The symptoms of PTSD you most often hear about are flashbacks, nightmares, and triggers. When I started having symptoms I hadn’t read about, it was disorienting. Did I have psychosis? Epilepsy? What was real?
PTSD can manifest in some bizarre ways that you won’t find in the leaflets at the doctors office.
Have you had any weird PTSD symptoms? Leave a comment below or over on my Instagram.
Here are 5 of my more unusual experiences.
Random Blackouts
Just after I had been to the police to report my abuse, I started having blackouts. I would pass out completely without warning for about 10-20 seconds, then wake back up with no memory of the intervening moments. Most times it was a simple loss of consciousness. Other times, I’d get headaches and lose control of my bladder. We called those the ‘deluxe’ blackouts.
My parents had to walk around the house with me just in case I blacked out and fell. They held my head whilst I brushed my teeth so I didn’t face-plant the sink. After my mum’s nose was broken whilst she tried to stop me falling, we gave in and bought a wheelchair.
I tried to live life as normally as possible, so I went to dinner with my boyfriend’s family. I spent the evening resting on his shoulder so that blacking out wouldn’t cause a scene. I think they realised it was legit when I blacked out and missed the dessert order.
I had loads of tests for epilepsy and bleeds on the brain but the whole thing was attributed to stress. The further I got from the police investigation, the more the blackouts faded. 6 months later I’d stopped having them altogether.
Age Regression
One blackout was so big it came with a bonus surprise. My Dad had been helping me up the stairs, but after I regained consciousness I was disorientated. All I could tell was that I was being held, very tightly from behind, by a man.
I ran into what I was sure was my bedroom but it was different. It felt as though everything had been moved around. I asked my mum what had happened. I asked her where my childhood cat was. What were the scars on my arms? I noticed her slowly ringing an ambulance but couldn’t understand why.
When we got to the hospital I was questioned heavily. Multiple doctors came to see me and to gawk at me.
I had regressed to my 14 year old self before the trauma. I had no memories of the trauma. I didn’t know I’d self harmed. I didn’t know my cat had died. It was all like a Lifetime movie, but with a less believable plot.
The doctors ok’d everything and wanted to send me home until the following day. They thought a familiar surrounding would be better. But I suspect they had no idea this was even a thing and were buying time to Google it.
I was under the crisis team for a long time afterwards and over the next few weeks things slowly came back.
Re-remembering my trauma was heartbreaking.
Super zombie mode
When I was healing from surgery for my trauma injuries, I was bed-bound and in agony. At the time I was staying with my parents, and was in my childhood room. The one I was first raped in.
One evening the pain was so intense I thought I was being attacked right then and there. What happened next is something my boyfriend — now husband — refers to as ‘Super Zombie Mode’. Something innate and survivalist took over. A sort of non-communicative autopilot with next-level strength. I forgot the pain that had kept me in bed for 6 months and ran to the bathroom. My Dad and boyfriend followed, concerned I was going to self harm, and tried to stop me closing the door. But I pushed it shut and held it closed. Against 2 grown men. Both considerably bigger than me.
I calmed down and let them in eventually. The adrenaline was swapped for pain and I was helped back to bed.
Neverending vomiting
I used to make myself sick after eating the cookies James* gave me (read more here). I think as a result, my body began to learn that vomiting was a release from stress and anxiety. So then I was literally vomiting everything I ate. For months. Like an all-you-can-eat-buffet in reverse.
I started deciding each meal based on what was likely to hurt when it came back on its return trip. Curries, jalapeños and tomatoes were struck off the list. Beans are like little bastard bullets. Rice can come back purple or yellow, the colour of the beverage you were having at the time. And spaghetti sometimes comes out of your nose, which is a whole new level of gross.
We tried reduced portion sizes, more mindful eating, and even private cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT).
There wasn’t any individual thing that helped. After I was admitted to a crisis centre I was able to better understand what was going on inside my head, the symptoms mostly faded. Processing my trauma through talking and reading has been a much healthier stress release than vomiting, though it’s taken my body a while to realise.
Audio flashbacks
One of the times I ended up in hospital because of a haemorrhage, I started hearing voices and sounds that weren’t really there. I attributed it to the mountain of pain relief I was on.
But after I healed up and came off the medication, the voices carried on. My boyfriend worried it was schizophrenia. I didn’t know what to think.
Months later, after attending CBT, I found out the sounds and voices were audio flashbacks from my trauma. I would hear word-for-word the things my abuser said to me as if he was standing behind me. I heard myself crying. I heard metal clanging. I heard him shouting my name.
It got so intense. It was multiple times an hour. I couldn’t focus or sleep. The CBT sessions and new medication weren’t helping.
8 months later I took an overdose.
My mother-in-law contacted a couple of TV therapists in the hope that they could help me. And they did. They gave me an ingenious tactic to take back control of my own mind. (Full explanation in an article to come soon).
Have you suffered with anything similar? Share any of your ‘not so textbook’ symptoms and any tips you have for dealing with them below or over on my Instagram page.