My journey so far

[Little2Nothing]

**POSSIBLE TRIGGER**


In 1995 when my mother died I had a overwhelming flood of memories and sadness. I had been able to suppress those things for years. Well, at least I though I had. Looking back I realize that my past followed me where ever I went. 

Soon after her death I began to write down some of those memories. I needed to tell my story. My wife knew some of what I had endured, but was unaware of the extent of abuse. It took me 16 years to finish what would become a book. The emotional struggle I had while writing was debilitating and I had to walk away from it for months before I could go back. My wife wanted to read it and after she finished she told me I should publish it. 

I was too ashamed to publish it as written, so I rewrote it, as a novel, and took out some of the worst parts, especially the sexual abuse. That I could not face until recently. Even now I mention it because I know that no one here knows who I am. Of all the things I endured, the beatings, abandonment, my mom trying to sell me to a stranger in another state, the violation of my person and being diminished as a human being was the worst and has all but destroyed my sense of self. 

I am in therapy and currently trying to navigate the shame and guilt I bear because of the sexual abuse. I hate myself. I do not believe that I deserve to be loved. I want that to change and I want my past suffering to allow me to be a help to others who have suffered. My intellect tells me that I was not the blame, but my wounded heart contradicts that at every turn. 

[Little2Nothing]

**Trigger Warning**

For most of my life I had longed for a connection to my mother. I needed her, when she put me in an orphanage at around 8 years old, I was inconsolable. I cried for days, sang her favorite song to myself and would weep because I felt so lost. After I got out of the home nothing changed. She was drunk most of the time and my stepdad was an alcoholic as well. He beat her and always made sure I knew her beating was because of me. My first day out of the home I ate the last piece of chicken which my stepsister also wanted. In the early hours of the morning, after he returned from the bar, he came into my room, dragged me to the living room and made me watch as he punished her on my behalf. 

Over time she hated me more and more. She blamed me for her pain and physical suffering. One time she spit in my face and let me know she wished I had died in her womb. No matter how poorly she treated me I still longed for her. That longing continued until the day she died. After my stepfather died I moved her closer to me and my family. That was a monumental mistake. She seemed to get worse with age.

I have viewed my longing for her as a weakness of character. How could you love or need someone who had such disgust for you? After all this time since her death I still feel an emptiness, a void that nothing seems to be able to fill. I struggle with that and many other issues. But, the "terminal aloneness" (someone else coined that, can't remember who) is oppressive and soul crushing.

Sorry this is so long, thanks for taking the time to read it.

[NarcKiddo]

It's not too long. Please don't apologise. Take as much space as you need. This is your journal.

I hope writing your experiences and turning them into a novel has helped you and I am glad to read you are in therapy. Nobody should have to have the experiences you did.

[Little2Nothing]

Thanks for the encouragement NarcKiddo. Everyone here has suffered unfairly. None of it can be undone, but hopefully it can be mitigated  Having the ability to express what is going on in me is a great help.

[Armee]

 

I'm glad you are here and telling your story more fully here. I'm sorry that you suffered under so very much cruelty and abandonment. It makes all the sense in the world why you would long for your mom even if you didn't want to because of what she put you through. One of course because its natural to want your mom even if we can't stand to be near our own...it's a normal longing...and 2 probably there's a lot of emotional flashbacks to the orphanage and being left there when you get those longings...it's your little self remembering that feeling.

It's crazy how much shame sexual abuse and assault throws on us.

[Little2Nothing]

Armee, I always held out the hope that my mother would love me. It is silly to feel that way because I don't believe she had the ability to give motherly love. My grandparents raised one brother, she gave one brother up for adoption (I learned this in my 30's), my other half brother and sister were placed in a different orphanage than me. I never met the brother and only met my sister about 20 years ago.

She never raised one of her offspring, so to expect her to show me what she couldn't give to any of us seems foolish now. I suppose that little boy who was abandoned is the part of me that is doing the longing. This injury is hard to navigate. 

[Papa Coco]

L2N

I'm very glad you found this forum. I understand the reasons why you decided to not publish the stories of the actual pain and confusion that has defined so much of your life. The need for anonymity is a real, and valid need, which is highly respected by the membership of this forum.

The way you write is impressive. Your story, as written here, touched my heart in a powerful way. I hope you continue to write and share. I hope the anonymity provided here allows you to feel free to share as little or as much as whatever makes you feel heard. We're here to support each other in whatever capacity we each want that support.

