Minor inconvenience
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Are you me?
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Isn't the answer yes? Some things are just so serious that you can't let yourself be emotional about them. The little annoyances are the ones that it's safe to feel upset about without being overwhelmed.
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Seems like a sense of scale to me. Driving and hitting a speed bump is immediately disruptive, but ultimately minor, where you could drive up a mountainside and hardly notice.
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ADHD and anxiety disorders will do that.
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ADHD and anxiety disorders will do that.
wrote last edited by [email protected]Yep, may even be caused by certain forms of c-PTSD. I was required to develop hypervigilance as a method of survival, so everything bad/unfortunate/uncomfortable sounds the alarm, while anything good/normal/producing joy is *mostly glossed over (*extremes are still registered), as the main goal is staying alive and the latter won't kill me.
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Delicious PTSD
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Are you me?
I didn't realize that others did this as well.
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Yep, may even be caused by certain forms of c-PTSD. I was required to develop hypervigilance as a method of survival, so everything bad/unfortunate/uncomfortable sounds the alarm, while anything good/normal/producing joy is *mostly glossed over (*extremes are still registered), as the main goal is staying alive and the latter won't kill me.
I don't think people who haven't experienced it really can understand.
It's like something crazy happens.
People without complex PTSD freak out.
My ass is like, "oh, I was preparing for this" and then I deal with the issue.
I'm always right on the edge of losing my goddamn mind, so that when some crazy shit actually happens, I'm like, oh, okay. Ah, yes, this is what I was preparing for. Ah, feels so good to finally let the vigilance down and just actually experience life for a second.
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Depression
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I don't think people who haven't experienced it really can understand.
It's like something crazy happens.
People without complex PTSD freak out.
My ass is like, "oh, I was preparing for this" and then I deal with the issue.
I'm always right on the edge of losing my goddamn mind, so that when some crazy shit actually happens, I'm like, oh, okay. Ah, yes, this is what I was preparing for. Ah, feels so good to finally let the vigilance down and just actually experience life for a second.
wrote last edited by [email protected]Exactly!
And when it's something from neutral to good, my brain goes: "Oh... ok, unexpected. Is it dangerous? Well, then don't waste my time with it, I'm busy waiting for shit to get real."
(still me, btw, managed to get into this account)
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Seems like a sense of scale to me. Driving and hitting a speed bump is immediately disruptive, but ultimately minor, where you could drive up a mountainside and hardly notice.
wrote last edited by [email protected]Dealing with mental illness can be more like hitting personal speed bumps often and sometimes hitting a deer instead.
The mountainside inclined is the constant in the background.
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You learn behaviors from your parents. Whatever you see them do more often, you're more likely to repeat.
If you saw them be angry and indifferent all the time, that's what will come naturally to you.
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Exactly!
And when it's something from neutral to good, my brain goes: "Oh... ok, unexpected. Is it dangerous? Well, then don't waste my time with it, I'm busy waiting for shit to get real."
(still me, btw, managed to get into this account)
For me if things go well, I sometimes keep on looking where the bad in it is. I keep thinking: Okay, this seems good, so what am I missing here? And if people are nice to me and I feel I can trust them, I get scared and want to flee and be by myself. The more I feel there is genuine contact, the more scary it is.
I was diagnosed with cPTSD as well, by the way.
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For me if things go well, I sometimes keep on looking where the bad in it is. I keep thinking: Okay, this seems good, so what am I missing here? And if people are nice to me and I feel I can trust them, I get scared and want to flee and be by myself. The more I feel there is genuine contact, the more scary it is.
I was diagnosed with cPTSD as well, by the way.
wrote last edited by [email protected]Very much so, yes! A constant state of expectancy, like a perpetual calm before a hypothetical storm, but the storm's potential has real weight to my mind.
And yep, same urge, to overcompensate security when things are "suspiciously" safe, just in case. It's like 'things being good' in and of itself is perceived as dangerous by that entire mechanism, because it is an unknown to my mind when sufficiently intense. And it's fucking exhausting. It's like @bizarroland said, it feels like catching a break when things go to shit, because I know exactly how to deal with it.
I'm really sorry you're in this mess, too, and about all of the things which were done to you to get you in it
... But we're in this mess together, in a way! At least we still have people who get it, if nothing else. And, hey! Silver lining is we make for good crisis responders, we friggin' thrive in the shit!:)))And, as a last note, it can be relatively easier to sort of see it for what it is and manage it, because, in most such cases, it's an artificial mechanism born out of a concrete need and not in-built psychological specificity.
