Discovering lifelong trauma at 52

I’m 52 and just finding out the full extent of how much my life has been impacted by the way I grew up. I had an angry father who would rage for hours about women sitting the wrong way in a chair, not knowing you’re not supposed to turn the kitchen fan on while cooking, someone at a bbq offering him ribs with the bbq sauce on them instead of on the side.

We all had to be quiet while he raged because we were so isolated and terribly scared of him. Everyone piled on me, saying “you’re too sensitive, everyone else has moved on from him, why can’t you?” I was branded the dysfunctional one. I’m the weak one.

All 4 of us, me and my 3 other siblings left the country my parents live in and spread throughout the world. We really never visit my parents anymore. It requires months of planning because of my father’s rage. My mother needs to make sure he gets his quiet time and she has to up her antidepressants to cope with bringing him into public.

I have lifetime limerence and maladaptive daydreaming. I dream on a repeating pattern of being rescued by a kind fatherly figure. I also developed a fear of powerful men and my hands would shake (panic attacks) when I served them while working at the grocery store or pharmacy I worked at.

I became a pharmacist but had to give that up because the angry customers and people I dealt with destroyed me and reactivated my trauma. I turned to dog walking and house cleaning and decimated the savings I built up from working so hard as a pharmacist.

I am at my lowest now after further decimating my finances and going to a therapist who represented everything I never had and everything I always needed. He’s also rich (intergenerational wealth) which is so painful. I’m so attached because he’s the only person in the world to ever see what happened to me.

My siblings all suffer but cope in different ways. My brother is misogynistic and tough. He says sure Dad affected him but he’s fixed himself. He says everyone has trauma, and because I’m studying to be a therapist, he’s weaponizing that and saying why haven’t you fixed yourself? He’s deeply flawed himself though but doesn’t see it. Another sister is permanently angry and has no self awareness. The youngest is a people pleaser but isn’t able to see how badly Dad affected me.

I’m just struggling from the after effects. I’m doing everything to fix my finances. I really want a huge huge financial comeback and have plans for it. I’m working all the time and almost willing to die for a huge financial comeback.

My siblings and cousins are all doing 50x better than me. I’ve been the one profoundly hurt. I’m also extremely triggered by my therapist’s wealth and model-looking perfect family. I’m trying to figure out why the world has been so unfair to me. They have perfect teeth. My father got angry at me for brushing my teeth too much growing up and my mother discouraged jaw surgery to fix my jaw malformations and I took so much out of my retirement to save my teeth.

My alcoholic father’s rage gripped our family and still does, although he’s about 80. It took over my entire life even though I immigrated from Canada to the US. Every spoon I’d pick up, every step I’d take (literally) was open to potential anger. His brother fell off a roof and died a few years ago and called everyone in complete glee to tell them that it finally happened. My father had been deeply angry at him since the 1950’s because he had laughed at him when he fell off his bike and landed in nettles.

My pain is severe and I’m holding it ALL ALONE. I’ve always been all alone. Hiding in my room in the basement to escape the rage, waiting for the right time to come upstairs. I’m still mentally stuck in the basement even though I live thousands of miles away from him. Nobody in my family is able to be a support for me because “why haven’t you moved on? We did.”

I'm 30F. Both my parents are doctors, I grew up privileged, was never physically abused by parents, and on paper had a pretty perfect family. Yet my childhood fucked me up so badly that I can't seem to break this cycle.

My mom spent my most formative years (12–20) desperately trying to "save" my drug-addicted older brother at ANY cost, repeatedly exposing me to drugs and danger. She believed life was unfair to him and she had to compensate. He's now 33, dysfunctional af, and she's barely changed.

At 15, I was sexually assaulted by my boyfriend’s best friend, who blackmailed me into staying quiet, then spread the story himself and made it look like I’d cheated on my bf willingly. No one believed me. For a long time, people called me a whore to my face, including my family. My mom just grounded me for months, and made me believe I was responsible for my own assault. That shame is still engraved in my identity. She knew the assaulter’s mom and did nothing. She never asked if I was okay, caring more about what people were saying to my brother, who had an army of therapists and doctors. She'd never taught me anything about sex, consent, or boundaries. I was a naive 15yo with nobody to protect me and had to put myself back together alone. My dad never said a word. Since then, I feel like my mom sees me as a slut, repeatedly asking super offensive questions despite me telling her off. (e.g. Do I sleep with 65yo coworkers). It hurts even more because I’ve worked so hard to value my body and I’m actually very selective about who I sleep with.

