Complex PTSD Is No Joke
I was diagnosed with complex PTSD in June 2006. I hadn’t slept for two weeks, my heart felt like it was going to come out of my chest, and in the middle of the day, every day, I was hearing my baby, who had died more than a year before, crying for me.
I was still going to work every day. I was still cooking, cleaning, and caring for my dog and daughter. But I felt like I was going to die, so I finally called for help and received an emergency appointment.
The following week.
I had nearly every symptom on the PTSD list. When I saw my psychiatrist at Kaiser Permanente in Fontana — the first psychiatrist I’d ever visited in my life — she took my history and at the end, looked up from her tablet and said,
“You must be a very strong person. Most people with your experiences are in the hospital or dead by your age.”
Throughout my life, I’d been edging ever closer to the symptoms of PTSD. I was physically and emotionally abused growing up. I was raped 11 days after my 21st birthday. I had been beaten by partners more than once. And on January 11, 2005, I returned home from my second day at a very high-pressure job to, along with my 12-year-old daughter, discover my baby Anthony lying unconscious, his face covered with vomit, entangled with his bottle and covers — not in his crib, but at the end of my bed.
Anthony (Lali) died at Tarzana Medical Center that night.
Because Anthony’s father had been involved in a many-year custody battle, there were hundreds of child abuse reports made about him that had never been investigated. I was charged with responsibility in his death. The court process lasted three months before I was found (completely) innocent and the records ordered expunged.
But even then, I didn’t have full PTSD. I maintained my responsibilities and did not experience full PTSD symptoms.
Some time in June 2006, I had long since left my baby’s father, the horror writer and editor Alan Rodgers, and I was at work at Beyond Shelter. My phone rang, and it was another writer that I won’t bother to name. This man is supposedly living on cruise ships now to save money.
“Have you seen the Alan Rodgers Experience web page?” he said?
Then he hung up. I searched on the internet and saw a web page indicating that Alan’s custody battle over his nearly-grown children had continued, and that the web page stated that I, and my daughter, had murdered Anthony. This is the true story.
That was the final blow to send me into full PTSD.
After I visited the psychiatrist at Kaiser on that long-ago day, she diagnosed me with complex PTSD and prescribed Prozac.
“Come back in a month,” she said. “I guarantee you will be 50% better.”
She was right. I took the medication for three months as prescribed and experienced a form of recovery.
But not really.
Later, I learned about the ACES, adverse childhood experiences. I was raising money for homeless mothers and children. I was helping to administer programs that supported them. Nearly all of them had histories of being beaten and raped. Many of them had been abused psychologically and physically as children. Life continued to be hard for them.
For years, I thought I was 9 out of 10 on the ACES list. Then I looked again. My brother was absolutely in and out of jail and prison.
A solid 10.
Because of my high ACES (which Alan also had — not as high as mine, though even though he and his sister grew up in foster homes), I stayed with him far beyond the point any normal, non-ACE woman would have left. As far as Alan’s children? I can’t imagine — but I do know that their stepfather, the author of the defamatory web page accusing me and Meredith of murdering Anthony — had done the same thing to Alan’s middle daughter as Larry David recently did to Sesame Street puppet Elmo on NBC’s Today Show. She came to live with us for three months and no, she wasn’t abused during that time period. She had a safe, decent home.
My daughter, too, has been diagnosed with complex PTSD.
More than one medical provider has told me that PTSD is a lifelong condition. Complex PTSD is legally regarded as a permanent disability. It is considered as an eligible condition for medical cannabis licenses in every state that legally allows medical marijuana.
There’s a good reason for this. I have experienced few symptoms since I used a small amount of medical cannabis gummies in 2014. Now, I have reduced stress in my life and improved my physical health to the point where I consider myself fundamentally cured. Yes, I do think medical cannabis can benefit PTSD symptoms for many people. I have never compared my PTSD to the horrific symptoms suffered by combat Veterans or that suffered by people, including children, who’ve survived terrible events like the Oklahoma City bombing or 9–11. Or — right now, the devastation in Gaza.
I also think it is a horrible crime that our Veterans with PTSD are denied this potentially life-saving and life-improving, beneficial natural substance.
But we also have thousands of honorably discharged Veterans who put their lives on the line for our country on our streets. These men and women deserve care, support, and decent places to live.
When I finally viewed the notorious video where comedian and writer Larry David attacked Elmo on NBC’s Today Show earlier this week, I laughed heartily. It was genuinely unexpected and funny. David’s later apology, while hardly “heartfelt,” was also funny.
And today I saw that actor and aspiring writer Wil Wheaton, aka Wesley Crusher from Star Trek: The Next Generation, admitted via his social media that his PTSD symptoms were triggered by seeing Larry David attack Elmo.
