My PTSD Story #1 – I Was Terrorized by A Masked Man and Nearly Kidnapped

Trigger warning: mentions of violence towards a child. 

This is just one of my PTSD stories – the trauma related events that led to me living with complex post traumatic disorder.

You may be wondering what place it has on a blog dedicated to happiness.  I am including it here because I really want people to know that they can find happiness, despite life’s trials. And I want to share the resources I have foudn helpful as I navigate trauma. 

Here’s the story…

I don’t recall my exact age when this traumatic event happened, but I believe I was around 12 years old.

It had just gotten dark and that made me nervous. A friend and I wanted to see each other. I decided to face my fears and walk to her house anyway.

Halfway down my street, I approached a big pine tree. That tree always made me apprehensive. I hated how it blocked my view. I certainly could not know if there was something, or someone, waiting on the other side of the tree. 

Now walking past in the dark especially scared me. I held my breath and wished for the best. After all, nothing bad had ever really happened when I walked past it before.

“Why should today be any different? I told myself.

I passed the tree and was about to sigh in relief when I heard footsteps directly behind me. 

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a masked man. He was dressed in all black. He wanted to be hidden. 

Fear rushed through my body.

I quickened my pace. So did he.

I began to run and he chased after me.

The first house I came to was dark. I would find no help there.

The second house looked promising. Their kitchen light was on and the blinds were open. Their kitchen overlooked the porch. I hoped someone was there in the kitchen, perhaps eating dinner. 

“Please, someone, be in the kitchen. Please be in the kitchen.” I thought as I ran across their lawn.

I arrived on the porch to the view of an empty kitchen. I rang the doorbell and began frantically banging on the door.

The man was now directly behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck. His hands began to curl around my shoulders.

“This is it. I’m being kidnapped!” 

Perhaps sexually assaulted. Or even killed!

I was terrified.

But just then, my neighbor walked into the kitchen. However, he was looking at the floor as he walked. I screamed (silently, I think). “Look up! Look up!” 

The would-be kidnapper saw him. He jumped off of the porch and ran into the backyard. I was saved just in time.

HOW THIS EVENT AFFECT ME?

I began having recurring nightmares about being kidnapped. I began to have a lot for fear of walking places. I began to feel disassociated from my body some. 

Resources

As part of this series on PTSD I will be sharing some resources that have helped me. Stay tuned.