Are you feeding the #PTSD posion trying to kill you?

Wounded Times
Kathie Costos
July 23, 2024

Are you telling yourself you're taking care of getting over what happened to you, or are you feeding the #PTSD posion trying to kill you?

I know I did that. It was after my first husband tried to kill me. My friends weren't willing to listen to me. Truthfully, I wasn't willing to talk most of the time. Their solution was to take me out every night to our favorite bar. They were trying to cheer me up. I was trying to get drunk enough to get some sleep. I figured if I passed out, the nightmares wouldn't wake me up as soon as I fell asleep. My poison was CC and Sprite. It should have been something to kill what came with PTSD instead of trying to get numb.

That was my solution back in 1981. People like me weren't talked about back then, and reporters didn't interview survivors of other traumas either. No one understood us but us. We didn't have the Internet or home computers. We had to deal with all of it on our own. What made it worse was that veterans had to deal with it on their own as well, which is ironic considering that researchers were studying what combat had done to them.

I used my own history as the basis for the protagonist of The Scribe Of Salem. Chris Papadopoulos is, in many ways, the male version of me. His pain and confusion regarding PTSD were what I went through. His struggles with God were the torment I went through many times. He self-medicated to kill the emotions he didn't want to feel since none of them were good ones.

I created friends for him because they were the friends I wished I had. Not that there was anything wrong with the real friends I had back then, but they didn't know what I was going through and were unable to help me. Chris was surrounded by survivors of other traumas. They remembered the pain but wanted to share the healing to restore hope within him.

It had to take place in Salem because it is an example of what can happen when faith turns against us. Faith was used as a weapon to control the people and cause them to fear everyone around them. They knew they could be the next ones to be accused of witchcraft. It didn't matter that people used the gifts in their spirits to help others. It didn't matter that most of those charged and murdered had no relationship to any type of witchcraft any more than the other 200 imprisoned were innocent. This hatred-inspired trauma caused another trauma of faith.

One of the biggest struggles I had was spiritually based, but I couldn't talk to anyone about it. I tried. My Priest had no understanding of what trauma did mentally or spiritually. It wasn't his fault he wasn't trained to understand it. After all, most therapists in the civilian world weren't trained either. Now, even the National Center For PTSD addresses the need for spiritual therapy. I helped people understand what PTSD was and then addressed their spiritual struggles. When they were ready, I made sure they sought mental health professionals.

The Scribe of Salem flips many popular beliefs around to change the conversation most of us wish we had heard. It flips what many hear in church to focus on what scripture tells us but they will not speak of. It flips what many think they know about Salem, including the fact that none of the accused were witches. After all, the judges supposedly thought witches possessed all sorts of powers. Did they really think the "witches" would just sit around waiting to be arrested? It flips from what too many think PTSD is into what it really is. It flips what people think about secret societies and conspiracies. 

I wrote it because I couldn't find anything like it. My poison of choice became something to kill the demon called PTSD. Isn't it about time someone flipped the conversation around and made it something that most of us need? 

Consider the truth a giant-size bug killer

Wounded Times
Kathie Costos
July 17, 2024

Some people mellow with age. Some people don't. I am one of those. I've reached a point when things bug me so much that I've been binge-watching shows repeatedly. I prefer to watch made-up horror shows than watch the news. Current events are more terrifying to me.

When people believe lies because they are of popular beliefs, no matter how ridiculous the lies are, truth isn't popular in their circles. No truth can penetrate their closed-down minds. The rest of us wonder what is wrong with them, especially if we know them to be people with functioning brain cells.

Hell has gone wrong with them. It isn't as if we haven't seen all this before. It has happened throughout history and has had deadly results. For those of us with PTSD, the lies we hear are more popular than the truths we need to know. It bugs me that the buzzing lies also come with financial gain for those pretending to help us. Sure, we could be grateful we aren't their targets because, apparently, they only know about Veterans with PTSD. It's hard to be thankful when we have been forgotten in all the news reports and veteran charity groups getting all the attention while the rest of us are left alone.

