that a lot of what I say won't ever be taken seriously by many people, because the manner in which I speak, my body language, gait, mannerisms, etc makes others uncomfortable.

Especially if you grew up in a culture like I did where people tend to be loud, fake polite, outwardly expressive with body language, dishonest, and social interactions have multiple levels of mind games and cues you're meant to decipher- I've never been able to mimic those expectations no matter how hard I tried. It's the gift that keeps on giving, because it ruins my credibility too.

My bizarre, autistic behaviour as a child masked the fact that I was molested. It was easier for the adults in my life to believe that I was a brat and acting out, I guess. The second time that I was getting continuously molested as a young teenager, no one believed me because the older guy who was doing these awful things to me was a popular and well liked student at my school. Even though he confessed to molesting me years later, he walked free of any convictions and disciplinary action, whilst I had to spend my entire adolescence being branded as that messed up girl who falsely accused a beloved young man in the community of sexual abuse.

Time and time again in my life I have been taken advantage of and made to feel like a mannequin or doll to be played with rather than a human being. I know that abuse and neglect are sadly not uncommon occurrences in this world, but I feel like I've experienced far more than a lifetime worth of them. For those of you who know what an ACE score is, I clock in at a 9/10. When I go into details about my childhood and young adult life, it has always left therapists speechless and unable to offer any meaningful sentiment. My case is so complex, convoluted, and full of ideosyncracies, that no one has ever been able to help me. And they never will.

It constantly feels like I was dealt a heavy handed punishment since day one, being cursed with the inability to truly relate to anyone. Perhaps, I could cope better if there were one or two central problems in my life, but there is such a complicated entanglement of complaints that simply can't be separated. I have cPTSD that doesn't respond to any treatment, I have autism, I have chronic fatigue, I have a structural defect of the brain, I have tumors and cysts that keep popping up in my ovaries, I have spinal disease, I have no family, I could go on and on. But my point is, there are few people in the same boat as me. Sure, I could find someone who shares one of my issues, but the others would perplex them since those troubles are completely unfamiliar to them.

It is an extremely hollow and soul crushing position to be in, when all you can do is shout into the void. Nothing in mainstream psychiatry or psychology resonates with me in the slightest anymore. Over and over again, I've taken medications that did not work, I've been talked down to and spoken to like a petulant child who knows nothing, I've read books about PTSD that gave insight into why I am how I am but offered no solutions to mend that innate brokenness, I've spoke to therapists who offered harmful and damaging advice or shrugged their shoulders, and it has left me permanently suicidal because I know there's no real help out there for people like me.

The sort of PTSD I have is so niche and under-studied that I highly doubt there will be an effective resolution in my lifetime, for my particular case. Documentation of abuse caused by medic professionals is scant and borderline non existent. As early as 5/6 years old, I was getting UTIs, masturbating, making fucked up "playing doctor" scenarios with my toys, feeling violated constantly, and mortified of any medical environments. You can probably guess why. It has now been almost 20 years and my PTSD is even worse due to the compounding traumatic experiences.

Every bit of conventional wisdom has left me with nothing. Exposure makes it worse. Doctors mock my pain and many of them refuse to even acknowledge that I have PTSD or that they could trigger me even though I have been diagnosed for years, they call it a "little bit of anxiety". They took away the only sedative that helped me if I was forced to be in a medical environment, for absolutely no reason. Supposedly I am an irrational and mentally ill person for being unable to trust them and feeling violated by this profession, when all evidence points in the opposite direction. I have no reason to trust an institution which has ruined my entire life.

I've been told multiple times by healthcare staff things like, I need to be forced to accept penetration, that I need to want sex with partners and am letting trauma rule my life, I should be made to use dilators to make myself accept penetration so I can let them penetrate me against my will (for a test I said no to about 10 times), that I need to be forced to go to exposure therapy and get over it until I am desensitized, that I'm making up my physical health problems, my concerns are just anxiety, I don't need tests I just have boy problems, I am not trying hard enough to get better, everyone else can do this, etc.

Asserting any sort of boundary gets me treated as if I'm an insane malingerer. I've been suffering from chronic pain and poor health for years and these awful doctors and nurses kept gaslighting me and making me think I was lazy and not trying hard enough to improve my situation. Well guess what, my brain is deformed and protruding into my spine! I have horrible dysautonomia symptoms like Raynaud's, brainfog, non stop fatigue, neuropathy etc and everyone told me for years I am just depressed, lazy, and not trying to get my life in order. Nevermind the constant accusations that if I were really sick I would endure any and all pain and humiliation ad nauseum to search for answers, even if there isn't a true evidence based reason, because that's what real sick people do.

Additionally, I have scoliosis, degenerating discs, and inflammatory lesions of the spine likely caused by an autoimmune disease called AS, and the pain gets worse and worse as time drags on, yet they REFUSE to treat me or give me any sort of pain management because the NHS GP doesn't know about any of these rare conditions, typed them into google, shrugged, then told me to just exercise. I begged and pleaded with them, emphasizing I can barely do anything because of how bad I feel everyday, and they don't care. It makes me want to scream. When the pain is bad, it is excruciating, and activity is almost always guaranteed to cause me pain. Of course it would, I have a hole in my spine.

