Part 7: College Years and PTSD

Among all the things in my life that I now have such heartfelt gratitude, one of the most humbly honored is the vantage point I thankfully now possess. Walking a path as a devotee to "awakening unto myself" I hold as the greatest most valued treasure of appreciation and thankfulness.
Out of high School, I headed to Berklee College of Music in Boston. It was there that I entered into an emotional and psychological fallout of an anxiety disorder. My family had no idea how to deal with this because it was so less accepted to seek professional psychological and emotional help. In my parents' minds, these types of insights did not exist as a viable resource. Certainly addressing emotional issues was not part of their upbringing. This was also compounded by the societal stigmas of psychological or emotional disorders still existing at the time.  
The few years following Berklee, I bounced around through a number of college programs as a music major. By that point I was suffering from severe psychological and emotion trauma that rendered me in a state of fear and anxiety. None of this was diagnosed. What I have come to learn is that during my formative years, the various abuses that I experienced were the breeding ground for decades to come as the formation of CPTSD - Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
For the next four years, I suffered from a paralyzing and frightening dependency on my parents. The degree to which I had clinical depression - as far as conventional diagnosis go, was horrific and life threatening. The pain at times was unbearable as the only relief was to head to bed and hopefully fall asleep. The only way my mother and father knew to respond was expressing a state of upset, leading to disapproval of me and eventually pure anger - although the anger was less my dad and more my mom. She simply did not possess the insight or tools to address what was now misery within her life.
I finally began to extricate myself from the depths of my situational paralysis by taking the step to move into a shared house with a couple of music-based friends. This allowed for my parents to have some recovery time as gaining their own life back. It helped their disposition toward me, and thankfully some aspects of our parent-child relationship began to improve,
and through all of this I somehow forged my way. The sad aspect is that unknowingly, I continued to inflict such devastating self-abuse upon my mind and body. Amazingly and astoundingly, fantastic opportunities always continued to come my way. I was so often and routinely never adequately prepared for the beauty and blessings of these gifts. More shame to come and more self deprecating self annihilating behavior began to emerge. In decades following, severe depression ensued.