I have had so much trauma in my life, I guess it could be anything. I'll list some of then going backwards in time. My father passed away in 2001 from complications of alzheimers and then I was caretaker for my mom until she passed away in 2006 from alzheimers. It was so hard seeing both of them like that.

I had a horrible time with my 2 teenage daughters which culminated with one of them running away from home at the age of 15. She choose drugs over family. There is a happy ending to this trauma tho.

At age of 30 I slipped into severe depression and from that point on have constantly battled depression.

At the age of 23 was in severe car accident. Right foot severed, 14 broken bones all together. Foot was reattached, but some days I wish it had't been. I battle constant pain and the accident has totally dominated my health ever since. Ankle fusion, knee surgery, melanoma at 25, now the latest is severe degeneration in spine due to 1 leg being 1.5 inches shorter than other (due to accident of course).

Severe acne in high school, not even tetracyline could touch it. I totally withdrew into my shell over that one. It was everywhere and not just little ones, but the deep ones, on shoulders, back, neck, face. It was horrific.

I hate being whiney, but I am proud of myself for everything I have weathered. I am sure there are others who are less fortunate than I. However, it's nice to be able to vent in this thread. I wonder if the blow to my head when I hit windshield did it. Who knows.

kinda goes hand in hand with my hosp notes... semi list of life event..

physical abuse, incest growing up
encephalitis, menangitis, shingles as a teen
left school pregnant , married age 16
late teens, menangitis again
appendix removed from appendicitis attack 7 months preg with daughter 2
left first hubby, moved cross country age 21.. me and daughters age 4 and 2
few months after move, 2 year old daughter dev. rare blood cancer.. almost died.. on chemo and relapsed.. radiation.. made it
dxd pd age 26
raped by ex twice
on welfare 8 years
third child born with chord wrapped around neck 3 times..
oldest daughter sexually molested age 10
second husband physically abusive
middle daughter ran with gangs beginning age 13
father died from alchoholism age 62
youngest daughter attempted suicide
horrible misdxd , landed in mental unit of hosp 10 days
middle daughter hit me standing with my car
second husband dies (after divorce)
hubby 3 jailed for dv
mother dxd with ovarian cancer

yada yada yada

BUT

grew up in privleged home monatarely-wise
learned piano age 5, played bach, chopin, mozart by 12
got highest score in entire school district on 600 question music theory test
became a Christian
got my ged
completed 2 year college course in 9 months while single mom of 3
got good paying job at boeing
bought my own home
bought my own harley
taught myself computer graphics
owned 2 antique stores, one clothing consignment store
purchased 1/4 acre on ocean
won 8 blue mountain arts awards for poetry
made it in online affiliate for writers digest
had book published
composer for seattle symphony performed one of my songs
began parkiejam
began parkinsonprofile
put out "the beat" newsletter

and..
daughters one, two and three are all here.

now...

this is the way i look at it..

I am sitting here at my puter at 7:42 pm typing all of this... any of those things in either list could be different.. it doesnt matter. the past is gone. nothing can change the fact that now, at 7:46, i am sitting here at my puter typing all of this.

This is what those of us with anxiety must try to live by. especially if you have the dxd of ptsd. the past is gone.. the past is gone.. the past is gone.. and yes, i know... it is now 7:48. and if i think much more on the past, it will return. and today is full enough.

Born to 17 year old boy and 16 year old girl in rural East Tennessee. Father alcoholic. Mother increasingly helpless.

Luckily, large extended family on both sides. Maternal grandparents exceptionally stable, strong, and poor. They were my rock. They never knew how bad the alcohol problem was. One hid it in those days. But just by being who they were they saved me.

Grew up wandering the woods, fields, and mountains with my grandfather. Around the house my tiny grandmother was matriarch. Deservedly so. It was only later that I realized how unique they were. Born into an essentially hunter-gatherer culture, they saw the coming of everything from the automoile to the atomic bomb.

Taught me to be strong and to take responsibility. Cursed with intelligence, I did well in school. Very well. Voracious reader.

Shouldered the burdens of my father's drinking like a little stoic. Protected mother and siblings even when it was killing me.

Thanks to a cousin from the big city of Chattanooga discovered drugs long before 99% of my peers and liked them. At least the psychedelics. Drew the line at needles and half-a-dozen other things. Even in the drug culture I was responsible. Alcohol was on the "avoid" list - a product of my dad's example.

Raised hell, cheated both the law, the church, and the Devil and emerged intact.

Met and married my wife. Buried my father after suicide. Dug my grandfather's grave. Stood in the rain looking at the embers that had been my home. Cared for my wife through illness that put her in a wheelchair for months. Buried my grandmother. Then my brother.

Noticed a tremor in my right hand. But life rolled on. Self-employed, there was always a reason for not going on vacation. 60 hour weeks the norm.

Then had the flu in 1999. Symptoms became worse and worse. Diagnosed 2000. Knowing the clock was ticking, went into real estate development. The plan was to get enough rental income to live on when the time came. Still don't know if I made it.

Rick,

OMG, you had to be the man (little stoic, what a perfect description) of your family almost all your life. I liked the part about your Grandparents and what they meant to you as you grew up wandering the woods, fields and mountains. And reading. Thank goodness you had those things. I use to take a flashlight to bed so I could read but I usually got caught.

I think you and many others need a break for crying out loud. Do you ever feel like screaming "Is this a test.......and have I passed yet"? These stories have humbled and touched me. It sure puts things in perspective for myself. Thanks for that.

Bonnie

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?
I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?

Everybody!
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

That’s it!

thank you ms joplin

First, Janis Joplin was certainly a tortured artist, but a brilliant one. Love that song!

Like everyone that's posted, I've had my share of trauma throughout my life as well. So what I really wonder is, what was the ONE event, either psychological or physiological, that broke the proverbial camel's back? A lot of the MDS's that I've had the privilege of speaking to nationwide seem to think there is essentially one "trauma" that basically kick starts our PD.

For me, it was a severe lower back injury. I got hit from behind in 1989 while playing ice hockey and basically blew out my lower spine. Two years later, in 1991, I could literally only walk about 10 steps before I had to stop and catch my breath because the pain was so bad. Went in for surgery (10 hours), flat lined, had a four level fusion, tons of titanium hardware installed to hold me together, and embarked on a 5 1/2 year ordeal of no work, just physical therapy 5 days a week and another surgery to remove the hardware. Had to learn to walk again, get dressed, get in and out of bed, etc. It was a long, hard road.

I recovered, but essentially switched pre-surgical pain for a different kind of pain post-surgery. I have not been pain free since 1989 when I was initially injured. In fact, I can't remember what pain free feels like!

The docs think my PD started sometime after my surgery. Rigidity on one side, bradykinesia, loss of fine motor skills in my dominant right hand, sleep disturbances, depression, loss of smell, constipation, etc. Pretty stereotypical stuff. So that would put my "start date" almost 15 years ago, with the symptoms really becoming truly bothersome about 4 years ago, and the "official" diagnosis at 2 years ago.

Pretty interesting disease to say the least!