I feel like I'm living in a half-life. My chronic conditions are so bad I spend most of my time in bed, and the rest forced to push myself beyond my limitations. Ever since I had surgery a year ago to remove the tumors I had in my reproductive system, I have been even more of a shell of my former self. Throughout my melancholy, painful childhood, I was always told by therapists that once I turned 18, the world would be my oyster because I would be free to do whatever I wanted, with no more abuse and harassment from my family or my classmates. Yet, it's been the complete opposite. There are so many things I want to do, and CAN'T. It's a new type of existential horror to have the urge to create and yet your mind is this completely hollow and empty thing, unable to conure up anything creative or coherent and your vision permanently swirled, a permanent heaviness all over your body and struggle to stay awake.

When people actually do believe me about my sorry excuse of a life, they look at me with pity rather than empathy. Quite a few people I've been friends with in the past have told me that my life is a horror show and they can't fathom how I manage in the day to day. People just don't know what to say, and no one has answers for me. I would not want to kill myself if there was a way to fix my life, but there simply isn't. I've been down every rabbit hole that exists, including alternative treatments like psychedelics, supplements and herbal stuff, changing up diet, and it doesn't make one ounce of difference because I inherited these tricky, obscure fucking diseases, alongside being constantly neglected and abused until the point I became completely emotionally numb. I don't even know if I'm capable of loving another person romantically ever again.

All I wanted was to be normal, and if that wasn't in the realm of possibility, then maybe whatever evil deity or entropic force out there would be merciful and grant me normal problems, with normal solutions. Instead, I am this completely broken mess of a thing, no longer human yet forced to parade around as if I am. This will be the reason why I ultimately end things in the coming months. Believe me, I did try to make something out of the circumstances I was given. I really did try.

but now all that's left is the bus. There's no way to count the number of times I begged for help, only to realise it doesn't exist for a person like me.

 

[LaVieEnRose]

This is like exactly how I feel, though there are plenty of differences between our exact experiences. If there weren't we wouldn't be feeling this as keenly, right? So even if there is someone who resonates, there will always be enough differences to make you still feel alienated. But I relate very well to large portions of what you wrote as well as the general sentiment.

When my pain was at its worst, my therapist accused me of being "grandiose" because I felt that I was perhaps a worse time than average. How many other people were crying for hours on end each night? Fuck therapy. People don't know you at all if they sincerely believe that you're arrogant. But the fact that is that the unusual and incomprehensible nature of traumatic experience is going to complicate the process of dealing with it. As a morbid example, consider someone who loses an elderly mother to illness versus someone whose elderly mother is and murdered. Who's probably going to have an easier time psychologically? The latter, one reason for which being that that's more of an extreme experience and less universal and harder to find common ground with others over.

Everyone's feelings may be valid but there are still appreciable degrees in the number and type of problems that are present in people's lives.

I definitely feel you on nor having a reprieve in any area or department of life. That's what really gets me about my life.

Ever since an early age, my life had been deeply entwined with psychology and psychiatry, as my family thought it would be the key to fixing me. Surprise, surprise, it just made everything worse. All of my physical health problems and traumatic experiences were shrugged off and downplayed for years while I was thrown on every drug cocktail under the sun starting from my early teenage years.

Ugh, mine too. It was literally embedded into my life. I doubt I ever would have gone to a therapist on my own initiative so I feel very resentful that I didn't get to make that choice for myself, especially it ended up screwing me over. Even now I've never seen a psychiatrist on my own terms, without any input from my parents.

I was diagnosed with autism much earlier (though it still took them a few years, those fools. What other reason is there for a child to know all the species of African antelope?). I know it's forever unclear what your life would have been had yoh received interventions earlier but as for me they didn't do a lick of good. Nada. I was still a social freak. I even still have a speech impediment even though I was also put into speech therapy.

In short, I understand how you feel and I'm very sorry about it.

 

[last3mos]

Many times in my life, a couple people who were close to be would tell me in moments of anger that, "I'm not special, so stop pretending like I am" specifically in the context of my problems. Usually, people say this if they believe you are being arrogant/ think that you are better than others (which I'm definitely not, this girl right here is an disabled loser with brainrot, literally) but I find when I have expressed frustration about my troubles people either refuse to believe me because my issues are so strange and uncommon, or they're dumbfounded. And this includes so called professionals.

I'm well aware that my issues are uncommon, but they aren't entirely far fetched, I think. Yet, outside of this forum, I've hardly met any people in my life who understand what I'm going through, and this creates an incredibly profound sense of loneliness. I already struggle to relate to the average person not only because I am autistic, but also because enduring so much absurdity in my lifetime further removed me from what I view as the normal human experience.

