One night cost me my adult life

Many years ago, when I was young and attending university, I randomly met a woman who said she was going to kill herself. I tried talking to her, to coax her away from the water. From the start of the conversation to the next morning is all hidden behind a memory block, so I don't really know what happened. It seems that night was my first sexual experience, presumably because she felt she needed it.

For the next few months, I forgot about it, literally; I had no conscious memory of it. But it affected my sleep enough that I went to see help. The psychiatrist simply gave me sleeping pills, and though I started sleeping again, the experience was one again buried.

I had a few years of failed attempts to get into relationships, figuring that it was just that I was not very attractive, in whatever way mattered. Somewhere in there, I realized that I had had that unwanted experience and tried again to find help, only to find out that psychiatrists at the time didn't believe guys could be raped, and rape support was only available to women. I got very depressed, including some missing weekends, but managed to bury it all again and try to just live life, though still with no successful relationships.

Years later, a few years ago now, I tried for help again. This time, to avoiid any risk of drugs, I went to psychologists, rather than psychiatrists. From that I learned about PTSD, and feel this describes me well, including symptoms I had not realized were connected.

I'm sure I've missed a lot of the story, but hopefully this is, at least, enough of an introduction.

Shaking so bad I'm going to get a cup to drink ...