Quote from Wikipedia:
“Adults with C-PTSD have sometimes experienced prolonged interpersonal traumatization as children as well as prolonged trauma as adults. This early injury interrupts the development of a robust sense of self and of others. Because physical and emotional pain or neglect was often inflicted by attachment figures such as caregivers or older siblings, these individuals may develop a sense that they are fundamentally flawed and that others cannot be relied upon.”
Complex PTSD becomes even more complex when the abuse happens to an autistic child. Coping mechanisms that neurotypical children have may not work at all for an autistic child. In our family, the father was abusive and the mother enabled and assisted with the abuse, and sometimes just ignored it. Never did she step in to protect her children. Three of my sisters, two biological and one adopted, developed multiple personality disorders from the abuse and have required years of therapy to help them make somewhat normal lives for themselves. One of my adopted brothers has an alcohol problem and the other became an abuser himself. I also spent several years in therapy years before the autism diagnosis was made. I was at that time (1990s) diagnosed with PTSD, Selective Mutism, Recurrent Depression and Disassociative Identity Disorder. I went through extensive testing several years ago and the diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder were added. So yes! It is complex indeed!
What happens with my C-PTSD is that rather than there being just one trigger or a few triggers, there are many unforeseen triggers. The reaction when triggered is like a reliving of the original experience, whether it was a rape, having my neck broken, being strangled, or being shocked with the stock prod. I feel exactly what I felt when the original trauma happened and it is often incapacitating. If I am in a public place, it can result in quite a scene as I experience what happened all over again. I can taste the blood in my mouth from having been hit across the face with my father’s belt for refusing to lower my pants, just from observing a child about to get a spanking and resisting. I can feel the waves of electric shock go through my body and collapse as silent screams resonate through my mind, from hearing someone mention using a stock prod. It goes on and on because I am not even able to remember all the traumatic events that happened during the seventeen years of living with my “parents”. Often I have to go through several episodes of a recurring memory, reliving it over and over until my adult mind can convince me that it is not going to happen again, that it is over. Then I can have a brief respite until something else triggers a reaction. This is Complex PTSD.
Often I will express myself with poetry while working through a remembered trauma. An interesting observation I have made when looking back at my poetry is that it seems to be written by a child at the level of development I was at when the trauma happened. I attribute this to the raw power the memories had to return me to the actual incident, as though having to go through it all over again.
The following poem was written after my husband suggested getting a stock prod to control a particularly mean buck goat we were having issues with.
The Stock Prod
When I think about the stock prod
I think about the pain
Of never knowing when our dad
Was going to strike again.
He’d often catch us unawares
Or if we turned our backs
He’d jab us from behind and
We just never could relax.
Sound sleep was impossible
With shocks to start the day
It made him laugh to see our fear
To him it was just play.
An instrument of torture
For kids and livestock too
‘Til the animals all trembled
When he stepped into their view.
One day old Babe, the milk cow
Was so consumed with fear
That when he tried to milk her
She just wouldn’t let him near.
She fought and kicked and trembled
In fear of Master Jack
So he picked up a two by four
And broke the milk cow’s back.
She needed a good lesson
Or so our father said
It didn’t teach her anything
‘Cause then the cow was dead.
So then instead of milk to drink
We had half a ton of meat
They ground her up cause she was tough
We kids declined to eat.
And then out came the stock prod
We cleaned our plates up quick
While daddy sat there grinning
As he jabbed his power stick.
So if you think the stock prod
Is a necessary tool
And the goat needs a good lesson,
Can’t we just send him to school?
By Linda Hanson Denmark – 2003
I often communicated with my husband through writing or poetry. Because of my difficulties expressing myself because of my autism, I usually was unsuccessful in explaining things or making a good case for something I felt strongly about. After my husband read this poem, he abandoned the idea of getting a stock prod and agreed to let me sell the offending goat and get a nicer one.
Child abuse when inflicted on any child can cause Complex PTSD if it occurs on multiple occasions. However, the same abuse on a child that has autism, can complicate and increase the difficulties the child already has to face every day for life. All child abuse is wrong. How wonderful for all the autistic children who have loving parents who cherish them and are helping them through all the daily challenges! I hope that in some small way, sharing my story may help even one child. Perhaps even one parent can speak up and protect her child.
Complex PTSD does not go away.
Autism does not go away.
One of these can be prevented.