One of the biggest frustrations throughout my life has been my desire to understand what went wrong in my life, and to remedy those failings. Ever since an early age, my life had been deeply entwined with psychology and psychiatry, as my family thought it would be the key to fixing me. Surprise, surprise, it just made everything worse. All of my physical health problems and traumatic experiences were shrugged off and downplayed for years while I was thrown on every drug cocktail under the sun starting from my early teenage years.

I was supposed to be diagnosed with ASD as a toddler, but it didn't happen until I was a teenager legally capable of making my own private medical decisions, as one of my grandparents decided to deliberately withdraw from the assessment process so that I would not be diagnosed. This meant that I spent my entire childhood being bullied, receiving no proper help, and left to fester with a speech impediment, bizarre behaviours, and developmental delays because I grew up in a poor, rural place where no one even knew what autism was (it was much more rare in the 90s and early 2000s) or believed that girls could have autism.

This experience is not uncommon, especially if you look into the sheer number of autistic adults and teenagers who were diagnosed later in life and struggled due to that delay, but the events that followed were. Having ASD has ensured that a lot of what I say won't ever be taken seriously by many people, because the manner in which I speak, my body language, gait, mannerisms, etc makes others uncomfortable.

Especially if you grew up in a culture like I did where people tend to be loud, fake polite, outwardly expressive with body language, dishonest, and social interactions have multiple levels of mind games and cues you're meant to decipher- I've never been able to mimic those expectations no matter how hard I tried. It's the gift that keeps on giving, because it ruins my credibility too.

My bizarre, autistic behaviour as a child masked the fact that I was molested. It was easier for the adults in my life to believe that I was a brat and acting out, I guess. The second time that I was getting continuously molested as a young teenager, no one believed me because the older guy who was doing these awful things to me was a popular and well liked student at my school. Even though he confessed to molesting me years later, he walked free of any convictions and disciplinary action, whilst I had to spend my entire adolescence being branded as that messed up girl who falsely accused a beloved young man in the community of sexual abuse.

Time and time again in my life I have been taken advantage of and made to feel like a mannequin or doll to be played with rather than a human being. I know that abuse and neglect are sadly not uncommon occurrences in this world, but I feel like I've experienced far more than a lifetime worth of them. For those of you who know what an ACE score is, I clock in at a 9/10. When I go into details about my childhood and young adult life, it has always left therapists speechless and unable to offer any meaningful sentiment. My case is so complex, convoluted, and full of ideosyncracies, that no one has ever been able to help me. And they never will.

It constantly feels like I was dealt a heavy handed punishment since day one, being cursed with the inability to truly relate to anyone. Perhaps, I could cope better if there were one or two central problems in my life, but there is such a complicated entanglement of complaints that simply can't be separated. I have cPTSD that doesn't respond to any treatment, I have autism, I have chronic fatigue, I have a structural defect of the brain, I have tumors and cysts that keep popping up in my ovaries, I have spinal disease, I have no family, I could go on and on. But my point is, there are few people in the same boat as me. Sure, I could find someone who shares one of my issues, but the others would perplex them since those troubles are completely unfamiliar to them.

It is an extremely hollow and soul crushing position to be in, when all you can do is shout into the void. Nothing in mainstream psychiatry or psychology resonates with me in the slightest anymore. Over and over again, I've taken medications that did not work, I've been talked down to and spoken to like a petulant child who knows nothing, I've read books about PTSD that gave insight into why I am how I am but offered no solutions to mend that innate brokenness, I've spoke to therapists who offered harmful and damaging advice or shrugged their shoulders, and it has left me permanently suicidal because I know there's no real help out there for people like me.

The sort of PTSD I have is so niche and under-studied that I highly doubt there will be an effective resolution in my lifetime, for my particular case. Documentation of abuse caused by medic professionals is scant and borderline non existent. As early as 5/6 years old, I was getting UTIs, masturbating, making fucked up "playing doctor" scenarios with my toys, feeling violated constantly, and mortified of any medical environments. You can probably guess why. It has now been almost 20 years and my PTSD is even worse due to the compounding traumatic experiences.

Every bit of conventional wisdom has left me with nothing. Exposure makes it worse. Doctors mock my pain and many of them refuse to even acknowledge that I have PTSD or that they could trigger me even though I have been diagnosed for years, they call it a "little bit of anxiety". They took away the only sedative that helped me if I was forced to be in a medical environment, for absolutely no reason. Supposedly I am an irrational and mentally ill person for being unable to trust them and feeling violated by this profession, when all evidence points in the opposite direction. I have no reason to trust an institution which has ruined my entire life.

I've been told multiple times by healthcare staff things like, I need to be forced to accept penetration, that I need to want sex with partners and am letting trauma rule my life, I should be made to use dilators to make myself accept penetration so I can let them penetrate me against my will (for a test I said no to about 10 times), that I need to be forced to go to exposure therapy and get over it until I am desensitized, that I'm making up my physical health problems, my concerns are just anxiety, I don't need tests I just have boy problems, I am not trying hard enough to get better, everyone else can do this, etc.

