PTSD and mazes with only dead-ends

Admitting to something being wrong is the first step. Doing something about it is the second step. Both are essential. That's where PTSD therapy is essential. It's all very obvious and clear-cut. Admit the problem, get treatment. As neat and orderly as running unarmed into a war zone and getting gunned down. Nothing about it is clear-cut. It's just another phase in a war that seemingly won't ever end.

Though I have had psychotherapy for my PTSD at my current therapist for over a year now, it's only recently that my therapist deemed my current situation stable enough that we could start with the actual PTSD treatment, in the form of trauma (memory) integration therapy. This essentially involves digging out memories to create an ever more coherent timeline of memories, to ultimately approach and explore the traumatic memories.


I have forgotten so much. No, not forgotten, but tossed to the side, not thought about them, because they weren't important. Memories of being a child, of growing up, of looking at the future ahead of me. Of the person who I was, and who and what I thought I would become. This PTSD-induced narrative that my mind evolved over the years is however pervasive.

It's hard to put it into words. Probably mostly because the trauma-induced narrative that one's brain produces isn't rational. That's why one often feels so frustrated and angry with oneself, because what should be easy and clear just isn't working, or takes much longer than it should. Things that are easy for others seem complicated and take up a lot of energy. Thus one feels angry with oneself. Blames oneself.

Others will perceive this frustration and anger as being targeted at them, or interpret your internal struggles as you being slow or inattentive. The resulting external struggles in addition to one's internal struggles leads one to feel as though one is trapped inside a maze with the exit visible behind many doors, only to see them slammed close before they can get to them. Because they're too slow. Because they don't measure up. Because there's no reason for you to keep trying any more. Because it's better to give up.


This week's first trauma integration session already loosened up a lot of memories that I had thought gone or buried. Many impressions and sensations I haven't experienced in years. The flood of emotions that comes with this is overwhelming. And this is just the beginning.

I thought I knew who I was. The child back then thought it knew who it was. Now it's time to pull on all those loose threads and see what happens.


Maya