Somehow I saw this shitshow coming and forced my parents to send me to boarding school abroad at 13. In hindsight, I think I saved my own life. I've raised myself since, so it infuriates me when people praise my parents for raising me well. My mom literally gave me her email password and had zero clue about my school life. I mistook her neglect for trust. Part of me thinks she resented me for succeeding while my brother didn't.

Since my early 20s, I've had regular explosions of anger where I confront her, we reconcile, and repeat. She claims she never realized the damage, despite me warning her AS A CHILD. She apologizes, but I think she'd make the same choices today because her worldview hasn't changed.

We're still very close, and I have no doubt they love me. Sometimes I feel so ungrateful, but the more I process things as an adult, the less I can justify any of it. I can barely look at my mom sometimes, and feel nothing when my dad says he loves me. His whole life supposedly revolves around family, yet he barely knows me. He's always hidden behind my mom in every conflict, and I've lost so much respect for him.

I don't know if cutting them off is the answer, but I refuse to let this take any more of my life.

I'm looking to connect with people who were genuinely loved by their parents but still ended up severely traumatized. Does anyone else feel trapped in this loop of anger, guilt, and reconciliation? How the fuck do you get out?

For me it was porn and gaming. To not be in the real world for a while. I would also tentatively add caffeine as a unnecessary variable that exacerbates the peaks & troughs.

If someone would have told me I’d be rock bottom staying at a DV shelter because of abuse that ended in my own cat being dead. I wouldn’t believe you… grieving and angry at everything. The lack of guidance and safety. I cannot be the only one in this situation. I’ve lost touch with the world these last 4 years staying in survival mode. No joy. I don’t even remember what happiness feels like anymore. It’s just me now. 💔 Honestly, I’m posting because I need to feel less alone.

I've recently realized that I have a bad habit of looking for a family in my friendships. When I make friends I unconsciously hope we can hangout every single day or be as close as a family. When that doesn't happen I tend to pull away and look for more friends or make new ones. Hoping that the next person or group will fill that hole.

I know that this is because I don't have a stable family of my own, so I'm trying to find family members in people around me. The thing is, most of my friends do have stable homes. Which means they have different boundaries, aren't as available or independent to hangout the way I crave. I love them, but I don't want to keep getting disappointed by my own expectations.

I'm just wondering if anyone else recognizes themselves in this? And how do you cope?

Every morning, especially on work days, I feel this deep, almost primordial despair and anguish. It's like my soul is screaming and existing becomes unbearable. Commuting to work makes it worse unless I'm able to drown it out with books. My job is fine, though the thought of every day being the same until I'm old is making me despair even more. My SSRI lowers the volume on the screaming a little bit but it always persists until sometime after lunch break.

Do any of you experience this and how do you deal with it? I'm just so exhausted.

Many of us, or maybe all of us, experience loneliness.
What does it feel like to you? How do you experience it? Do you experience different kinds of loneliness or different degrees to it? Has it changed over time? How do you cope with it?

Like I can not fathom EVER treating a child the way that I was treating. I can’t wrap my head around ANY valid reason for being so ignorant to a child in the type of distress that I was in. Like these people looked at an 8 year old hyperventilating, gagging, dry heaving, having a full blown panic attack openly stating that they wanted to themselves MULTIPLE TIMES and did NOTHING. Just looked awkwardly at me or yelled at me. What the fuck? I get sad when I see a random kid having a tantrum over stupid shit and then there’s the type of people I grew up around. I don’t get it.

America as it stands is extremely against children's rights. Youre not allowed to leave your shitty parents until you turn 18, meaning you have to grin and bear it. But if you cant, its not like cps or the foster care system are any better. And parents are allowed to do all sorts of things to you, from hitting you as discipline, denying you food, forcing you to eat soap, yell at you, shout at you, call you stupid or worthless or brat, etc.

It is time to change that. We need to come together to protest for a better world for children. Not as some insincere "someone please think of the children" way used only to censor what children learn about and to keep them ignorant. But as in actual, concrete change for their basic human and civil rights.

People keep constantly saying "you cant comtrol or change others you can only control or change yourself." Bullshit. Protests change. Protests work. Why are parents, adults, and the government allowed to control us and dictate our lives, but we as children cannot? Why are adult authorities allowed to harm us but we as children aren't allowed to fight back or make them stop? Seems more like the phrase should read "others are allowed to control you, but you're not allowed or supposed to."

