... does one go about getting diagnosed? I've repeatedly told my story to numerous counselors. I get the same response everytime "Wow, you've been through so much and made it this far, you're obviously strong". Then the PTS subject is dismissed. I've got an alcoholic, viciously mean, compulsive liar, and seriously unbalanced mother, and they seem to just want to talk about that. I've worked on that for so long. I've specifically made appointments for a PTS diagnosis and can't seem to get them to grasp the importance of this. Here's the story... when I was 14 (Im 50 now) I was walking down the street in my small hometown in very northern upstate NY. A car stopped, the man inside said "hey kid, get in, I'll give ya a ride". The sun was in my eyes so I didn't get a good look at him, but he sounded like and I totally thought it was my Uncle Paul. Once I got in the car I knew I'd made a bad mistake. I couldn't get out, he could control the locks from the drivers seat. He kept me for at least 9 hours, drove all over the place, got to the Canadian Border, then didn't cross it, instead taking me onto the, then abandon, Fort Drum property. Details that occured there don't need to be broadcast here. At some point while there, anger overtook the terror. I remember screaming at him that my Dad was a State Trooper (he was when I was an infant), that they were probably already looking for me, and that if he killed me they would never stop hunting him down. At that point I refused to cooperate at all. He angrily started the car, eventually dropping me off back in my hometown at the friends house I was headed to that morning. I told 5 of my closest friends the entire story. Over the years I did a lot of counseling to deal with many issues including this. Fast forward 25 years and this is where the PTS reared it's ugly head. I was tending bar for a living and one night there was a big "breaking news" story that came on the bars' TV. A girl in a nearby city had escaped her captor with a story of being held in an underground bomb shelter type of thing. She had been in there,chained, and repeatedly raped for 3 years. The man was caught right away, from here I'll use his initials and call him JJ. When the police went to this bunker (they estimate it was built in the early 80s) there was evidence of numerous women being held there over many years. The cops had been given reports by, I think 5 women over the years with the same story, but JJ blindfolded them so they couldn't tell the cops where this bunker was. Because these girls were mostly street kids, as I was in the mid 70s, they weren't taken seriously. As I watched the TV I began to shake and get sick to my stomach. Then they showed JJ's face. I started throwing up, fighting not to pass out. I was a mess for a couple of days, refusing to watch the news, trying to convince myself that it wasn't the man who took me, all the while keeping the police phone number that was on the original news story for women to call who had any dealings with this man. A few days after the 1st report I saw the news again. They were panning the camera through JJ's yard and there was the car. That same damn car he drove that day all those years earlier. I got in touch with the 5 friends I told when it happened, asked if they remembered what I had told them, and had them tell me my story, kind of testing my own sanity before I called the police. I did talk at length to a detective who began preparing me to testify if they needed me. By the grace of God he plead guilty to all counts, saving me from facing him in court. At that stage in life, I was in a fairly new relationship with, Thank God, an extremely patient man. Up to the night of seeing JJs face I was totally enjoying this new man in my life, feeling like a giddy teenager, kissing passionately, and fully exploring our new relationship. The day I saw JJs face things went wrong inside me. If I tried to kiss I felt like I was dying, I couldn't breath, my insides shook, and every muscle in my body involuntarily tensed like they never had before. If anyone, male or female, hugs me I tense up bad. I am able to be intimate, but half the time during it I realize I have "turned my brain off". My man knows the whole story, and is still hanging in there, we're on 9 years now. HELP!!! How do I get me back? What is there that any doctor can do that would make these reactions stop? Im so pissed at myself for allowing that piece of garbage to have this control of me!!! Someone out there must have a similar story that's in the healing process. Explain to me how to heal. My mate is naturally a very affectionate, huggy, kissy, kind of guy. I feel that I don't deserve him and that's it's unfair and selfish of me to keep him in a relationship when Im so broken. So, advice, answers, anything???