It’s 7:30 PM, a time I’ve come to know as bath hour, bed hour, or what I like to refer to as the witching hour. My daughter zips around the house, full of sugar-fueled energy, while my partner chases after her, urging her to use the bathroom. It’s time to prepare for sleep.
However, like any spirited four-year-old, she hardly listens. She continues to run, scream, and laugh until my partner reaches his breaking point.
“Lily,” he calls out, “bathroom. Now.” After a moment of hesitation, she complies, shouting back “okay.” While their dispute is resolved, the inner turmoil within me begins to escalate. I can feel the sweat pooling on my skin, my body starts to shake, and I find it difficult to breathe.
I’m among the five million Americans living with PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder. One of my biggest triggers? Yelling. Raised voices send my anxiety skyrocketing.
When you mention PTSD, many envision soldiers returning from combat, the chaos of war, and the violence they’ve endured. Yet, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, PTSD can develop after experiencing or witnessing various life-threatening events, including natural disasters, car accidents, or sexual assault. My own trauma stems from the latter and a long history of abuse.
As a child, I faced verbal ridicule from my mother, who made me feel inadequate. In my teenage years, a close friend and boyfriend subjected me to sexual abuse. My adult life has been filled with violence, from physical assaults to emotional trauma. While many situations can trigger my PTSD — bath time can stir anxiety, and criticism often leads me to withdraw — it’s the yelling that truly rattles me.
The moment screaming erupts, my body goes into a heightened state of alert. My hands tremble, my legs shake, and my heart races as if it might burst. I find myself desperate to escape, scanning for exits. This heightened sensitivity can linger for minutes, hours, or what feels like an eternity.
Before becoming a parent, I could more easily avoid my triggers. I would take a walk or run, or reach out to friends. But now, as a mom, I must confront my triggers head-on. Parenting itself has become a source of them.
I don’t hold my partner or daughter responsible; it’s simply a reality of my life. It’s not just their voices that affect me, but also my own. There are moments when I lose my patience, raising my voice, and those instances are the hardest. I don’t just experience a PTSD episode; I drown in guilt for being a bad person, a bad parent, and a verbally abusive mom.
I understand that my actions differ from those of my mother. I know my words aren’t the same, yet I am haunted by the fear of inflicting similar pain on my daughter. I refuse to let her endure what I have faced.
So, I fight. Each day, I strive to be the loving, present parent she deserves. Will I ever fully heal? Perhaps not, but I recognize that my past is a part of me. My triggers will remain, but I am on the path to healing — slowly, but surely — through patience, perseverance, and therapy. Lots of therapy. Today, I choose to fight, not flee.
If you’re interested in learning more about the journey of home insemination, check out this Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit Combo. There are also great resources for fertility at CDC’s Infertility FAQ and if you’re looking to boost fertility, consider exploring this fertility booster for men.
In summary, parenting can be a significant trigger for those with PTSD, but through hard work and dedication to healing, it is possible to manage these challenges.
Leave a Reply