This is what Wil said:
I’ve never liked this guy. A lot of people have visceral reactions against him, which is probably wrong and unfair.
It isn’t that Larry David did a good thing by attacking Elmo. But the level of entitlement and lack of perspective in Wheaton’s statements is guaranteed to inspire the firestorm of mockery that he’s presently enduring.
I’d love to also make fun of him. But he did make a vulnerable statement. I don’t want to minimize his distress. It doesn’t matter what brings on PTSD. Once you have it, it’s bad, and yes, I suppose it is possible for flashbacks to be triggered by something as unrealistic as a comedian pretending to punch and choke a puppet on a morning show.
I don’t want to make fun of Wheaton but I do want to say, he is privileged. Some might say “spoiled.”
Let’s not use me as an example. Let’s use the many women I worked with at Beyond Shelter and Family Service, a total of over 15 years of my working life. Beaten, raped, robbed, homeless, unable to get decent paying work, struggling to feed their children every day. Let’s use the students who were in my community college classrooms. Many were immigrants from war-torn parts of the world: the Middle East, Africa, Southeast Asia. I read papers by students whose fathers, uncles, and brothers lost limbs or lives in the Iran-Iraq war. One of my most gifted students had been imprisoned in Evin Prison and tortured for five years: because she was a female Ph.D. in early childhood education at the university in Tehran and had published a newsletter for new parents.
Let’s use the many men and women from our own country who’ve been in combat and who’ve seen their friends blown apart in front of their faces.
Think about the degree of self-centeredness and lack of common sense and empathy for others that would create a message such as Wheaton’s.
Our culture makes it possible for there to be such men as Wheaton. Thousands of them.
Wil Wheaton is the flip side of Larry David, the professional jerk.
Wil Wheaton is the delicate nerd who lives in a world of cartoons, infantile sci-fi, and sycophantic online fans.
What these individuals who dominate our culture do, is make it much more difficult for all of the rest of us to be healthy, happy, and live our lives free of fear.
Was it “right” for Larry David to get attention on the Today Show by attacking the puppet Elmo during his segment? It was funny — it was unexpected — but it was also so typical. Some people are so self-centered they can’t even wait a couple of minutes for puppets to stop talking about — guess what? Mental health.
I’m sure Wil Wheaton does not like the dragging he’s getting via social media for saying he had PTSD symptoms from seeing David’s attack on the puppet.
I’m equally sure there are mommy bloggers out there attacking Larry David for traumatizing their young ones.
The reality is: over 60% of adults in the US have at least one adverse childhood experience. That is over 200 million people. One in six adults have at least four ACES, amounting to tens of millions of people.
The ACES are high predictors of chronic illness in adulthood. Not just alcohol, tobacco, and drug addiction, but also cancer, heart disease, and diabetes.
It sounds like Wil Wheaton does have some of the ACES, maybe several.
I have all ten plus a few other precipitating CPSTD factors, and I no longer use tobacco (I smoked off and on for 50 years), I drink very occasionally, and I have nearly optimal health for my age and sex. My resting heart rate is 52 (it has gone up since Bruce has been ill — stress), my VO2 Max is 40, I get 11,000+ steps per day, I have low blood pressure, and all my other metrics are excellent.
I still occasionally use medical cannabis — as it was prescribed, legally.
Am I telling people that I’m better than Wil Wheaton? I’m saying I’m healthier, and have worked for a decade to be that way, to recover from my PTSD, and to improve my physical and emotional and spiritual well-being.
I have the common sense not to say something like Wheaton did when I know how bad off I’ve been. Especially when I know that there are millions of others far worse off who are getting no help or care whatsoever. I have the natural shame not to say to millions of people I’m “triggered” by a comedian and a puppet at the same time as I accuse my parent of severe abuse.
When our culture spoils privileged men to this degree this is what we see: a jerk like Larry David who can’t wait one minute for his turn on a morning show, and a completely unself-aware and socially immature individual like Wheaton. These men are famous, and like the many I knew in the “industry” and environs in Los Angeles, appallingly self-centered.
The man who called me back in 2006 to tell me about the web page that pushed me into something that’s officially considered a lifelong disability desperately wanted to be . . . just like them. In behavior and morals, he is.
As I’ve said before and I will say again, the people who show up to work and do their jobs every day are the ones that make our lives possible.
Maybe it’s about time we pay some attention and care to them.
ncG1vNJzZmiZna7AtbHRpaCnn16owqO%2F05qapGaTpLpwvI6cpqaonJrFbrzTrJtmoaNiu7B5yaiing%3D%3D