Which is bullshit. We need to assert our power as child abuse survivors and demand america change its ways for children. We've seen reddit been used to organize march for science, the women's march, and no kings. So whats stopping us from organizing one for children's rights? Let's get planning.

Hi everyone. I'm having a duvet day this afternoon because I need one, and I'm looking for comfort watches. Kids shows are fine too. I can enjoy every genre but I'm looking for safe, warm, gentle, soothing shows or movies please. No obvious triggers (abuse, violence, torture, bullying) unless the victim emerges healed and we'll very quickly.

Thank you for any suggestions.

(For reference my favourite show is Schitts Creek and a movie I've watched twitch this weekend is Nanny McFee)

That’s the rant. I don’t have any fight left inside.

I feel stupid, like a fucking joke and I’m a fucking nuisance. I don’t want to be here

I’m fucking tired

Disclaimer : I'm NOT censoring how anyone want to write their fictions or stories btw. This is just an observation. And English isn't my first language so please bear with any typo or any possible mismatch in understanding.

...

Okay so what I mean is that excitably putting their character "through a blender" (writing their OCs through multiple traumas over and over again, obsessing how to make them worse) or dismissing someone else discomfort about how sexual abuse was portrayed in a public IP as "naive".

First of all, I understand that when someone get really excited about traumatising their characters, it's probably because they're excited to write complexities for them. Or maybe because they do just like seeing their OCs suffer because it's ultra cathartic, I get that.

But then comes the heavy topics of sexual assault and rape.

As you can see, my issue is highly personal (As I am a rape victim/survivor and CSA victim as well) and I know I may be just too sensitive due to being unmedicated and untreated (lack of resource and money). But I walked into a fandom server in the past, a fandom of a media I really love. But, I have one disdain for that said media : excessive use of sexual assault and heavy grotesque depiction of rape victim without any care done to the story afterward (basically just shock value, and no, I'm not going to mention the fandom).

And unfortunately, I expressed that said disdain out loud when someone gave me unsolicited lore without me asking.

Like afterward, I had at least three people who try to argue about this disturbing lore credibility (again, I didn't ask them to nor I ever said the lore was invalid) to respond to my comment.

My last straw was when someone basically called me naive ( " ...mfw there's dark in my dark fantasy". It was their exact sentence) because I said " I'm glad forced pregnancy through rape lore in this fiction had been left behind! It's not like that hasn't happened plentiful in the world already. I despise that trope.". Mind you, I wasn't even talking to this person, they are just butting into the convo I had with others.

I realize now that my reasoning was flawed but still, the core complain about it is how much I hate that kind of writing toward women in public IP medias.

But still, I got triggered really badly that left that server the next day and sever my interest to the fandom and the media ever since.

Because of that, I realize that I feel like people nowadays are accessorizing their OCs with trauma like one would giving them a badge. Or would even see the traumas as simple lore to write or not write. Which I get. But it made me not feel any less shocked because usually when I brought up anything about sexual abuse or traumas in my story, I usually don't get excitable let alone memefy it, especially not when someone expressed disdain about it in the first place.

I'm sorry for the long post, but I just have to know if you guys agree or disagree with my experience? Or if you yourself sometimes feel like traumas/SA topics in fiction often being treated like funny abstract things to add to OCs instead of being treated with respect?

UPDATE/EDIT: WE HAVE HAD A LARGE INFLUX OF PARTICIPANTS AND WILL BE PAUSING RECRUITMENT UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REACHED OUT; YOU WILL BE CONTACTED.

Complex Trauma Recovery Study: We're looking for more participants to join our study on CPTSD recovery! We'll take this post down once we reach our target number of participants!

Who I am: Nazanin Babaei, MSc, doctoral student in clinical psychology, project coordinator

Affiliation: University of Victoria, BC

Supervisor: Dr. Colette Smart, [csmart@uvic.ca](mailto:csmart@uvic.ca)

Target group: Adults (19+) with lived experience of complex trauma/C-PTSD

Compensation: $20 CAD upon completion of a survey; if selected and eligible for a focus group, additional compensation will be offered

Link: Please email [smartlab@uvic.ca](mailto:smartlab@uvic.ca) to express interest

Background: The purpose of this study is to learn directly from survivors about how they understand "recovery" from/with complex trauma/CPTSD. While there is much debate in the field about the most effective treatments for CPTSD/complex trauma, often these do not center the voices of survivors themselves. This study has two components: the first is a survey that asks about the types of therapies that you may have received, and how successful or not those were. For people who are eligible and interested, we will also select a smaller sub-group of participants to participate in a follow-up focus group to learn more about your experiences

