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To preface: While I'm well aware that complex PTSD isn't technically an official thing, it may as well be.....they're supposedly adding it as a subtype of PTSD to the DSM-V. And I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever that I am a poster child for the dx. It's the only thing that totally and completely fits everything that's happened to me and how I've felt and currently do feel. (or don't feel, depending on the day...) They diagnosed me as bipolar II six years ago and I have never felt that it was an accurate dx. I take Wellbutrin and nothing else. I've taken mood stabilizers a couple times and didn't have much improvement. Unless my feeling-like-a-normal-person is akin to hypomania in a person not severely depressed, I don't see how I have it. (that...sentence probably didn't make sense. I can clarify if need be.) There is nothing cyclical about it at all. I DO have a mood disorder. Whatever it may be. And I think the root of it is my trauma and a few crappy genes. I don't have a brain disorder. I have brain damage. And lately, I've not been doing very well. It started with stress about some stuff in life and it all compounded to put me in a crappy place. And then I started hearing/seeing commercials and advertisements everywhere for "father's" day. And I've been seeing them for weeks. And last week I started to completely lose it. [next part may be triggery for some] I don't have a father. I don't know what it's like to have a father. And I don't want to fucking constantly be reminded that other people DO have fathers that they somehow feel love toward. I do know what it's like to have a male that married and impregnated my mother in order to produce an offspring that would serve as nothing but a punching bag for his CONSTANT emotional and physical outbursts. (They're still married, btw. Because divorce is a greater sin than beating the shit out of your kids/wife). I don't want to think about him. I don't want to remember him. I can't even drive through the city in which I used to live when I was still a minor and living with my parents without wanting to go 190 mph down the road to get the hell out of there as fast as possible (but I don't!). Just thinking about being in the city is making my heart pound as I write this. The other day I couldn't help but think about how much I want to take a baseball bat and cave in his skull. The thought of it brought me a sick sort of joy. I would NEVER actually do that though. I can't stand the site of gore, I don't want to go to jail, and besides....that'd make me just as bad as him. He deserves to suffer through whatever life he has left. His disease will eventually kill him; no one else has to. And EVERY counselor/therapist/psychologist I've ever seen has known my history and the horrible things I barely lived through. And all I ever get in sessions is typical 'how was your day?' & '...and how does that make you feel?' bullshit. I have DIRECTLY brought up that I need more than that. With at least half of the ones I've seen. And NO ONE DOES ANYTHING FOR ME. It's like they see someone with their arm hacked off and think a band-aid will be just fine and dandy to make them better. I don't know what to do. I am an irrevocably broken person that will never be better. I will always be brain damaged. No one cares to help me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Scream? Cry? Beg? DBT has been brought up with one, maybe two, of them and that's it. It never goes anywhere. I brought up C-PTSD to one of them and she FLIPPED OUT at me asking me who told me I had that (I never said I had it; I said the description sounds exactly like me) and whoever told me that needs to have their license revoked because C-PTSD is not a real thing. (This is the same woman that had the gall to ask me why I never called CPS as a kid if things were really that bad. I hope her shitty dog mauls her to a slow, agonizing death. ...I....might have some issues with holding grudges, heh.) The current place I'm going? Totally disorganized, HIPAA violations EVERYWHERE. I told the counselor about it and that it was thoroughly unacceptable. She said she would talk to the front desk about it. Rest assured, if I see the same shit the next time I have an appointment, I am absolutely reporting them to the board. I am trying to find a new place to go. HIPAA violations aside, the current counselor is completely useless. She's nice and all, but I may as well be talking to the Cleverbot AI. I am doing nothing but wasting my time and money by being there. I think she's new to the profession. I found a good one when I first started going.... I remember thinking to myself "she's really good at this. She'll be gone soon. Every single good one leaves.", and then at the very next appointment, she told me she was leaving. Just like I knew she would. Just like they all do. (The exact same thing unfailingly happens to my best friend as well!!) So I need to find a new place. And all I can think is that it's not worth it. I barely have the energy to live my life and now I have to basically throw a dart and land on a name of a Dr/MSW/etc in the area for whom I have no references and cross my fingers that they won't further damage me. I am NEVER going to get better with this bullshit. I will never find someone to help me. I finally get the courage to bring things up and I am always dismissed. Just like my entire youth. Nothing I say means anything because I'm not screaming when I say it. What do I have to do to get help? I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do to get people to take me seriously. Maybe if I had scars all over my body from being beaten they'd have some sympathy for me. But I only have one that's not instantly apparent. And all the other scars are in my head, binding up any chance for a happy life in a web of inflexible tangled frustration. So I guess they don't actually exist because no one can see them. If they were on the outside, I'd look like a burn victim that had their face ripped off. I want to be better. I don't want to have to keep shoving pills in my mouth so that I can wake up in the morning to only sort of feel like killing myself instead of wanting nothing more than death. And I CANNOT do it on my own!!! WTF am I supposed to do? No one helps me. I don't know how to ask for help aside from directly and explicitly asking for it!! I'm terrified of being labeled as histrionic or something. That me thinking I'm as broken as I am is just a symptom of me being crazy. So I don't press the issue. I state what I need and they think I'm trying to play doctor or that I think I believe I know more than they do. I have had VERY bad experiences with both MDs and Psychs. I just want to stop living a nightmare. I'm writing down names of doctors in the area in hoping I can find info about them online. I got as far as writing down the first four names and I can't do anymore. I want to throw up. I know it will just be the same thing. In eight years I have had ONE competent therapist. ONE. I may hate myself, but I don't hate myself enough to keep putting myself through the torture of baring my soul to one person after another with absolutely nothing in return. I want to flush the wellbutrin, fire every incompetent moron that thinks they're helping by having conversations with me I could just as easily have had with a five year old and letting the fate I deserve take me away. But I have someone that loves me. And I will not do that to him. I just want so very badly to give up. Nothing I do helps. Nothing anyone does helps. I am terminally broken. All I want to do is find someone that gives a shit enough to help me glue the pieces together. I know I'm permanently damaged and will never be a "normal" person, but I sure as hell could stand to do better than I am now! I have hope that it's possible to get better. I don't have hope that I'll find the person with the skills to get me there. I'm in the US and am lucky enough to have health insurance. If anyone can offer any wisdom on how to get my life moving, I'd appreciate it. I just feel like there is nothing I can do anymore. Because nothing I've ever done in the past 5-6 years has gotten me anywhere. I have run out of hope. Sorry for the wall of text. If I could say it succinctly I would.