Out of the Storm

**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. 

**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.

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.

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.

 :grouphug:

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.

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. 

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.

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.

**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.

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.

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.

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. 

**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.

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.

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.

Little2Nothing,

I feel you. What you're expressing here about the chronic loneliness and the desire to be touched deep down in your soul. I know that feeling well. It's trauma. I know it feels like you're alone, but I'm alone right next to you in our writing.

I have this quote I use all the time "I write to discover what I know" by Flannery O'Connor. Writing is so helpful. Like you, I get tongue tied when I speak verbally. I get nervous and my consciousness leaves my gut and heart and rises to the top of my head. My voice raises to a higher register, and I end up sounding like a crazy person. I have this terror that I won't be believed or that I'll be cut off before I can finish, so I try to say everything all at once. But when I write, I can take my time. Organize my thoughts. I end up learning about myself through what I write.

I have a book here that was recommended to me called The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. When I first started reading the paperback and listening to the audiobook (I do both. I learn visually and audibly), I thought it might be kind of a silly book. But by really listening to the audiobook over and over, I began to truly appreciate that I have the right to be creative. And I have the ability. And I have valid reasons for why I thought I didn't. It's a book I recommend to anyone who's struggling with feeling like they don't have the right to express in their own artful way. Art happens in anything. Art can be in cooking, writing, singing, painting, photography, sand sculptures...almost anything is done better when it's done in an artful way, and this book opened me up to accepting that I have the right to express myself. It moved me another mile forward in my lifelong journey of healing.

When I discover artists who move me, I pretty much always find that they are people who have come from struggle. A happy-go-lucky person can learn to write, but a tortured soul can put life into words. Life that people can feel and learn from. There are writers and there are artists. From what I read of your posts, you are more of an artist. Your words move me.

I'm sorry if I come on sounding kind of syrupy. But when people share their inner souls through any form of expression, I feel it deep down and can't stop myself from at least expressing to that person how much I enjoy accepting what they are offering. I live half of my life in a coastal community filled with local artists. Many of them are just run-of-the-mill hobbyists, but the really, truly good ones are those who are working out their pain by sharing it with the world through whatever expression they feel compelled to express. I see this as the difference between a hobby and a calling.

Thank you for sharing your poems. I like this one you just shared also. I feel the energy that you put into them. It feels like a connection. I live for connection. I'm so tired of feeling alone. That's art. It connects people who are open to be connected with.

Thanks Papa Coco. That book sounds interesting I am going to look for it. 

I tend to get lost in my writing. Everything fades to the background and, if the subject is deeply felt, I am exhilarated as the thoughts take shape. In a way it frees me from the bondage of trauma for the briefest moment. In that moment I am able to feel like I am worth something. 

**Trigger Warning**

I wrote this poem several months ago. It expresses how I felt at the time, although I trust that I will triumph over my past eventually. Thanks for reading it.

I'm not sure what happened, but I couldn't get spaces between the verses. 

Look back old man
You have not lived in vain

L2N,

I don't say these things lightly. I like to say positive things to people, but not by lying to them. When I say your poems send those wonderful chills through my spine, I am telling the honest to god truth. This poem did it to me again. Those chills are some kind of energy that is awakened in me through connection. Your fingers aren't writing these poems, your soul is. And my soul, for some reason, is reading them. It's connection. Art is connection.

In the post just before it, you describe something that the people who study happiness call Flow. Athletes call it Being in The Zone. I prefer to use the term Flow because I believe that when an activity has the ability to stop time, like writing does for you, (and also for me), that the reason it consumes our focus is because we have found the art that we came here on the earth to play in. Pablo Picasso said "Every child is an artist. The trick is to remain an artist after we grow up." Julia Cameron, in The Artist's Way, says "Our talent is God's gift to us. What we do with that talent is our gift back to God." [cautious disclaimer: I am not religious. I feel like God is not a "he" but is a force. The source of all unconditional love and the creative consciousness that gives life to our universe. I pray almost all day long, but I do so outside the limits of religious dogma. The Artist's Way fits with my belief. She's not religious either but expresses that same strong sense of connection, and spirit, and art, and unconditional love].

It's been my experience that when I try to learn something that isn't in my DNA (Piano, foreign languages, guitar, gardening) I struggle and only partially accomplish it. I "get by". But when I follow my heart and allow myself to learn what seems to be my calling, that's when time stands still for me, focus becomes possible, and success follows. To me, that's Flow. Like swimming in the stream that I was born to play in. And it leads to moments of joy and happiness and belonging.

