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Post by steellily on Jun 19, 2011 16:11:59 GMT -5
I am here and have experienced these things and that's all can say at the moment without getting panicky. I write poetry and prose a lot to deal with this stuff. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it makes it worse. The nightmares and body memories are the worst of the PTSD symptoms for me. Usually panic attacks lead to body memories which leads to cutting which leads to loads of other things. I don't sleep at night between 11pm and 1am because of the body memories. I guess that's it. Sorry.
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Post by electprogeny on Jun 19, 2011 16:19:32 GMT -5
No need to apologize. I'm 40 years old and still sleep with the light on. I take a prescription medication so I can sleep through the night w/o having to wake up at every little noise.
It will get better. It's not a matter of time. It's a matter of choice.
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Post by steellily on Jun 19, 2011 19:16:22 GMT -5
It seems I can only spend a couple minutes here at a time before I start to freak out. I don't know how it got like this. I used to be a counselor that helped people through this. I hope I won't become annoying by posting a lot...if I can manage it.  There are things I know I need to share but I hit a certain point and shut down...but it all catches up again in the end. I suppose resistance IS futile. Also, I deflect with humour so hopefully I won't inadvertently offend anyone. |
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Post by harmonystarr on Jun 19, 2011 20:37:57 GMT -5
steellily, post as many times and as much stuff as you want to and can. We are here to help each other and to listen to each other. Im so glad that you are sharing!!
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Post by electprogeny on Jun 20, 2011 0:36:15 GMT -5
It seems I can only spend a couple minutes here at a time before I start to freak out. I don't know how it got like this. I used to be a counselor that helped people through this. I hope I won't become annoying by posting a lot...if I can manage it. There are things I know I need to share but I hit a certain point and shut down...but it all catches up again in the end. I suppose resistance IS futile. Also, I deflect with humour so hopefully I won't inadvertently offend anyone. Please, hon. How long have you known me now? I am the master of deflection via humor. LOL  So glad you did as I asked and came here, love. And, as you know, I put my money where my mouth is - I shared something I would never have because I couldn't ask you to do so if I wasn't willing to. I promise, hon, it WILL get better. |
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Post by steellily on Jun 22, 2011 16:13:41 GMT -5
Okay so I'm gonna try this vulnerability thing. I may run off afterward...not that anyone but M up here knows me yet but here goes. I was fairly sadistically sexually abused from 6-12. Sadistic is the only word I can think of for what the bastard did. He painstakingly spent years convincing everyone in my life that I was a liar so if on the off chance I got brave enough to tell anyone, they wouldn't believe me anyway. In my last therapy attempt, I remembered things that were far worse than what I remembered before and my therapist wouldn't allow me to verbally process the things I recalled because she said that was not the point of EMDR. So I've been sitting with these new horrific memories since October with no way to process them. I don't want to tell my friends because I don't want them to a) run off because i'm too much to deal with or b) handle me with kids gloves.
I am emotionally trapped at 6 years old. I see my little girl self but can't find a way to get to her because she needs major hugs and a bath and love.
I was raped again almost 4 years ago now in my last ditch "Christian" effort to date a boy and prove to myself that I wasn't a lesbian. Irony? Yes I'm aware of the irony in that.
It's time for me to share my art and my writing because people need to hear it and know that they aren't alone. I don't know that I'll ever find all the pieces of myself that were shattered but I hope I'm starting to believe that it's okay if I don't. I am still beautiful and worthwhile despite or maybe because of this. This is a rare moment of clarity and I'm going to revel in it for a while.
Some of my scars will never go away. I'm not sure that the desire to kill myself will ever fully go away but life happens one day at a time and I have to be present to enjoy what I can or I will be miserable forever.
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Post by electprogeny on Jun 22, 2011 23:13:06 GMT -5
I am SO proud of you, doll. I know you are freaking out after sharing this, but you are - now - getting to process. Keep processing. It's what this place is for, and no one is going to judge you.
Most of us have either had similar experiences, or know someone who has. It's time for that 6yr old to open her eyes and start seeing the world again.
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Post by steellily on Jun 24, 2011 0:21:39 GMT -5
My mother decided that it was super important to talk to me about the bastard that did all this shit to me today. She still has contact with him and he is my brother's dad. She kept saying his name. It was like poison in my veins. This is why I don't go see my parents very often because this always happens. I dunno if she brings him up on purpose to see what my response will be or if she really has that much contact with the bastard. At least today she didn't contradict my insults at him. I guess that's a step...
I let it make me feel worthless when she does this. In her way she tries to be a good mom and in some ways she succeeds but as far as this goes...epic fail. I have been being more honest with her about my depression though which gets weird results. She still has that mentality of just get over it or you're just not trusting God enough. And she easily acknowledges that my brother has PTSD but not me. Never do I get acknowledged for anything that matters.
She drilled it into my head from birth that I have to be the perfect one. Well, I'm not. She'd hate me if she really knew me and that little 6 year old in me still just wants my mommy to hug me and believe me and tell me it'll all be okay.
On the plus side, I finally got a hug today. My daddy gave me one without my asking or anything. I nearly started crying. It's so weird. I don't realize how much I need hugs until my complete lack of human physical contact is broken and I never want to let go.
If I ever say my dad, I'm talking about my mom's 3rd husband who adopted me when I was 18. In spirit I think he has always been my dad and even though I didn't have him when I was a kid, I'm so blessed that I get to know him now. I always knew if given half a chance I'd be a daddy's girl...and am I. When he adopted me he gave me a light brite and an easy bake oven because I didn't have them when I was little and he wanted to make up for lost time. I consider my real birthday Father's Day because that's when he told the world that I'm officially his daughter. By that reasoning, I'm now 11 years old.
Wow I've not cried in a long ass time but talking about the dad I have now who is the dad I always dreamed of just makes my eyes sweat. It's a good cry because I'm so grateful for him. I'm a very lucky 29/11 year old to finally have a dad.
Ok rambles mcrambleson out.
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There are things I know I need to share but I hit a certain point and shut down...but it all catches up again in the end. I suppose resistance IS futile. 
So glad you did as I asked and came here, love. And, as you know, I put my money where my mouth is - I shared something I would never have because I couldn't ask you to do so if I wasn't willing to.