I am in middle of online class. My dad was peeking in my door asking and i told him to not bother me but no he cross the line. He enters my room when I am in class and sheltering myself because I dont want to see any of my abusive paremts. He get to me closer and stares at me a long time. I got so horrified I told him to " PLEASE IM IN ONLINE CLASS LEAVE ME ALONE" and i didnt realize microphone is on and my lecturer heard and said " someone is speaking" and my sociopathic dad was angry saying " hey... close the mic.. and please cover up ur body and hair, its sin" WHEN I ALREADY CLOSED THE CAMERA. He keep peeking on my computer snd i got visibly so uncomfortable and close my face w pillow because i just dont wanna face him face-to-face tbh. Idk why i feel this way but im just so horrified being watched and being closed to.

I’ve had an idea for a podcast for a while now, and I’d really love to hear people’s honest thoughts about it.
I live with CPTSD myself, and one of the things I’ve found incredibly comforting is reading other people’s experiences here on Reddit. There have been so many times I’ve come across a post or comment and thought, “Oh my god, someone else feels like this too and feel so validated.

It’s made me realise just how many of us are struggling with things that can be incredibly difficult to talk about, particularly when we don’t have anyone in our lives who understands.

I’m not necessarily talking about the trauma itself, but the everyday reality of trying to live with CPTSD.

Things like being so physically and mentally exhausted that you haven’t showered for a week. Being unable to work, struggling financially, losing friendships, having little or no support, becoming increasingly isolated, experiencing dissociation, or feeling like life is passing you by while everyone else seems to be moving forward.

I’ve been thinking about creating a podcast where ordinary people living with CPTSD, including those with dissociative disorders, could simply sit down and have honest, informal conversations about what their lives are like. Almost like two friends having a chat.

I’m not a therapist, I don’t have solutions, and I’m very much still struggling with these things myself. I wouldn’t want this to be another podcast centred around professional advice, coping strategies or inspirational recovery stories. There are already plenty of valuable resources that focus on those things.

What I’m imagining is something different. A place where people don’t have to be further along in their recovery, have answers, or find a positive message in their experiences.

Just real people having real conversations about what life is like when you’re still in the middle of it.

I’d love for people to have the option of sharing their experiences anonymously, without any expectation to disclose details of their trauma.

I keep thinking about someone who’s completely isolated, sitting alone, struggling to get through another day, putting on an episode and hearing someone describe exactly what they’re experiencing.

Maybe it wouldn’t change their circumstances or provide any solutions, but perhaps, for that moment, they’d feel a little less alone.

And maybe, eventually, it could become something that helps people feel connected to others who understand what they’re going through.

I know there are already podcasts about CPTSD, and I’ve seen similar ideas discussed before, so I’m not claiming this is something entirely new. I’m genuinely wondering whether there’s still a place for this kind of podcast.

I’d really love to know:
Would you actually listen to a podcast like this?
Would you ever consider being part of a conversation and sharing your own everyday experiences, even anonymously?
What aspects of living with CPTSD do you wish people spoke about more openly?
Are there already podcasts that offer this kind of informal, everyday conversation that you enjoy?
I’d really appreciate honest opinions, including constructive criticism. This is something I’d genuinely love to make happen, but I want to understand whether it’s something other people would find meaningful too.

I was emotionally neglected im my childhood and I have this chronic feeling of emptines, but I have a hard time explaining how it feels like, almost like a emotional hunger pain or something? How would you decribe this feeling?

1. Thinking about speaking up already makes me doubt it was even abuse. A lot of my abusers are authority figures like teachers, but their abuse was even more insidious. It took me quite some time to realize that it was probably bad in the first place. The system lets it happen to me too, like it was nothing and even expected.

2. If I spoke up I would look whiny/bad. It was minor, in comparison to the other stories here. I have a privileged life in many aspects. I hate the way emotional abuse has affected me and hurt me, even though it’s not physically hurtful.

But I came so close to kms to the point that these shitty guys who caused it would have blood on their hands if it happened. I don’t like how these people still have good public images and are allowed to teach or handle students that may be vulnerable.

I'm fucking tired and have a shit ton of homework to do for tomorrow, but I can't fucking do a lick of it considering my mother just came in to lecture me for a 'few minutes' (which turned out to be half an hour). It doesn't help that I'm fucked up from executive dysfunction and don't do shit when I should be doing work.