When you say that time stands still when you focus on writing, that just tells me why your writing moves me. You're not a hobbyist. You're the real deal. You've found the talent/art that you were born to play in. You're putting your soul into your words. That's gotta be the reason why I gravitate toward them.

I hope you keep going with it. I find myself looking forward to reading your posts.

Wow, Papa Coco, that brought tears to my eyes. I'm speechless. All I can say is thank you!

L2N:

I don't see a fist bump emoji, so I'll use the chest bump emoji  :chestbump: From one compulsive writer to another, I enjoy our interactions.

:chestbump: I enjoy them as well. 

L2N

You've reignited my passion for writing. Just wanted you to know that.

I believe that when we share ourselves with others, we influence, whether we realize it or not. You have influenced me to explore my own love for writing.

Thanks for that.

:heythere:

Papa Coco I am glad to hear that. I can't wait to read some of your creations. 

Sometimes I feel like a ghost walking in the land of the living - unseen, unheard and unneeded. When these feelings come I withdraw and avoid contact with anyone. Once I isolate then the symptoms seem to snowball. I isolate and then am depressed because I make my self be alone. It is foolish to put myself in this position, because although I wish for connection I reject it when I receive it. 

Because I see myself as inherently unworthy I believe I create situations where I feel rejected. Being rejected is normal and, I hate to say it, comfortable to me. Then I become irritable and angry. I then begin to feel sorry for myself. Usually I do not recognize the spiral and as I plummet into self pity it all becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

Many things precipitate this, it could be a memory, a sound, a smell or a look on someone's face. But when it begins I seem powerless to stop it. I hate being this way. I feel weak and helpless. Very seldom I can pull myself out of this destructive path and, yet, I suppose if I can do it once then there is hope that I can do it more often. 

Yeah. That 100%.

But recognizing the pattern is the first step. Even after the fact. Eventually you'll recognize it sooner in the process. Then you'll learn ways to interupt it. It's so dang slow but there is hope. And the fact you see that pattern means you are going toward healing. Keep going!

Armee, I had to think about that for a minute, but your right. If I see the pattern I can eventually fix it. Thanks for that!!!!

L2N,

I'm glad you shared this. There's nothing like the support of friends who know a bit about what you are sharing.

I've also felt that same sort of thing where I choose to be "comfortably uncomfortable" with the devil that I know. My past poor self-image. I hate it, but I know how to live with it. Being proud of myself is something I used to be punished for, so I am NOT comfortable being comfortable. But I'm getting better. Little by little I'm getting better.

I agree with Armee. Recognizing the triggers as TRAUMA is the most important first step.

You're in my thoughts.

Sorry I wasn't super clear. Your post really reminded me of my trials through trying to get a handle on dissociation. At first I didn't even know i was dissociating (but I do quite badly). The very first step was just knowing it was happening. From there I could look for clues it was happening in the moment. Eventually I caught the signs earlier. That's important because once you're deep in a trauma reaction you feel very powerless. But once you train yourself to see it sooner you have more power to do something. I'm gonna be honest that took years not months.

Papa Coco for years I thought I was odd and completely different from everyone around me. Knowing that I am not alone and that my reactions are perfectly normal for someone who has had trauma is a comfort to me. We, through a horrendous twist of fate, are family in that we share the same struggle and are able to encourage, empathize and strengthen one another. 

Armee My not getting what you said right away was a testament to my density, not the clarity of what you wrote. Sometimes, for me, the simplest things allude me and I have to shake myself out of my stupor to get it. Your response pointed out the obvious that I simply missed, that is, being able to see the pattern means that work can be done to break the pattern. I will say that I appreciate the wisdom and encouragement of folks like you. So, don't be sorry and know I deeply appreciate your input.

What a nice way to put it: You said, "We, through a horrendous twist of fate, are family in that we share the same struggle and are able to encourage, empathize and strengthen one another." 

This is a family I'm proud to be a part of.

Visiting the men in prisons is inspiring. Very inspiring. What a great opportunity for you to experience these men and to see their struggles as clearly as you see them.

It's believed by trauma therapists that childhood trauma is the greatest pandemic of the entire world. If people could stop traumatizing children, only those few who are born evil would be in prison, and world peace would become possible for all the rest of us.

The greatest sadness I face each day is being able to see the pain of the world that surrounds me. Often, it's not even my pain that brings me to tears, but the pain of those who've been dealt even deeper struggles than I was.