Asserting any sort of boundary gets me treated as if I'm an insane malingerer. I've been suffering from chronic pain and poor health for years and these awful doctors and nurses kept gaslighting me and making me think I was lazy and not trying hard enough to improve my situation. Well guess what, my brain is deformed and protruding into my spine! I have horrible dysautonomia symptoms like Raynaud's, brainfog, non stop fatigue, neuropathy etc and everyone told me for years I am just depressed, lazy, and not trying to get my life in order. Nevermind the constant accusations that if I were really sick I would endure any and all pain and humiliation ad nauseum to search for answers, even if there isn't a true evidence based reason, because that's what real sick people do.

Additionally, I have scoliosis, degenerating discs, and inflammatory lesions of the spine likely caused by an autoimmune disease called AS, and the pain gets worse and worse as time drags on, yet they REFUSE to treat me or give me any sort of pain management because the NHS GP doesn't know about any of these rare conditions, typed them into google, shrugged, then told me to just exercise. I begged and pleaded with them, emphasizing I can barely do anything because of how bad I feel everyday, and they don't care. It makes me want to scream. When the pain is bad, it is excruciating, and activity is almost always guaranteed to cause me pain. Of course it would, I have a hole in my spine.

I feel like I'm living in a half-life. My chronic conditions are so bad I spend most of my time in bed, and the rest forced to push myself beyond my limitations. Ever since I had surgery a year ago to remove the tumors I had in my reproductive system, I have been even more of a shell of my former self. Throughout my melancholy, painful childhood, I was always told by therapists that once I turned 18, the world would be my oyster because I would be free to do whatever I wanted, with no more abuse and harassment from my family or my classmates. Yet, it's been the complete opposite. There are so many things I want to do, and CAN'T. It's a new type of existential horror to have the urge to create and yet your mind is this completely hollow and empty thing, unable to conure up anything creative or coherent and your vision permanently swirled, a permanent heaviness all over your body and struggle to stay awake.

When people actually do believe me about my sorry excuse of a life, they look at me with pity rather than empathy. Quite a few people I've been friends with in the past have told me that my life is a horror show and they can't fathom how I manage in the day to day. People just don't know what to say, and no one has answers for me. I would not want to kill myself if there was a way to fix my life, but there simply isn't. I've been down every rabbit hole that exists, including alternative treatments like psychedelics, supplements and herbal stuff, changing up diet, and it doesn't make one ounce of difference because I inherited these tricky, obscure fucking diseases, alongside being constantly neglected and abused until the point I became completely emotionally numb. I don't even know if I'm capable of loving another person romantically ever again.

All I wanted was to be normal, and if that wasn't in the realm of possibility, then maybe whatever evil deity or entropic force out there would be merciful and grant me normal problems, with normal solutions. Instead, I am this completely broken mess of a thing, no longer human yet forced to parade around as if I am. This will be the reason why I ultimately end things in the coming months. Believe me, I did try to make something out of the circumstances I was given. I really did try.

but now all that's left is the bus. There's no way to count the number of times I begged for help, only to realise it doesn't exist for a person like me.

I'm also an autistic person with severe PTSD and a family who badly shitted up my medical records in a way that hid their misdeeds and led to misdiagnoses and the inability to get help.

I was diagnosed autistic in my early 20s. I was misdiagnosed with bipolar and mismedicated for 10 years, and when that didn't make me better, doctors were split between "let's reassess" and "no this person is faking." I learned later my family helped that faking narrative, was pushing it.

I fought hard for a reassessment, including reporting a doctor. Biggest mistake. She really lied in the report. And things got very bad for me, but I got diagnosed with PTSD and my childhood trauma finally made it into my records.

Then I got diagnosed with DID. Not the version you see online, just the kind that is severe PTSD and massive dissociative episodes. The specialist who assessed the trauma and dissociation even put in the notes that it was a genuine case of DID and even acknowledged there was a popular fad of feigning multiple personalities right now and that this was not that, and that DID was not multiple personalities.

But I was treated like I was one of those teenagers changing wigs and costumes online. I was talked down to by doctors for not being able to supply them with names for my "alternate personalities." I dissociate when reminded of things that almost killed me as a child, so severely that I have no memory of the episode, and while I'm in the episode have no memory of outside the episode. There's not more than one of me and I can't give you a list of names and bios. I don't think I turn into a minecraft youtuber.

But if I was faking it online like the teens do, I sure could have gotten all the help and therapists playing along with my multiple personalities. I was told they needed me to tell them these things so they could help me, but my answers weren't what they wanted. And then I was told "plenty of people with DID survive without help." No. The teens faking DID online and the young people who need to roleplay multiple personalities to process things and get therapists to play along survive without help. I did my best to survive, but i was homeless, and will be again, and that's when i'll CTB.