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You learn behaviors from your parents. Whatever you see them do more often, you're more likely to repeat.
If you saw them be angry and indifferent all the time, that's what will come naturally to you.
My poor daughter, she reminds me so much of her mother.
I remember when I first moved in with her. We were friends. We shared a room and a king size bed and nothing happened between us for months, and then it did.
She was sweet for about two weeks. The first time it happened I remember waking up thinking she was being attacked. “AHHHHHHH!” I sat up in the bed in horror. “WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING LATHER?!!!?” BANG, BANG, BANG
I got up and pecked on the door, “Is everything alright in there?” sobbing “Yes, it’s just this fucking shampoo. It won’t fucking lather. I keep dumping it on my stupid fucking head and it’s barely even soap!”
I sat down just bewildered. Like, seriously? That meltdown occurred because the shampoo wasn’t lathering to her standards? I used it all the time. I’m a man who doesn’t care about those things, I just bought what my mom always bought. I never had a problem with it. Hell, it’s 20 years later and I still buy the stuff.
The next time I woke up to a slam and clattering metal sounds. I walked into the kitchen. “FUCK THIS PAN! FUCK THIS STOVE! I give up, GODDAMMIT!!” She had turned on the wrong burner.
It started happening more often until it was every single morning. I snapped at her one morning. BAM I slapped the bathroom door. “CUT THIS SHIT OUT! I’M SICK OF WAKING UP TO SCREAMING EVERY MORNING!” She sobbed, apologized, stopped for a few days, fired right back up when she was more comfortable.
I started setting my alarm earlier than hers so I could get up and go outside until she cooled off. She never, ever, ever woke up in a good mood.
She’s been dead for 3 years now, but man, my daughter will carry her shit around for a lifetime.
I can control it with her though, calm her down, shut her up, but you gotta be careful haha. NEVER compare her to her mother, even if you’re just trying to be sweet or funny.
My daughter is only about a tenth as bad as her mom was with it, but even that can be exhausting.
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My poor daughter, she reminds me so much of her mother.
I remember when I first moved in with her. We were friends. We shared a room and a king size bed and nothing happened between us for months, and then it did.
She was sweet for about two weeks. The first time it happened I remember waking up thinking she was being attacked. “AHHHHHHH!” I sat up in the bed in horror. “WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING LATHER?!!!?” BANG, BANG, BANG
I got up and pecked on the door, “Is everything alright in there?” sobbing “Yes, it’s just this fucking shampoo. It won’t fucking lather. I keep dumping it on my stupid fucking head and it’s barely even soap!”
I sat down just bewildered. Like, seriously? That meltdown occurred because the shampoo wasn’t lathering to her standards? I used it all the time. I’m a man who doesn’t care about those things, I just bought what my mom always bought. I never had a problem with it. Hell, it’s 20 years later and I still buy the stuff.
The next time I woke up to a slam and clattering metal sounds. I walked into the kitchen. “FUCK THIS PAN! FUCK THIS STOVE! I give up, GODDAMMIT!!” She had turned on the wrong burner.
It started happening more often until it was every single morning. I snapped at her one morning. BAM I slapped the bathroom door. “CUT THIS SHIT OUT! I’M SICK OF WAKING UP TO SCREAMING EVERY MORNING!” She sobbed, apologized, stopped for a few days, fired right back up when she was more comfortable.
I started setting my alarm earlier than hers so I could get up and go outside until she cooled off. She never, ever, ever woke up in a good mood.
She’s been dead for 3 years now, but man, my daughter will carry her shit around for a lifetime.
I can control it with her though, calm her down, shut her up, but you gotta be careful haha. NEVER compare her to her mother, even if you’re just trying to be sweet or funny.
My daughter is only about a tenth as bad as her mom was with it, but even that can be exhausting.
Sounds like BPD
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You learn behaviors from your parents. Whatever you see them do more often, you're more likely to repeat.
If you saw them be angry and indifferent all the time, that's what will come naturally to you.
Huh.. That explains a lot actually.
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Sounds like BPD
Hey hey hey.
She was diagnosed with BPD right at the end of our relationship after I caught her cheating over and over again.
Of course once she done research on BPD I was lying and making it up and she never told me that.
Good lord man. What a nightmare it all was.
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You have no control over big events, so you're not offended by them. The small stuff you can control (or at least think you can), so it's immediately offensive to your sense of personal control and importance.
