How do I tell my family that I have PTSD when they won't understand?
I don't know if this should be posted in health and lifestyle or sex and relationships so I just picked here. Let me know if it needs to go elsewhere.
So, I've been diagnosed with PTSD. Some of you may remember me from my post where I asked if I could have PTSD. Essentially I've had 4 miscarriages and 1 ectopic. This last ectopic is what sent me over the edge and caused my mind to crack (this is how I describe it. It literally feels as if it has cracked). It wasn't so much the loss itself as I'm used to that but, it was a bunch of environmental factors. We were shoved in a freezing cold room waiting for hours to see if I needed surgery. We were then taken down to the obgyn emergency unit to get a shot of methotrexate where I had to lay there for 6 hours listening to fetal heartbeats from neighboring rooms and baby after baby being born. They played this little jingle each time one was born and I wanted to bash in the speaker it came from near the end of my stay. I felt myself losing it during that and I felt like a caged animal. I wasn't allowed to leave as I was being monitored and I couldn't even escape to a bathroom to block out all of the noise. I tried to drown it out with the television but, a nurse asked me to keep it down because I was "disturbing the birthing mothers". They then handed me a rock as a memento (it felt like a slap in the face after all I'd been through) after and then the nurse told me that I should "take care of myself" and i left. I lost it about halfway home (we lived an hour away). All I wanted to do was look at the fields we were passing to distract myself and my husband couldn't even look up from his phone to see that I was in distress. He snapped at me that he didn't want to look and I finally lost it. I started crying and then when I couldn't fight the tears I started screaming. Like....just screaming. I couldn't do anything else but, scream. I terrified my husband. He calmed me down enough to where I was just crying and we made it home. I then spent 3 days trying to heal before the labor pains started. It didn't feel like my other miscarriages. This felt like true labor. Contractions and back labor and everything. I started screaming in pain about two hours in and I still hadn't started bleeding. I called my grandmother for a heating pad (I wasn't allowed to take pain relief) out of desperation and she called my stepmother who is a medical assistant. It took about an hour for the both of them to get there and in that hour my husband helped me breathe through the pain and I got a better handle on myself. They finally got here and my stepmother called her doctor. Meanwhile my grandmother was criticizing my messy house telling me that I should be ashamed. Her doctor said I was in labor and that I should try to get in the shower to see if hot water on my back would help relieve some pain. I then had her call my doctor who said if the shower doesn't work then I need to go to my ER (going to my ER is basically a guaranteed death sentence) and I panicked begging to go to the ER where my doctor was at. They said that I could rupture on the drive there and that I needed to go to mine then I needed to call them once I'm admitted. I couldn't stand without collapsing from pain so my husband literally had to carry me to the shower. I asked him to shut the door because I didnt want them to see me like this. My husband got me undressed and into the tub then turned the shower on me. My grandmother then came clambering through the door and my stepmother followed. I begged them to leave and they wouldn't. My grandmother then started criticizing my dirty bathroom(I hadn't emptied the trash in there) and my stepmother guided me to lie in the tub so that she could wash me. I didn't want her to touch me but, she proceeded to roughly wash me and my hair. I already had problems with people touching me and now she was touching me in places that I didn't want anyone but my husband(who had no idea what to do) to touch during my most vulnerable moment of my life. I was then dragged out of the shower and take to the ER. I had to sit in the waiting room for 4 hours stifling my cries of pain while kids with broken arms and a guy who might've bumped his head went ahead of me. I was told by a nurse that it wasn't a big deal when she didn't even know what was wrong with me. I finally was admitted only to wait for any help for another 4 hours and they refused to call my doctor despite me begging them over and over again. My husband tried to call him and we got an on call nurse who made us wait for the full 4 hours and then we didn't get a call from the on call doctor until after my visit the next day (she slept in). Anyways, I finally get taken back to the ultrasound room (still no pain meds because the doctor thinks I'm a druggie who is faking a level 10 pain). I then have an excruciating 2 hour ultrasound because I couldn't "unclench" and had a uterus in a "neutral position". I was crying in pain from just having her press my abdomen with the wand and then when she did the transvaginal I thought that I might vomit or pass out (i dry heaved a couple times). She started talking about how she tried for 11 years before she got her daughter and that i was lucky that I could get pregnant. I get back in my room and another 4 hours goes by with no word. My grandmother starts making things about her so my husband asks her to leave. My stepmom left long ago and now it's just me and my husband who has fallen asleep from exhaustion which means I'm all alone scared and in pain. Finally, a nurse comes in and tells me that my hcg has dropped which is great but, the doctor had said 3 previous times that he has no idea what he's doing and that he's out of his element so they're finally going to try to call mine. 2 hours pass with no answer and he comes in and says he's going to give me morphine. I say that I'm nervous about morphine because it gives me breathing problems and he gives it to me anyways. So now I'm in pain and I can't breathe. He then comes in and says "Oh! I guess you weren't faking it! The morphine is just a little mind trick we like to do on junkies. I'll give you some narcotics now." He then puts some in my IV and I start feeling dizzy and sick and my BP drops very low. I point my BP out to the nurse and she says, "It's probably nothing. I'm discharging you now." And I proceed to stumble out of the hospital high, not able to breathe, still in pain and still not bleeding. I just remember eating a TV dinner and passing out then waking up at 5pm the next day. My husband said I stopped breathing in my sleep twice and when he rolled me on my side I'd start up again. I get the call from my on call doctor apologizing profusely then she schedules an appointment for 4 days from then. After that I started having flashbacks. I'd flash back to the ultrasound photo of my baby. I'd have hallucinations of a little boy that looked like my husband. I had nightmare after nightmare. Running water would send me into a panic attack and I didn't shower for 2 weeks because I was terrified of it. I could hear those heartbeats and that little jingle over and over and over again in my mind only to then see my baby's silent ultrasound and the deafening silence around it. I'm still experiencing all of this. After that poll I sought help and was diagnosed with PTSD and Severe Anxiety and we actually have a specialist in PTSD after child or pregnancy loss that I can go to. I have an appointment with her for 2 weeks from now. My husband has said that I shouldn't share my diagnosis with anyone because they wouldn't understand and they'd think I was being dramatic. The problem is, people are noticing that I'm different now and are asking alot of questions. They keep commenting on the fact that I'm not leaving the house or showering and that I'm really quiet now and curt. My husband still doesn't want me to say anything but, I do want to say something. I'm just scared that no one will believe me or they'll dismiss me. I'm getting help now but, I feel like a different person. This is the first time I've been able to share what I've been going through and thank you for reading if you got this far. Do any of you have PTSD? How did you tell your families? How did they react? What should I do? I'm just scared and I know that I won't be able to hide it. Please help.