The trauma im carrying means I'll never have peace, the idea of needing medical care and being trapped at the mercy of abusers makes me panic. There's no survival for me now. The medical system is disgusting.

You have fought, and survived, and worked so hard. Im sorry you've faced so much abuse in your life. I don't know if it helps to hear it, but I see the work you've done.

Im sorry that this world doesn't value it, or people like us.

 

[lizzywizzy09]

Many times in my life, a couple people who were close to be would tell me in moments of anger that, "I'm not special, so stop pretending like I am" specifically in the context of my problems. Usually, people say this if they believe you are being arrogant/ think that you are better than others (which I'm definitely not, this girl right here is an disabled loser with brainrot, literally) but I find when I have expressed frustration about my troubles people either refuse to believe me because my issues are so strange and uncommon, or they're dumbfounded. And this includes so called professionals.

I'm well aware that my issues are uncommon, but they aren't entirely far fetched, I think. Yet, outside of this forum, I've hardly met any people in my life who understand what I'm going through, and this creates an incredibly profound sense of loneliness. I already struggle to relate to the average person not only because I am autistic, but also because enduring so much absurdity in my lifetime further removed me from what I view as the normal human experience.

One of the biggest frustrations throughout my life has been my desire to understand what went wrong in my life, and to remedy those failings. Ever since an early age, my life had been deeply entwined with psychology and psychiatry, as my family thought it would be the key to fixing me. Surprise, surprise, it just made everything worse. All of my physical health problems and traumatic experiences were shrugged off and downplayed for years while I was thrown on every drug cocktail under the sun starting from my early teenage years.

I was supposed to be diagnosed with ASD as a toddler, but it didn't happen until I was a teenager legally capable of making my own private medical decisions, as one of my grandparents decided to deliberately withdraw from the assessment process so that I would not be diagnosed. This meant that I spent my entire childhood being bullied, receiving no proper help, and left to fester with a speech impediment, bizarre behaviours, and developmental delays because I grew up in a poor, rural place where no one even knew what autism was (it was much more rare in the 90s and early 2000s) or believed that girls could have autism.

This experience is not uncommon, especially if you look into the sheer number of autistic adults and teenagers who were diagnosed later in life and struggled due to that delay, but the events that followed were. Having ASD has ensured that a lot of what I say won't ever be taken seriously by many people, because the manner in which I speak, my body language, gait, mannerisms, etc makes others uncomfortable.

Especially if you grew up in a culture like I did where people tend to be loud, fake polite, outwardly expressive with body language, dishonest, and social interactions have multiple levels of mind games and cues you're meant to decipher- I've never been able to mimic those expectations no matter how hard I tried. It's the gift that keeps on giving, because it ruins my credibility too.

My bizarre, autistic behaviour as a child masked the fact that I was molested. It was easier for the adults in my life to believe that I was a brat and acting out, I guess. The second time that I was getting continuously molested as a young teenager, no one believed me because the older guy who was doing these awful things to me was a popular and well liked student at my school. Even though he confessed to molesting me years later, he walked free of any convictions and disciplinary action, whilst I had to spend my entire adolescence being branded as that messed up girl who falsely accused a beloved young man in the community of sexual abuse.

Time and time again in my life I have been taken advantage of and made to feel like a mannequin or doll to be played with rather than a human being. I know that abuse and neglect are sadly not uncommon occurrences in this world, but I feel like I've experienced far more than a lifetime worth of them. For those of you who know what an ACE score is, I clock in at a 9/10. When I go into details about my childhood and young adult life, it has always left therapists speechless and unable to offer any meaningful sentiment. My case is so complex, convoluted, and full of ideosyncracies, that no one has ever been able to help me. And they never will.

It constantly feels like I was dealt a heavy handed punishment since day one, being cursed with the inability to truly relate to anyone. Perhaps, I could cope better if there were one or two central problems in my life, but there is such a complicated entanglement of complaints that simply can't be separated. I have cPTSD that doesn't respond to any treatment, I have autism, I have chronic fatigue, I have a structural defect of the brain, I have tumors and cysts that keep popping up in my ovaries, I have spinal disease, I have no family, I could go on and on. But my point is, there are few people in the same boat as me. Sure, I could find someone who shares one of my issues, but the others would perplex them since those troubles are completely unfamiliar to them.

It is an extremely hollow and soul crushing position to be in, when all you can do is shout into the void. Nothing in mainstream psychiatry or psychology resonates with me in the slightest anymore. Over and over again, I've taken medications that did not work, I've been talked down to and spoken to like a petulant child who knows nothing, I've read books about PTSD that gave insight into why I am how I am but offered no solutions to mend that innate brokenness, I've spoke to therapists who offered harmful and damaging advice or shrugged their shoulders, and it has left me permanently suicidal because I know there's no real help out there for people like me.