When I was first diagnosed with PTSD (in 2015 CPTSD was not really recognized) I was in a very bad way. After I got out of the hospital I wanted to find a Psychiatrist and seek out a therapist. The first Psychiatrist I saw was very unempathetic. In the course of our conversation my childhood came up and her reaction was pretty devastating. She balled her hands into fists and then rubbed them under her eyes and said, "You were feeling down and then thought, Oh boohoo I had a hard childhood. You need to get over that." I was speechless.

The next Psychiatrist loaded me up on a cocktail of meds. I was living in a haze. The therapy I received was not trauma informed. I spent the next few years going from therapist to therapist. After several years I stopped the meds, big mistake, it took me nearly 6 months to wean myself off. I will never take them again. The meds were of little value anyway.

What did help my depression was a dietary change I made to control my diabetes (type 1). The lessening of my depression was an unexpected bonus. At this point in my journey I am seeing a therapist who is diligent to inform herself about trauma and has helped me greatly. I will not see a Psychiatrist again because they are pill pushers. I received no practical advice or help from any of the doctors I saw. I trusted them and they failed me. 

As I said, I have been very fortunate to find a therapist that thinks outside of the box. She got me involved in a study, that she and I work on together, that is looking into effective ways to help folks with CPTSD and DD. Though I just started I believe it is going to be beneficial. We have been doing parts work which initially I had a hard time with. It seemed odd and silly. However, I gave it a try and have found it helpful as well. Trauma is so interconnection with mental health that I don't understand why it is not a foundational part of training in therapy. 

I have had bad experiences with psychiatrists, medications, and CBTs, but wow. Balling up her fists, rubbing her eyes, and saying "Boo hoo"???? That's malpractice. That's worse than anything I've experienced in a CBT's office. She should be doing jail time for that behavior.

I'm very glad you found a therapist who is helping. It makes a 100% difference. The wrong T's make it worse. the right ones bring hope.

I'm glad you found a right one.

Papa Coco, my T knows of this psychiatrist. She has heard similar stories. It was pretty devastating when the psychiatrist said that. I was already in a state of confusion not understanding what was wrong with me. That about threw me over the edge. Unfortunately I have developed a distrust of doctors. I feel more like an inconvenience to them than a patient who was being cared for. 

I had a couple of T's that I felt were incompetent. Fortunately I have found a T that is helpful and is taking it slow. 

When depression hits I find that eating a healthy diet and exercise are better than any pill I could take. Psychiatrists are the most unhelpful MD's I have ever seen. They simply prescribe. It seems modern medicine is trained to push pills. 

Wow! That is awful! I literally feel like I was punched in the gut just reading what she said to you! That person should not be practicing. How awful. I'm so glad you are safely with someone good now and I feel the same about psychiatrists generally tho personally I haven't been to one.

I meant to respond to your post about parts work. It's been really helpful to me tho I felt the same way and sometimes still do about it being a bit weird, and I worried it would make aspects of dissociative symptoms worse (like cause more fragmentation and differentiation) but it has made it better and more integrated generally. It gives space between me and the trauma reactions. I've also seen it really work for connecting the parts of my mind that store traumatic material with the rest of my mind which means when I am triggered I am less likely to get stuck in the blackhole of flashbacks (tho this week is an exception to that). Dollyvee I think recommended a book or podcast by someone who wrote a book that I like for those of us with more dissociative symtpoms...Joanne Twombly...check her out. Thanks for the rec, Dolly. Anyway yeah I was very resistant to parts work but see it helping me, especially in combination with emdr techniques.

The way I think about it that feels less woowoo is that trauma and our reactions are stored in all these discrete closed off parts of our brains...these bundles of neurons that wire and fire together, but that are not connected to the rest of our neurons very efficiently or at all thiugh there might be loose connections to other parts that guard or are related to the trauma (protector parts etc). These bundles of neurons are what parts are to me.

But when there's a trigger I get dropped into one of these parts of my brain that is all trauma and not connected to the nontrauma parts of my brain and I don't have a way out because those neurons aren't connected to the rest of me. I see parts work as building the neuronal network between nontrauma brain and the trauma pockets so that when I get triggered I also have access to everything else and can leave that part of my mind...2 way traffic, building new freeway on ramps and offramps...

Armee, your definition of parts work really helps. My greatest fear was being led into some form of DID that would make things worse. But seeing the parts as you describe makes perfect sense. Thank you for taking the time to share that. Much appreciated. 