As you've noted, the people on this forum have many stories of neglect, abuse, sexual abuse, etc., so there isn't much need to worry about saying things that won't be believed or accepted. I hope that you continue to feel safe sharing your thoughts and stories here, not worried about shocking anyone. We all know the pain and loneliness of trauma. Most of us know the pain of feeling humiliated for being who we were told we are. You are among friends here. Even anonymously, we care about each other.

Again, I want to extend a very warm welcome.

[Little2Nothing]

Thanks Papa Coco. I do feel safe on this site. Being anonymous makes it easier to unburden myself of things I've kept hidden for over 60 years. In my earlier days I had done my best to bury the monsters from my past. As I got older these entombed memories would no longer stay buried. They rose from their tombs and overwhelmed me. Actually they were never really silent, but I was able to ignore them better then. 

I'm glad I found this place and am grateful for all the kindness I have met with here.

[Little2Nothing]

**Trigger Warning**

I added the TW after I originally posted this.  I apologize for neglecting it originally. 

I wrote this as I reflected on my relationship with my mother.

The day was cold
The sky was dark
When mother's pain began
With great travail and many tears
She birthed a little man

No joy arose
Within her heart
As she stared into his face
No caring look her visage bore
No tenderness or grace

With frigid soul
And pallid eye
Cold resentment filled her mind
The child she held would not be hers
No joy in him she'd find

This boy grew up
Without a trace
Of fond embrace or love
Instead harsh words and violent hands
All hope from him she drove

The days were long
The nights obscene
Security was gone
Obscurity became his friend
He lived life all alone

The years passed by
Mother long gone
The memories persist
Painful darkness tortures his soul
Hope, love engulfed in mist

There is no end
To tortured love
No balm to heal the wound
Just struggling days and endless nights
Until we find the tomb.

[Papa Coco]

L2N,

I'm 63. I was forcibly retired at age 60, due in part to COVID. I'm now a workaholic without a job. I realize too that my workaholism was likely driven in part by me not wanting to deal with the demons of my past. Being relaxed and undistracted by work and by raising a family for my entire life has now allowed my own trauma-brain to rise up and fill the space that my job used to fill. The new quiet in my life is very loud and hard to hide from.

Going into retirement has not been the happy thing I had imagined it would be. My ghosts and demons have a lot bigger stage to play on now.

[Papa Coco]

L2N

Wow. That poem you just posted. I just read it. Shivers are shooting up and down my spine. My Gosh! Thank you for sharing it.

[Little2Nothing]

I'm sorry Papa Coco. These things are persistant. Retirement has allowed memories more opportunity to torment me as well. Be of good courage in the end we will win. 

[Little2Nothing]

**Trigger Warning**

So this morning I am feeling very lost. I have this aching need deep inside me that I cannot touch. It's as if I need to reach out to someone, but I don't know who. It is a painful feeling that nothing seems to satisfy. I'm writing this hoping that somehow the need will at least be touch and yet it is unfulfilling. This hunger for unmet connection makes me sorrowful. Something is missing in me, a vital component in my soul that has been stolen. I know I will never get it back no matter how hard I try.

I have tried using mindfulness techniques to distract my mind, but sometimes it doesn't work. I am alone in my suffering, it is a storm I must face alone, no one can fill the need. Whatever it is, it is inside of me and I suppose the answer must lie there.

[Little2Nothing]

I have been doing a lot of writing lately. It is very helpful to me because I can express what I'm feeling. I'm embarrassed to say that I can write about these things, but am tongue tied when I attempt to verbalize them.

[Little2Nothing]

I wanted to share this poem that I wrote a few weeks back. I tried to post it earlier but it didn't seem to show up.

Though you wear a smile
Your eyes betray the sorrow that you feel
Your mask can't hide the pain inside
You fear what you'll reveal

Time and time again
You sought a friend to give you what you need
The truth is sad, you never find
The comfort that you seek

Specters from the past
Have come at last to goad with shame and guilt
Your mind is vexed with deep regret
For the life you have been dealt

All your hope is gone
You can't go on, surrounded by the past
Your voice is small and very thin
Feeble courage never lasts

You carry death within your breast
Its rot destroys your soul
Yet in this grave flickering hope remains
That someday you'll be whole.