The sort of PTSD I have is so niche and under-studied that I highly doubt there will be an effective resolution in my lifetime, for my particular case. Documentation of abuse caused by medic professionals is scant and borderline non existent. As early as 5/6 years old, I was getting UTIs, masturbating, making fucked up "playing doctor" scenarios with my toys, feeling violated constantly, and mortified of any medical environments. You can probably guess why. It has now been almost 20 years and my PTSD is even worse due to the compounding traumatic experiences.

Every bit of conventional wisdom has left me with nothing. Exposure makes it worse. Doctors mock my pain and many of them refuse to even acknowledge that I have PTSD or that they could trigger me even though I have been diagnosed for years, they call it a "little bit of anxiety". They took away the only sedative that helped me if I was forced to be in a medical environment, for absolutely no reason. Supposedly I am an irrational and mentally ill person for being unable to trust them and feeling violated by this profession, when all evidence points in the opposite direction. I have no reason to trust an institution which has ruined my entire life.

I've been told multiple times by healthcare staff things like, I need to be forced to accept penetration, that I need to want sex with partners and am letting trauma rule my life, I should be made to use dilators to make myself accept penetration so I can let them penetrate me against my will (for a test I said no to about 10 times), that I need to be forced to go to exposure therapy and get over it until I am desensitized, that I'm making up my physical health problems, my concerns are just anxiety, I don't need tests I just have boy problems, I am not trying hard enough to get better, everyone else can do this, etc.

Asserting any sort of boundary gets me treated as if I'm an insane malingerer. I've been suffering from chronic pain and poor health for years and these awful doctors and nurses kept gaslighting me and making me think I was lazy and not trying hard enough to improve my situation. Well guess what, my brain is deformed and protruding into my spine! I have horrible dysautonomia symptoms like Raynaud's, brainfog, non stop fatigue, neuropathy etc and everyone told me for years I am just depressed, lazy, and not trying to get my life in order. Nevermind the constant accusations that if I were really sick I would endure any and all pain and humiliation ad nauseum to search for answers, even if there isn't a true evidence based reason, because that's what real sick people do.

Additionally, I have scoliosis, degenerating discs, and inflammatory lesions of the spine likely caused by an autoimmune disease called AS, and the pain gets worse and worse as time drags on, yet they REFUSE to treat me or give me any sort of pain management because the NHS GP doesn't know about any of these rare conditions, typed them into google, shrugged, then told me to just exercise. I begged and pleaded with them, emphasizing I can barely do anything because of how bad I feel everyday, and they don't care. It makes me want to scream. When the pain is bad, it is excruciating, and activity is almost always guaranteed to cause me pain. Of course it would, I have a hole in my spine.

I feel like I'm living in a half-life. My chronic conditions are so bad I spend most of my time in bed, and the rest forced to push myself beyond my limitations. Ever since I had surgery a year ago to remove the tumors I had in my reproductive system, I have been even more of a shell of my former self. Throughout my melancholy, painful childhood, I was always told by therapists that once I turned 18, the world would be my oyster because I would be free to do whatever I wanted, with no more abuse and harassment from my family or my classmates. Yet, it's been the complete opposite. There are so many things I want to do, and CAN'T. It's a new type of existential horror to have the urge to create and yet your mind is this completely hollow and empty thing, unable to conure up anything creative or coherent and your vision permanently swirled, a permanent heaviness all over your body and struggle to stay awake.

When people actually do believe me about my sorry excuse of a life, they look at me with pity rather than empathy. Quite a few people I've been friends with in the past have told me that my life is a horror show and they can't fathom how I manage in the day to day. People just don't know what to say, and no one has answers for me. I would not want to kill myself if there was a way to fix my life, but there simply isn't. I've been down every rabbit hole that exists, including alternative treatments like psychedelics, supplements and herbal stuff, changing up diet, and it doesn't make one ounce of difference because I inherited these tricky, obscure fucking diseases, alongside being constantly neglected and abused until the point I became completely emotionally numb. I don't even know if I'm capable of loving another person romantically ever again.

All I wanted was to be normal, and if that wasn't in the realm of possibility, then maybe whatever evil deity or entropic force out there would be merciful and grant me normal problems, with normal solutions. Instead, I am this completely broken mess of a thing, no longer human yet forced to parade around as if I am. This will be the reason why I ultimately end things in the coming months. Believe me, I did try to make something out of the circumstances I was given. I really did try.

but now all that's left is the bus. There's no way to count the number of times I begged for help, only to realise it doesn't exist for a person like me.

Oh sweetie, I can relate to this a whole lot. Undiagnosed autism delaying treatment for medical conditions. The bullying, the trauma, the niche and rare issues that make you feel like you're not even human... It fucking sucks, I know, and I truly hope we both get peace. My inbox is always open.