Little2Nothing, I agree with what Armee says about IFS work. It's definitely not DID, but it is about how our emotional memories hide in different places, only to be revived when today's emotions match the emotions that drove it into hiding when we were younger.

I credit IFS work for most of the healing I've done this past year. Getting to know the various parts of myself, and how they rally around to help, has given a lot of relief and a good bit stronger control over my emotional regulation. In The Body Keeps the Score, Bessel Van der Kolk helps explain IFS work well also. He cites that it was invented in the 1880s, but hasn't been really utilized until just these last couple of years. I think of it as the best long-term treatment I have found so far.

Whenever my therapist finds a part, he asks me if I can tell how old the part is. When I say "7" or "14" he knows when that part split out in my head. We talk to that part with a little gestalt play. I need to be emotionally connected to the part to make this work. This is not intellectual knowledge, we are working with emotional knowledge. My body and emotions need to be engaged. My head can take a break. My rational brain is strong and healthy. It's my emotional and physical consciousnesses that are confused. Once I feel like I understand and "feel" how that part was trying to help me, I can often sort of "bring it into the fold" and live in a grayer area; less black and white. Gray is where life is. The good happens with the bad. I've lived in b/w world where it was either all good or all bad. That's what I call my Cptsd-bipolar-coaster ride. Trauma keeps me focused only on one mood or the other. IFS helps me accept that life is all the moods blended healthily together.

Van Der Kolk's book is very informative on how trauma is formed and how it is best treated.

I woke up this morning feeling weary. I hate the time change and because I rise very early in the morning it seems to make it worse. I don't know what today holds for me. Though I am feeling well except for the fatigue.

I see my T today and though I look forward to the time I also dread it. We are doing parts work and there are some parts I would rather not look into. It's silly because those many facets of myself are always with me. So far the work we have done is very triggering for me. After each session I spend the next few days brooding over what we have done. 

Through all of this my wife has been a rock. I have become more accustomed to talking with her about how I feel and how my visits with my T are going. At first it was difficult to share with her because I felt like I was dumping too much on her. I am finding that having someone close to me that I can talk to is extremely helpful.

My dogs (2 Aussies) are always a comfort. They seem to know when I'm having a bad day and stay close to me. They are the nicest dogs I've ever had. The female will lay next to me on the couch and lay her head in my lap. Dogs are such a gift. 

Just rambling today, currently my spirit is quiet. My day will start soon, as for now I'm drinking coffee and enjoying a time of quietness. I will enjoy this while it last.

Good to hear that your wife is such a rock. That's a huge help.

And those Aussie shepherds are amazing dogs. My son and his wife got one two years ago. She is the most psychic dog I've ever experienced. Sometimes I SWEAR I can hear her thinking about me when I'm not even with her. She loves her family, and has some odd connection to me. I visit there only once a month or so, but she won't leave me alone the whole time I'm there. She lays on my lap. She comes to live with us when the kids take vacations. And when she's not with me, I swear I feel her thinking about me.

That's really awesome that you have two of those Aussie Shepards.

PC Aussies are awesome dogs. They are extremely loving and loyal. 

Trigger Warning - CSA

Of all the things I endured growing up, the worst was the betrayal and manipulation of being used for another's perverse desires. That has caused the greatest pain and sorrow. It is also the last thing I have ever revealed about my life growing up. The first time I admitted to this was in 2023 when I revealed it, very reluctantly, to my T. 

That revelation opened up a floodgate of despair and anguish. The act of saying it out loud and shedding light on the violation brought weeks of shame and agony that I feel today. I speak of it here because I know the folks here understand and because I do not have to look anyone in the eye when I talk about it. The shame would be overwhelming. I am a stranger to all of you so that gives me some anonymity.

Anyway, I wrote the following poem to express how I feel. Again thanks for reading this.

Your voice is gone

 Your eyes are young
As light from shadows flee

Years come and go
That you could never be

The weight grows dense
You fear the growing din

Hope seems so far
To chase the fear away

You have a real gift for poetry.

Thanks PapaCoco, I really appreciate the encouragement. 

That is a beautifully written poem. Well done. I hope writing it has given you some comfort.

NarcKiddo, thanks for the compliment. It does help to write, I feel like I can express myself better that way.

I have posted so many negative things about my past and how I'm feeling. So I thought I would write something a little more positive. Hope this is helpful to other folks.