It bugs me that I used to be guilty of being just as obvious about civilians suffering, even though I was one of them.

Years ago, someone left a comment regarding how civilians with PTSD were ignored. I thought about it and then concluded that veterans were different. As a nation, we owed them help to heal what combat did to them. All the researchers back then agreed veterans needed to be treated in their own groups and receive therapy from professionals with special training able to care for them. I wasn't a veteran and never had trouble finding a therapist to help me. Not that I had a clue I was dealing with PTSD at the time, and my therapists didn't see it either. I just needed to do talk therapy to work through a lot of things. One was what I was going through with my husband when the stress was changing me. I was feeling angry most of the time. That is not in my nature. I knew I needed help to let it go.

Now I know I was living with PTSD in me most of my life. I had no clue I was suffering from a rare form of it. It bugs me that with all the clinical books I read, the therapists I saw, and the professionals I knew because of my work, I never learned anything about people like me. 

It bugs me that after all these years, veterans are still hearing lies because they are more popular than the truth. It bugs me they don't know civilians end up with PTSD after surviving just one event. They could see what their surviving events did to them if they knew about us. 

It bugs me that we don't communicate with them, and they don't communicate with us. Donating to charities focusing on veterans is all we need to do for them. We have no clue that sharing our struggles with them would help them more, and they have no clue that sharing their stories with us would help us as well.

So, what can we do to change the conversation? The next time you hear a lie buzzing in your ear, slap it with some truth and stop it from moving in. Explain the truth to the one telling you the lie. Read anything online you know is a lie, confront them with the truth, or at least let people know that the writer doesn't know what they are talking about. This has to include professional people lying about it.

We have enough crap that bugs us in the world we live in. Consider the truth a giant-size bug killer. 

PTSD:Demons don't just come out at night

Wounded Times
Kathie Costos
July 11, 2024

Have you ever watched a horror movie or read a book and wondered if demons are real? The answer is yes, they are.

While you probably have heard of the religious practice of exorcisms, they have been performed for centuries. The truth is, it's gone on a lot longer than that. Just read this from National Geographic.

In Mesopotamia during the 1st millennium B.C., purveyors of magic called ašipu staved off and expelled demons that brought illness and chaos. As spiritual healers, ašipu were esteemed protectors who used amulets, performed elaborate rituals and, when needed, engaged helper demon figures in their efforts. The ancient Greek word daimon—from which the modern "demon" derives—referred to god-like spirits and supernatural forces. While a daimon could be good or evil, the latter was a malevolent force that needed to be cast out or exorcized. The 1st century A.D. historian Josephus recounted the story of Eleazar, a man who freed others from a demon by drawing it out of his nostrils and repeatedly invoking King Solomon's name, attesting to a form of exorcism in Jewish tradition as well.

HealthLine took a look at sleep paralysis and the "demon."

How people describe them
What is this “demon” that leaves you trapped in your body, unable to move or scream? It depends who you ask.

For some it’s a faceless, shapeless presence trying to suffocate them. Others describe it as a creepy old hag with claws. Some see an alien and experience what they believe is a full alien abduction. And for others, the demons look like a dead relative.

Different cultures have different explanations for sleep paralysis demons.

Canadian Inuit attribute the sleep paralysis to spells of shamans. Japanese folklore says it’s a vengeful spirit that suffocates its enemies in their sleep.

In Brazilian folklore, the demon has a name — Pisadeira, which is Portuguese for “she who steps.” She’s a crone with long fingernails who lurks on rooftops in the night, then walks on the chest of people who sleep belly up on a full stomach.