 

[Manfrotto99]

I wish I could say something helpful but it sounds like your circumstances in life have allowed people to take advantage of you and led you from one misfortune to another. My life has been similar but possibly not as extreme. People show greater empathy to those they think are deserving of it and who they think can be helped. Ie the young attractive puppy will get rehomed while the ugly old dog is left to die. If your seen as beyond help then people dont want to waste time on you, they see you as gullible and weak and will try to take advantage and abuse you or even worse they will see you as a threat to their existence and "just world philosophy" and will project their fear of hopelessness that they see in you, that you confront them with, back at you and accuse you of all kinds of negative things, leaving you alone and rejected, reinforcing your miserable existence and sense of hopelessness. Sickness and despair is likey to follow. It's an entrapment that despite the differences in experiences, I like you unfortunately know too well.

 

[bananemitmilch]

Many times in my life, a couple people who were close to be would tell me in moments of anger that, "I'm not special, so stop pretending like I am" specifically in the context of my problems. Usually, people say this if they believe you are being arrogant/ think that you are better than others (which I'm definitely not, this girl right here is an disabled loser with brainrot, literally) but I find when I have expressed frustration about my troubles people either refuse to believe me because my issues are so strange and uncommon, or they're dumbfounded. And this includes so called professionals.

I'm well aware that my issues are uncommon, but they aren't entirely far fetched, I think. Yet, outside of this forum, I've hardly met any people in my life who understand what I'm going through, and this creates an incredibly profound sense of loneliness. I already struggle to relate to the average person not only because I am autistic, but also because enduring so much absurdity in my lifetime further removed me from what I view as the normal human experience.

One of the biggest frustrations throughout my life has been my desire to understand what went wrong in my life, and to remedy those failings. Ever since an early age, my life had been deeply entwined with psychology and psychiatry, as my family thought it would be the key to fixing me. Surprise, surprise, it just made everything worse. All of my physical health problems and traumatic experiences were shrugged off and downplayed for years while I was thrown on every drug cocktail under the sun starting from my early teenage years.

I was supposed to be diagnosed with ASD as a toddler, but it didn't happen until I was a teenager legally capable of making my own private medical decisions, as one of my grandparents decided to deliberately withdraw from the assessment process so that I would not be diagnosed. This meant that I spent my entire childhood being bullied, receiving no proper help, and left to fester with a speech impediment, bizarre behaviours, and developmental delays because I grew up in a poor, rural place where no one even knew what autism was (it was much more rare in the 90s and early 2000s) or believed that girls could have autism.

This experience is not uncommon, especially if you look into the sheer number of autistic adults and teenagers who were diagnosed later in life and struggled due to that delay, but the events that followed were. Having ASD has ensured that a lot of what I say won't ever be taken seriously by many people, because the manner in which I speak, my body language, gait, mannerisms, etc makes others uncomfortable.

Especially if you grew up in a culture like I did where people tend to be loud, fake polite, outwardly expressive with body language, dishonest, and social interactions have multiple levels of mind games and cues you're meant to decipher- I've never been able to mimic those expectations no matter how hard I tried. It's the gift that keeps on giving, because it ruins my credibility too.

My bizarre, autistic behaviour as a child masked the fact that I was molested. It was easier for the adults in my life to believe that I was a brat and acting out, I guess. The second time that I was getting continuously molested as a young teenager, no one believed me because the older guy who was doing these awful things to me was a popular and well liked student at my school. Even though he confessed to molesting me years later, he walked free of any convictions and disciplinary action, whilst I had to spend my entire adolescence being branded as that messed up girl who falsely accused a beloved young man in the community of sexual abuse.

Time and time again in my life I have been taken advantage of and made to feel like a mannequin or doll to be played with rather than a human being. I know that abuse and neglect are sadly not uncommon occurrences in this world, but I feel like I've experienced far more than a lifetime worth of them. For those of you who know what an ACE score is, I clock in at a 9/10. When I go into details about my childhood and young adult life, it has always left therapists speechless and unable to offer any meaningful sentiment. My case is so complex, convoluted, and full of ideosyncracies, that no one has ever been able to help me. And they never will.

It constantly feels like I was dealt a heavy handed punishment since day one, being cursed with the inability to truly relate to anyone. Perhaps, I could cope better if there were one or two central problems in my life, but there is such a complicated entanglement of complaints that simply can't be separated. I have cPTSD that doesn't respond to any treatment, I have autism, I have chronic fatigue, I have a structural defect of the brain, I have tumors and cysts that keep popping up in my ovaries, I have spinal disease, I have no family, I could go on and on. But my point is, there are few people in the same boat as me. Sure, I could find someone who shares one of my issues, but the others would perplex them since those troubles are completely unfamiliar to them.

It is an extremely hollow and soul crushing position to be in, when all you can do is shout into the void. Nothing in mainstream psychiatry or psychology resonates with me in the slightest anymore. Over and over again, I've taken medications that did not work, I've been talked down to and spoken to like a petulant child who knows nothing, I've read books about PTSD that gave insight into why I am how I am but offered no solutions to mend that innate brokenness, I've spoke to therapists who offered harmful and damaging advice or shrugged their shoulders, and it has left me permanently suicidal because I know there's no real help out there for people like me.