Out of the storm
My heart is free
No tempest rages round me

Do not despair
Your life is yours
With new wings your spirit soars

Good things will come
The bad eschew
Peaceful days will be your due

You stumbled once
But now you're strong
No dark foe shall linger long

Out of the storm
In hope I soar
With despair I'll live no more.

Hi Little2Nothing,
I read your poem, and it is lovely.
Hope  :)

Thank you Hope67, I really appreciate that.

I have had limited contact with my FOO for nearly 40 years. The last time I spent a holiday with them there was a huge fight and as usual the day was ruined. At that time I had just been married and was living 400 miles away from any of them. My wife and I traveled back to my home town to see all of them. It was a disaster and after being away from the chaos for a few years it was also a shock. I determined at that moment that I would never subject my new family to them again.

That's not to say that I haven't on occasion seen any of them, I have. But never to a family function. I has one brother, who was not raised with me, that I was in contact with quite often. He and I had no bad history. When we got together it was always civil and enjoyable. The toxic part of my family would be excluded most of the time. If I did see them it was in a controlled public place.

I have to admit that there are times I miss my dysfunction family members, not in a nostalgic way, but because they are my family. Even with those feelings I avoid them because I know no good would come from bringing them back into my life. 

I especially shielded my children from these people. My mother saw them very seldom and never alone. I would not let them go and stay with grandma because she was one of the meanest people I have ever known. Their exposure to her was every few years. Nothing consistent. My M protested often in heated phone calls, but I would not relent and flatly told her that her alcohol problem, language and anger were the reason she couldn't see them more often.

My M, stepfather and several siblings have passed and are no longer a problem. My kids never really knew my parents well. They know grandma was a very sick woman. I'm sure they will eventually regret not getting to know her, but that isn't their fault, it is mine. I will bear the weight of my own choice. I hope, in the long run, they will understand that I kept them from her for their own good. Then again, maybe it won't be an issue for them. I suppose I will never really know. 

Little2Nothing,

I'm impressed by how well you shielded your family from your FOO. In your last paragraph you said, "...My kids never really knew my parents well. They know grandma was a very sick woman. I'm sure they will eventually regret not getting to know her, but that isn't their fault, it is mine. I will bear the weight of my own choice...."

I just want to say that from where I'm sitting, this wasn't your fault, it was your M's fault. The word fault makes it sound like you did the wrong thing. You didn't. You did the right thing. The fact that your kids needed protecting from a monstrous person forced your hand to doing the right thing. So, from where I'm sitting, I think you could safely rephrase that line to, "...but that isn't their fault, it's hers[/u]...."

That being said, I agree that you were between a rock and a hard place. Every kid wants to know their grandparents, but she was dangerous and a soul crusher. A parent's top job is protect and nurture their children. I think you held that job with honor and respect for yourself and your children.

I wish more people would protect their kids the way you did.

I agree with Papa Coco. And from where I'm sitting I think it could be less likely than you think that your children will eventually regret not getting to know your mother. After all, they have spent some time in her presence. Children pick up on the atmosphere around them much more than one might think. From what you say I doubt your mother had a pleasant atmosphere around her. If they had never met her there would be a possibility that she would get some mythical importance to them - the grandma they were prevented from meeting.

I am very glad I did not see my maternal grandmother all that much. I was never protected from her and time in her company was utterly vile. It was simply the happy circumstances of geography and the fact she disliked me so had no desire to spend time with me that meant I spent as little time with her as I did.

Thanks PC and NK, sometimes its hard to see the positive.

I was ruminating recently on memories, the present and my future. I have to admit that I felt extremely hopeless and helpless. That hopelessness is reflective of my life over 40 years ago. As a child I was powerless against the rage and abuse of my caregivers. That powerlessness produced a profound negativity about life in general.

When things go wrong, or looked like they would go wrong, my reaction borders on near despair. I overreact to things small and large. I read into peoples actions without a clue to their true motive. I live in anticipation that the "other shoe will soon drop." I assume the worst and expect the worst. It is a vicious cycle which leads to despair and hopelessness.

Yet that hopelessness is a mere emotional reaction, it is how I'm programmed to respond. Yet I live every day performing hopeful acts. I have realized that going to therapy is an act of hope. I'm looking for healing and resolution of my past. Reading books on recovery, writing my thoughts here on OOTS, practicing mindfulness and participation in a study on CPTSD and DD are all acts of hope.

Sometimes my mind and emotions lie to me. My trauma works overtime to produce a constant state of emptiness. Looking around me I have much to be hopeful about - my wife, my kids, and my grandkids bring happiness. I have good friends who care about me and have stood by me for 30 years. The traumatized part of me wants to negate these things, wants me to constantly swim in a pool of darkness. It succeeds more often than not.