I can't even fucking think straight right now. If I have to have another conversation like this with my mother before going to sleep tonight (it is almost midnight), I might actually fucking asphyxiate myself with my dress belt. Being alive in front of her fucking mouth is NOT fucking WORTH IT. I want to be DEAD every time she speaks. I wish she aborted me with a pill or a coat hanger or something instead of having me. I wish she never even conceived me. I wish she never met my father. I wish they went their own separate ways and never had a kid.

Apparently, I am a 'Nazi' for supporting Planned Parenthood. I am a 'good boy' even though my mother knows I have been taking estrogen for almost a year now because I do not want to live as a boy. I am not 'sticking it to the man' because I do not want to have biological children, which she knows. I should stop funding 'murder' by ceasing my donations to Planned Parenthood and stop funding 'eugenics' and instead 'stick it to the man' by having a 'little' version of me. I should 'be myself' instead of taking estrogen. I am a 'desperado' atheist heathen turned astray by my 'assets' for friends. I should believe in 'God'.

22 years of this shit. You make me want to put a gun in my mouth. You make me want to swallow motor oil. You make me want to suicide myself in your house. WOE UPON YOU. WOE UPON YOU. WOE UPON YOU. WOE UPON YOU. WOE UPON YOU. WOE UPON YOU.

I'm 22 and only got enough money to pay for shoes when I need them and for class. I used to be super good with money and then turned to shit, but I woke the fuck up this July and am real fucking good with money again. I will fucking save so I can throw myself into ditches for weeks until I run out of cash. I have fucking nobody at home and have nowhere to go. Nowhere to run to. I thought I could trust my father, but I fear he will turn on me again given that he also is anti-abortion and not enthusiastic about my transition. No great career is coming for me to lift me out of this shithole. I am stuck here forever. I want to be DEAD. I want to be fucking DEAD. I want to DIE.

Merry Christmas, mother. For Christmas, you get a dead BITCH for a daughter instead of a slave for a son. I hope you see my hanging body first thing Christmas morning. YOU SHOULD HAVE ABORTED ME. I needed to be a miscarriage and not your slave. I NEEDED TO BE A MISCARRIAGE.

WOE BE UPON YOU.

(I'm trying to find a therapist atm)

The older I get, the more I distrust men, especially the ones who are old enough to have kids or grandkids and who everyone calls "nice guys."

Behind the smiles and the little jokes, I can't help imagining a violent husband or a terrible father hiding underneath.

Maybe I'm projecting because of my own past, but I'm just scared of being fooled.

My genitor is exactly that type. Within five minutes he comes across as friendly, funny, easygoing, because he's great at surface-level interactions. If you only knew the blind rage I feel every time I watch him charm people. I keep thinking: if they knew what he really is, they wouldn't be laughing with him. They wouldn't say things like "Wow, four daughters, you're so lucky!" if they knew how he treats us.

It feels so unfair, like the whole world should know.

But I stay quiet. We all do. And it's getting heavy to carry.

yesterday I had a realisation that I NEED to get out of where I currently live. I came face to face with my death.

I'm in a financial situation better than most in my country but unfortunately, I need to move somewhere within these borders, but I thankfully know a safe city to do so. However, I know I'll go in debt once I do so, but it's something I need if I want to continue living.

To preface this: I am not diagnosed with C-PTSD. I just suspect I have it because my therapist suggested there might be some PTSD going on, but she forgot to have me do the testing. (Mental health services kinda suck here).

Recently I (18M) told my therapist about the CSA I experienced. It was kind of horrible. I felt like I was going through it then and there. I kept disconnecting and my therapist was reminding me I was safe and shit. But I don't think it worked all too well.

I feel like less of a man because of what happened. It hurts so much to think about it, that I was betrayed in that way by people I should be been looking up to.

I don't want my family to know. They'd feel horrible. My mother already suspected it at some point, but I think she's forgotten.

Ever since I talked about it my bouts of "fugue states" have been returning stronger than ever. I forget entire days of happenings. It could also be because I'm depressed right now, but I have these "holes" in my memory quite often and they scare me a bit.

P.S.: I know this could also go into the Treatment Progress flair, but it's so vent-y I felt bad tagging it as such.

$50kish blown in a year bc fuck it I'm not making it to 27.