The sort of PTSD I have is so niche and under-studied that I highly doubt there will be an effective resolution in my lifetime, for my particular case. Documentation of abuse caused by medic professionals is scant and borderline non existent. As early as 5/6 years old, I was getting UTIs, masturbating, making fucked up "playing doctor" scenarios with my toys, feeling violated constantly, and mortified of any medical environments. You can probably guess why. It has now been almost 20 years and my PTSD is even worse due to the compounding traumatic experiences.

Every bit of conventional wisdom has left me with nothing. Exposure makes it worse. Doctors mock my pain and many of them refuse to even acknowledge that I have PTSD or that they could trigger me even though I have been diagnosed for years, they call it a "little bit of anxiety". They took away the only sedative that helped me if I was forced to be in a medical environment, for absolutely no reason. Supposedly I am an irrational and mentally ill person for being unable to trust them and feeling violated by this profession, when all evidence points in the opposite direction. I have no reason to trust an institution which has ruined my entire life.

I've been told multiple times by healthcare staff things like, I need to be forced to accept penetration, that I need to want sex with partners and am letting trauma rule my life, I should be made to use dilators to make myself accept penetration so I can let them penetrate me against my will (for a test I said no to about 10 times), that I need to be forced to go to exposure therapy and get over it until I am desensitized, that I'm making up my physical health problems, my concerns are just anxiety, I don't need tests I just have boy problems, I am not trying hard enough to get better, everyone else can do this, etc.

Asserting any sort of boundary gets me treated as if I'm an insane malingerer. I've been suffering from chronic pain and poor health for years and these awful doctors and nurses kept gaslighting me and making me think I was lazy and not trying hard enough to improve my situation. Well guess what, my brain is deformed and protruding into my spine! I have horrible dysautonomia symptoms like Raynaud's, brainfog, non stop fatigue, neuropathy etc and everyone told me for years I am just depressed, lazy, and not trying to get my life in order. Nevermind the constant accusations that if I were really sick I would endure any and all pain and humiliation ad nauseum to search for answers, even if there isn't a true evidence based reason, because that's what real sick people do.

Additionally, I have scoliosis, degenerating discs, and inflammatory lesions of the spine likely caused by an autoimmune disease called AS, and the pain gets worse and worse as time drags on, yet they REFUSE to treat me or give me any sort of pain management because the NHS GP doesn't know about any of these rare conditions, typed them into google, shrugged, then told me to just exercise. I begged and pleaded with them, emphasizing I can barely do anything because of how bad I feel everyday, and they don't care. It makes me want to scream. When the pain is bad, it is excruciating, and activity is almost always guaranteed to cause me pain. Of course it would, I have a hole in my spine.

I feel like I'm living in a half-life. My chronic conditions are so bad I spend most of my time in bed, and the rest forced to push myself beyond my limitations. Ever since I had surgery a year ago to remove the tumors I had in my reproductive system, I have been even more of a shell of my former self. Throughout my melancholy, painful childhood, I was always told by therapists that once I turned 18, the world would be my oyster because I would be free to do whatever I wanted, with no more abuse and harassment from my family or my classmates. Yet, it's been the complete opposite. There are so many things I want to do, and CAN'T. It's a new type of existential horror to have the urge to create and yet your mind is this completely hollow and empty thing, unable to conure up anything creative or coherent and your vision permanently swirled, a permanent heaviness all over your body and struggle to stay awake.

When people actually do believe me about my sorry excuse of a life, they look at me with pity rather than empathy. Quite a few people I've been friends with in the past have told me that my life is a horror show and they can't fathom how I manage in the day to day. People just don't know what to say, and no one has answers for me. I would not want to kill myself if there was a way to fix my life, but there simply isn't. I've been down every rabbit hole that exists, including alternative treatments like psychedelics, supplements and herbal stuff, changing up diet, and it doesn't make one ounce of difference because I inherited these tricky, obscure fucking diseases, alongside being constantly neglected and abused until the point I became completely emotionally numb. I don't even know if I'm capable of loving another person romantically ever again.

All I wanted was to be normal, and if that wasn't in the realm of possibility, then maybe whatever evil deity or entropic force out there would be merciful and grant me normal problems, with normal solutions. Instead, I am this completely broken mess of a thing, no longer human yet forced to parade around as if I am. This will be the reason why I ultimately end things in the coming months. Believe me, I did try to make something out of the circumstances I was given. I really did try.

but now all that's left is the bus. There's no way to count the number of times I begged for help, only to realise it doesn't exist for a person like me.

I do somewhat understand you, I'm trans which is already an issue about 1% of people have. Then again I was abused as a kid and I have a very strange relationship with my abuser, since i see them almost every day of my life and he genuinely doesn't seem to remember what he did.

It often feels like as soon as I change one thing, twenty other things hit me to rock bottom and I lose all my progress, making it essentially impossible for me to change.

Im sorry for you and I hope there is someone out there that you can find to help you (not a therapist screw them).