If you have #PTSD, then you know what these are like. The difference is that the only demon invading you is the trauma you survived. I survived ten times, but it took the one event that changed everything for me. I write about it often, but as a reminder, my first husband tried to kill me and then stalked me. When I had nightmares of what he did, all the other times moved from the back of my mind and into my days. It wasn't much fun to constantly fight them. It was even worse to survive them in the first place. I had to remind myself that I did survive them and wasn't about to let them destroy me or my future.

Most won't tell you that but should say to you as soon as they offer any therapy. You are not facing the threat of the events that already happened, but you are facing the danger of what came with the memories of them.

And then there are people talking about the PTSD demons. Wrestling with demons: Veterans share their experiences of battling PTSD, addiction, suicidal thoughts.

Believe it or not, that's from the Department Of Veterans Affairs website.

Veterans’ greatest battle isn't always against an enemy combatant. Sometimes, it’s with themselves.

That’s especially true for Ben Evenson and Sam Lovdahl.

To mark Mental Health Awareness Month, the two Veterans shared the struggles they faced after serving — battles that included post-traumatic stress disorder, drug/alcohol addiction and attempted suicide.

The presentation, dubbed “Wrestling with Demons” because Evenson is now a professional wrestler and Lovdahl wrestled in high school, took place under a covered pavilion on a chilly, overcast day on the Milwaukee VA campus.

But the setting was apropos, Evenson said.

“Even though it's a (crappy) day out and it's raining, the sun is still shining, 1,500 feet above us,” he said. “It's the outlook on which you look at life that determines the outcome of where you're going and where you are now.”

PTSD doesn't want you to have hope, so it destroys it until you give up. It doesn't want you to know you can defeat it, so it gets in the way, planting doubts in your brain every time you decide to reach out. Stay away from the games it loves to play. You are smarter than that. You are stronger than that.

Maybe someone told you that PTSD was a sign of weakness. It isn't. There is nothing weak about surviving the cause of the demons invading you. You stopped being a "victim" of the event/events as soon as it ended. You became a survivor! Once you understand that, you begin to defeat it.

Now that you know demons are real, isn't it time you stopped feeding them are started to starve them?

stop being trapped by your past

Wounded Times
Kathie Costos
July 5, 2024

The walls you hide behind to protect you from more pain also protect you from more joys. It is time to remove the walls and stop being trapped by your past.

Have you ever wondered why you push people away, especially those you love? I know I did. After all the times I survived, my family saw right through me and got me to talk about what was going on in my head. Being able to talk kept the walls of #PTSD from closing me in. It was not until my first husband tried to kill me that I hid the pain well enough that they didn't suspect more than I was willing to share.

They assumed I would open up if I needed to, but the pain of betrayal from someone I loved was far more than what he caused. It involved everyone around me. I no longer trusted anyone who loved me. They did nothing wrong to me, but the walls were built to protect me even from them. Years later, I realized I was the only one harming myself. 

I didn't trust anyone. While I was making friends and dating after what my first husband did, I never felt close to anyone. That is until I met my second husband. I saw such deep pain in his eyes, and I knew he must have seen it in mine. 

He's a Vietnam veteran. The more I got to know him, he trusted me enough to share what being in Vietnam did to him. He was so young in that dark time of his life. His WWII veteran father kept telling him to get over it. After all, that's what his generation was told. I was the first to tell him it wasn't something he could just get over. He had to get through it. He needed to break down the walls built to protect him from more pain getting inside of him.

I gave great advice but failed to take my own. It took a long time for me to open up about the times I faced death. I felt as if his times were much more severe than mine were. I made it into a contest I believed I'd never win. How could my times be more significant than his? He was in Vietnam facing the fact he could have been killed every day. My times were over, and it was done, and I was safely back home within hours.

I couldn't tell him that I had flashbacks, nightmares, mood swings, panic attacks, and felt as if I could never take down my walls enough to really let him in. About fourteen years after our marriage, we moved thousands of miles from my ex-husband. I was still being haunted, although it never made sense to me. I was able to love my husband and our daughter. I wasn't able to feel their love. It was not until my cousin sent me his obituary notice from the newspaper back home that the nightmares, along with everything else, stopped haunting me. I was free. Free to finally take down the walls and believe other people could love me. It was a fantastic feeling. It also left me confused.