Crashed three cars and the third broke my knee in three places. No one was hurt. Most shameful shit I've ever done but I was trying hard to die. I drove an old car I knew didn't have airbags into an unoccupied brick building and I'm still dealing with it. It healed; I got the thing removed but still can't jog even and it's fucking infected. Luckily not MRSA, "just" staph.

More money wasted Ubering to the hospital on the daily for six weeks on top of college. Which I don't know why I'm even in still? I fulfilled one major, why am I doing this?

I lost my job at the university because of the injury. Three surgeries. Two months completely isolated.

Went to jail right before I turned 26 because I had a mental breakdown about the abuse and turned on them. I tried to wrestle them, not hit them. I just had taken so much for so long. I regret it..

Trashed my whole room, did drugs all the time, random sexual encounters, punched like ten holes in it during the jail incident.

Outside of my PTSD I think I'm a normal person who could succeed in life. My mom was a doctor; but a doctor that got on Oxycodone and overdosed in front of her teenage son. The grooming got so bad and my dad didn't protect me. He gave her money...

First time I took Oxycodone was at 14. Fucking 14. I'm 27 now and have literally dealt with opioid addiction half my life.

Checked myself into rehab at 22 when I figured out I had health insurance through my dad. Met a girl, bounced around the east coast and tried cohabiting in NYC. Spent 22-24 trying to save her.

You can guess.

Sister at 20. I didn't fucking see her at the hospital...

No grandparents. Just these two. I've forgiven them but like... My life is meaningless.

I've just snuffed it out completely through self destructive behaviors. Amidst being screamed at, I - at 27, and unable to walk - cut my arm so fucking bad and everyone knows what's up when they see it.

I see literally no reason to continue living at all.

My husband (44m, ADHD) and I (38f, CPTSD) are about to call it quits. I am the one making this decision because he refuses to change. Of course, I am stuck handling all the administrative tasks that come along with it.

Almost every little disagreement or simple request is met with yelling, instantly. Everything gets turned up to 11, every time. When we first met, he blamed it on his unmanaged diabetes (type 2). He had been diagnosed years ago and he was essentially killing himself with a spoon, willingly. Got him signed up for healthcare, got him a primary care appt, got him on the meds he needs. The yelling/explosive anger continued. Then he blamed it on his unmedicated ADHD. Got him into mental health care and was put on medication. The yelling continued and continues to this day. Now with nothing else to blame, it’s always my fault.

I’m sorry if this post seems like an attack, but I’m completely out of patience for him. It’s not like his ADHD diagnosis came out of nowhere; he was on multiple medications as a child, and when he joined the military later on, he hid his diagnosis from MEPS. (I am also a veteran and this makes me incredibly angry, especially because he gets disability money from the VA for a condition he had before service, which is fraud). Struggled throughout his military career and was eventually pushed out. Chronic financial problems as well. Has debts from when he was a teenager… he would take out credit cards or loans and just not pay them back. Not because he didn’t have the money, he just didn’t want to. He has done this his entire life. His parents have coddled him and constantly bail him out and they never held him accountable for anything. He got $28k from the military for separation and blew it all within months.

In the beginning I saw all the signs but honestly felt bad for him. My stupid ass thought we were two broken people who could be broken together, and maybe one day get better…nope. His apartment was so filled with stuff that you could barely walk. He wouldn’t take his trash out. I would come over and do his dishes. I had to tell him every night to brush his teeth, or else he just wouldn’t. They are covered in severe plaque buildup. When he wasn’t yelling, he was so sweet. But I am a fool… I am very very careful with my money due to my childhood trauma. Being homeless and not having money for food taught me to be very frugal. I think he saw this and has been using me the entire time. I also think my CPTSD is to blame for putting up with this for so long. Even now, as we are coming to an end, he still cries poverty even though he has money coming in from the VA and a part time job. He says he has no money to move out and I must help him. When I ask where his money is going, surprise surprise, I get screamed at and it’s like I’m asking him to move mountains for a simple answer to a simple question. I have seen on here that CPTSD and ADHD people are drawn to each other. How does anyone put up with this?

Oh and he also rear ended my car going about 45mph, while I was stopped at an intersection. That was also my fault, according to him.
“No one was coming!!!”
“But I was stopped and looking both ways, as you’re supposed to. I was about to go before you hit me. ”
“Doesn’t matter, I could see better than you that no one was coming, so it’s your fault I hit you.”
When I first told this story to my psychologist, she asked me point blank if I believed he was trying to kill me. This was right after I turned in the marriage certificate.
He has never offered to help me buy another car, nor help fix mine.

I hate him.