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When I Figured out What It's Called

How I Learned I Had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

By Aimee BrownPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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I've never been a brave person. As a small child I was terrified of the dark. I'm told that's normal. As I grew into a teenager and young adult, I hit a growth spurt. I was 17 years old and 6'2" tall. I had the weight to match and not a whole lot of enemies either. My best friends protectors, I never saw what happened coming. Now, being as large as I am, you can imagine I'm not a fan of small spaces or not being able to move. You'd be right. When I was 16, I discovered I have a huge phobia of being restrained or unable to defend myself. My senior year of high school I had kind of let this fear get out of hand. I'd have bad dreams, be unable to watch horror movies, etc. Again, I'm not a brave person. I confided in my best friend, who we'll call Emily, and she tried to help me deal with it. Little did I know? She'd gone to our other best friend, we'll call her Lucy...and the two of them dragged my third best friend, Mary, into their plan to get me for April Fools. April Fools came and went though and nothing happened...three days later I was on my lunch period and went to meet them at our usual spot. An empty classroom. I got there first, set my stuff down and waited. Now this was 2008, so smartphones and texting/Facebook were not the thing. When they arrived...I could immediately tell something wasn't right. There were two doors in/out of this classroom, both of which they blocked. Lucy at one, Mary at the other. Emily had stepped towards me, and in her hands? A roll of duct tape...Now that set me on edge, so I stood up. "What are you doing with that?" I'd asked trying to not sound afraid. "Oh this? Nothing, just spinning it around see?" She replied putting it down. Meanwhile, Lucy and Mary had moved closer. So the three of them had encircled me. Now, this was a physics teacher's classroom so it was honestly no big deal that there was rope on the back counter. Emily grabbed it. Before I knew what was happening, they'd backed me into the other corner. Lucy grabbed one arm, Mary the other. Emily had managed to tie my legs together now. I began to struggle against them but had a hard time balancing. They drove me spine first into the sharp edge of a table and now I was on my back unable to move. Both arms pinned down, legs tied together, and they weren't done yet. Lucy switched places with Emily who'd been holding down my left arm. Lucy was now standing over me, Duct tape in hand. "Guys we need to hold her down better and shut her up so no one downstairs hears her!" Lucy laughed. So did the other two. I however was not laughing. Lucy began to play with the tape. Ripping it off the roll over and over. Finally, she ripped off a giant piece and I had this sinking sick feeling wash over me...I began struggling again. Begging and pleading with them. "Come on guys this isn't funny. Please you're hurting me! Let me go come on!" I was on the verge of crying. I could hear the panic in my voice. "Enough. Shut up, we don't want to hear your whining!" Lucy shouted at me. And her face made me shiver. She then attempted to tape my mouth shut but I moved and she punched me in the face. Ever been punched in the face? It sends this shockwave through you. But it worked. I had been subdued and Lucy was able to put the tape over my mouth. So now I was completely helpless. Voiceless too. They were all laughing while I was crying and bleeding. It set off this indescribable fire in me. Suddenly, one of our younger friends came in and said "Hey! What the hell is going on?!" I dug my fingernails into Mary's hand, drawing blood and she released my right arm. She took off running. I now had a free hand. Lucy fled, a look of "Oh crap" on her face. Emily, however, was still latched onto my left forearm. She's 5'6" and 90 pounds soaking wet. But she'd been hanging off the table, nearly pulling my shoulder out of it's socket. I started beating on her and finally she let go and ran out of the room. The younger friend began playing 20 questions with me. I was freaking out! I was shaking so bad I could not untie my legs. So she helped. The second I was free I took off after those three bitches. They ended up back upstairs. They claimed they were not aware of my phobia and it was a joke. I was covered in bruises. Had a bloody nose, and was trembling uncontrollably. The rest of my senior year I suffered from intense nightmares. Vivid dreams that would rip me from a dead sleep. At the young age of 17? No, I did not tell the principal. Because I didn't want my "best friends" in trouble. I also had no idea that it would be affecting me ten years later.

After that much time...The nightmares, not being able to touch, smell or hear duct tape ripping, an overactive, startled response, panic and anxiety attacks, and feeling afraid all the time? I was lost. My best friend I met at my new job told me to do some research. She helped a lot. And between the both of us? Learned that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. And that what happened to me? Is called physical assault. Finally....after all this time. I had some answers. I cried. So hard. Now, I am still best friends with Mary. She apologized, we've talked it through. She also has to live with the guilt of forever changing my life. I reached out through my work and found a therapist who specializes in trauma. That has been amazing. But there will never be a moment as amazing as putting a name on what happened to me, and learning not only am I perfectly normal and not crazy? But it wasn't my fault. I'm the victim. And it was not my fault!!!! I started therapy in June. And am happy to report that it's almost January and I finally am doing better!!!!

ptsd
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