Many years later, we moved again, and COVID hit. I explained to my daughter how all the stress and fear would last much longer than the pandemic. I told her what my ex-husband did to me. While she knew what happened, I never told her about the lingering pain I had. She looked at me and said that I never told her I had PTSD. I was shocked!

I was an expert, but I didn't see it. I saw two therapists to help me heal from experiences I had, and they didn't see it. I contacted a couple of psychologists I knew over the years. Both of them said I had a rare case of PTSD because of all the times throughout my life I faced death. The first two times happened on the same night when I was just five years old. Long story short, a doctor told my mother I not only could have died but that I should have died twice the night before. He said it was a miracle I was still alive. I was admitted for five days to heal. My skull was fractured, and I had a concussion.

Knowing what I know now, it is never about what caused PTSD in any of us. It is what we do about our lives as survivors. 

Open up to people you trust in your life. You don't have to tell them everything, but you must let them know the basics. Trust me, because they are as confused as you are. They have no way of knowing what's behind the changes in you. They can only make assumptions. Those assumptions cause conflict between you. Don't blame them because you will have the same reaction if you look at what they are seeing in you. 

The more you talk about it and share what you're going through, the more the walls will come down. If you can't speak to your family, try a friend. If you can't talk to a friend, find a group trying to heal. If you can't find a group you feel comfortable in, find a therapist. If you don't feel comfortable with that therapist, find another one. 

You will see the world and yourself more clearly. Seeing the world without walls in the way is fantastic when you can let joy back in.

What makes us different from others?

Wounded Times
Kathie Costos
June 30, 2024

Most of us may not say it, but we wonder who we are. Why are we here? What makes us different from others? Why do we have strange thoughts and feelings we can't figure out? The answer is within us. Some call it our soul. Others call it our spirit.

I often wonder what makes someone join the military knowing they are risking their lives. What makes people join the National Guard to help the people in their state while knowing they could also be sent to foreign lands? What makes a firefighter willing to risk their lives and members of law enforcement? Their jobs are obviously dangerous. They are also emotional. They leave their families to put strangers first. The people they are willing to die for come first while on the job. How do they do that?

The many professions people feel compelled to do that come with a high price to pay. Most say it was what they wanted to do all their lives. They can't explain why. They just knew they had to. 

Most of them told me they felt pulled to do it. They never wanted to do anything else. That pull came from the spirit within them. It is what they were created to do. It always seemed easy for them to accept that. They found it hard to accept that that same spirit also had the power to help them heal.

It was also hard for them to accept the simple fact that they were only human, and no matter how much training they had, there were limits to what any human could endure. When the rest of us suffer after one event, or as in my case, over ten of them, we are living proof they need to know.

Most people with our experience have our hearts tugged when we hear about their suffering. Yes, we also feel left out when no one is holding any events for us or forming charities to help us get the mental health care we need. Still, we feel for them. We didn't willingly risk our lives for someone else every day. We were just trying to live our lives when #PTSD hit us.

Just think about how much we could do for them if we talked to them and told them how hard it was to survive what we went through. We could prove to them that we are not ashamed to talk about it and happy to share how we healed with them. 

Aside from having our hearts filled knowing we just helped someone, there is a bonus to it. It fills our spirits and helps us heal even more. The more we help others, the more we help ourselves. That has been proven to me for over 40 years when I helped total strangers go on to live happier lives.

Try it and change the conversation they've been hearing about having PTSD into something they may have never heard before. It's time to #breakthesilence for them and others like us.

Kathie Costos

Author of The Scribe Of Salem, The Visionary Of Salem, and 13th Minister Of Salem