courage2

Thank you Turtle. I know you're a friendly presence here.

I wouldn't say I have flashbacks. I've had acid flashbacks, and do not have those anymore. However, there are certain brief moments of my life that come back to me with pretty much 100% clarity and in 3 dimensions, with accompanying emotions. And not when I choose to remember them, except that when I do accidentally remember them, it's hard to stop the vivid memories. Is that what you mean?

I can't stop them but I try to balance them with strong visualizations of safe places.

Turtle82

Hi Courage... I've never had an acid trip so don't know. It really doesn't matter frankly unless its crippling your life. If it is, then, getting a diagnosis and, possible treatment, is the best course.

I'll give an example. I can remember being beaten for instance and its a kind of trauma in itself just remembering but when I say "remember" I'm saying I view what happened years ago in my mind and know I'm doing it.... and, yes, it can be very 3D if I dwell on it enough... as if I'm viewing a 3D movie as you say. But, I'm outside of the action watching it though it can be pretty "up close and personal" depending on how I'm choosing to remember. I can view it from across the room or remember the attacker's face as they hit me, seeing that face but not being in the body that's taking the blow looking out of those eyes.. again, as if a camera is taking a closeup and I'm seeing it onscreen. (Hope I explained that) Anyway, that's memory during which I would still be aware of the current reality around me while seated at my kitchen table or laying in bed, etc, and aware that I'm just remembering.

Traumatic stress disorder is different. There would be a trigger and I would suddenly shift to another reality as if programmed or hypnotized to do so. I would be experiencing the beating and fearing the next blow and sometimes with imagined pain but its very "real." My perspective would be laying on the floor looking up at the person beating me or covering my face and seeing through my hands, etc, if that's where I was at the time, waiting for the next kick to my head or gut. There is extreme disorientation as the room I'm actually in morphs into the one I was in while being beaten and back again. There's no way, without treatment and methods learned, to get a grip on the real one and that, itself, is a terrifying loss of control. Years ago, I might be found by someone hovered in a corner whimpering and if you approached me, my hands would cover my face in fear you were going to hit me or I would attack you first because you would be morphing between yourself and my past attacker. Its really hard to explain but I hope that clarifies it.

And, btw, remembering being beaten won't bring on a PTSD episode.. not for me anyway. There are very specific triggers for an episode and most of the people I've known in treatment have them. I want to stress that I and everyone else has bad memories they deal with... vivid ones after the onion skins start peeling off in sobriety especially but if you have PTSD, that's a whole nother thing and it really should be treated. Just the fear of an episode occurring in public requires anxiety treatment.

courage2

Turtle, yeah, doesn't sound like me. I'm sorry that you've had to experience that, and I'm glad you've had or are having treatment. It sounds hellish. I've had some bad experiences, as have we all, but from what I've read elsewhere about PTSD, I never thought it fit me. I just want to become accustomed to this person I seem to be, whom I would have to say I've never "met" before.

The opposite of depersonalization, as Soberpotamus wrote. Indeed. Nice to meet you, I think.

Btw, I'm fine. Rather exhausted, but stable again. What, 4 days? Reminds me of some binges. But it was sober.

courage2

Sorry Turtle, I didn't answer that question. I don't believe I currently suffer from angst. I think my perspective on existence still best fits the philosophy of existential nihilism. But although nihilism has a bad reputation it doesn't cause me angst. There's nothing to dread and nothing to fear outside our own perceptions, although sometimes of course everyone is afraid. We're all equal in our capacity for pain and joy and our quest to carve meaning out of existence. If there's no reward, there can be no punishment.

silentrun

See what you did there Courage? Now I am going to be reading Ingersoll the rest of the night.

" In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments; there are only consequences"
" Happiness is not a reward -- it is a consequence. Suffering is not a punishment -- it is a result"
" Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind."
" The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart."

courage2

Who's Ingersoll? Now I'm going to have to look something up.

...passage of time on internet...

He's from my neck of the woods. Hi, cousin! Those midwestern freethinkers of those days were dangerous folks -- rabble-rousers, immigrant lovers, egalitarians and humanists.

silentrun

He was the guy that put into words how it felt when I finally freed myself from the shame and fear instilled on me as a child. I always felt like there was something wrong with me for leaving my doomsday loving upbringing. God was going to destroy me because I wanted to be a regular human being and not separate myself from the rest of humanity.

Ingersoll's Vow
When I became convinced that the Universe is natural--that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom. The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light, and all the bolts, and bars, and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf, or a slave. There was for me no master in all the wide world--not even in infinite space. I was free--free to think, to express my thoughts--free to live to my own ideal--free to live for myself and those I loved--free to use all my faculties, all my senses--free to spread imagination's wings--free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope--free to judge and determine for myself--free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the "inspired" books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past--free from popes and priests--free from all the "called" and "set apart"--free from sanctified mistakes and holy lies--free from the fear of eternal pain--free from the winged monsters of the night--free from devils, ghosts, and gods. For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought--no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings--no chains for my limbs--no lashes for my back--no fires for my flesh--no master's frown or threat--no following another's steps- -no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds.
And then my heart was filled with gratitude, with thankfulness, and went out in love to all the heroes, the thinkers who gave their lives for the liberty of hand and brain--for the freedom of labor and thought--to those who fell in the fierce fields of war, to those who died in dungeons bound with chains--to those who proudly mounted scaffold's stairs--to those whose bones were crushed, whose flesh was scarred and torn--to those by fire consumed--to all the wise, the good, the brave of every land, whose thoughts and deeds have given freedom to the sons of men. And then I vowed to grasp the torch that they had held, and hold it high, that light might conquer darkness still. Robert G. Ingersoll (1833-1899)

courage2

Beautiful. Good morning, silentrun.

courage2

Just thought I'd check-in here, to wind my part of this up, although threads belong to all.

What an odd spell. It was partly emotional -- and handling negative emotions without drinking is fresh territory for me -- and partly, for want of a better word, moral.

So I figure, that was just a little freak-out. Who knew I could care about something?

Thanks for everyone who offered their support and experience.