It seems strange to me that fear, sorrow and emptiness always seem to take the ascendancy in my thinking. Even in the face of good and beneficial things it seems to win. The more that I'm aware of my condition the harder that darkness seems to fight for survival. I truly want it to die. I want to stand over its grave and bid it good riddance. My therapist has told me that these reactions were survival mechanism and that is probably true, but now they have become rancid and putrid, they have no redeeming value, they only wish to keep me in a perpetual black hole where no light or goodness can penetrate.

I am determined to pursue hopeful things in the hope that this determined hopelessness will eventual be rendered inert.

It is such a huge act of hope to start healing. You are doing so well being willing to face this stuff. Many people never develop the ability to do what you are doing, just trying.

The despair, over-reactions, emptiness, all those feelings that come up that feel disproportionate...this is so understandable (and common). It took awhile but I finally get that when these things happen it's not because I am overreacting to the present but because I have been triggered and am now reacting to and FROM the past.

When this is happening, when things feel so so bad? That's a flashback without pictures. You have been dumped with no warning or choice into the part of your brain that went thru some of the worst things a child can go thru and that part of your brain starts to respond to the present situation too. It takes some work to be able to take back over as the adult. I found that once I got dumped in a trauma section of my brain thru triggering, I didn't have a way to get back out and so I'd spend days overreacting and in despair until something managed to reset my brain. All out of my control. I had to actually build like a neuro-pathway from the parts of my brain that hold the past to present adult me so I could voluntarily travel back and forth rather than be dumped and trapped in there.

Thanks to the dissociative barriers we had to build there are not connections in our brains that should be there because we had to close those parts of our mind off to survive. So traumatic reminders get instant access like a trapdoor but we can't willingly come and go at first. This is where parts work comes in. It's been really effective for me and like you I hated the idea at first and resisted.

Oh and grandparents...I thought my kids didn't understand that my mom was messed up and also felt bad for not letting them spend more time with her. But once she passed my son started talking about how mean and crazy she was. They see these things. They may not regret not knowing them though they may regret the idea of not having loving grandparents. Are your wife's parents in their life and healthy?

Armee, that all makes sense to me. Yet, it is extremely difficult. Though I have started to communicate more with my wife and she cares deeply, there is still a big part of me that stays hidden. I feel so weak and unlovable. I am embarrassed by that weakness and am afraid that the core of who I am will be revealed and drive her and others away.

The emotional reactions I have are intense and unpredictable. My T has been helping me see the impact of the trauma I endured. What you have written is very helpful, because it paints an accurate picture of what I am feeling and why. I really appreciate you taking the time to write your response, it makes me not feel as alone as I usually do.

TW SA

During a session with my therapist about my main abuser, she said what he did wasn't about sex, but about power. That statement angered me. Of course it was about sex, for him. The power was just a bonus for that monster. When she said that it seemed to me to be an excuse for what he had done. The violation I endured was perpetrated by a perverse man wanting to fulfill his deep perverted needs. He wanted to gratify himself at my expense. That goes for the others who abused me. Saying it was about power seemed to minimize the real crime. 

Adults who prey on children for sexual gratification are a special kind of beast. They are slaves to their propensities and the children they harm are just meat to them. A commodity, something to be used and thrown away. While he was enjoying his "power" my future was stolen. I have suffered the effects of his and others despicable behavior for nearly 60 years. He derived sexual pleasure from grooming, frightening and using me. Those things fed his twisted desires. From start to finish it was all about his sexual fulfillment. 

I had to get that off my chest. The whole encounter angered me. I know it would never be her intention to trigger me and I never told her what I was feeling, which is unfair to my T. So when I see her tomorrow I will talk to her about it. 

Thanks for saying that. When you share with your T it will be helpful for many, for her to hear that perspective, plus healthy to get some of that anger expressed.

I struggled with some of the same thoughts about the gang rape that was set up to be perpetrated against me after rejecting the advances of an old man. That situation was more a mix of both power and gratification. Getting to take what they want no matter what. But I did have a hard time with the power vs gratification question. It's both, and especially in combination both are horrid things to do to a human and especially a child. I am so so so sorry they used you in that way and harmed you for life. Right now it's a wound. I feel confident that one day with honesty to yourself, compassion for younger you, and open communication with your T and wife that this will become a scar instead of an open wound.  Gentle safe nontouch hugs from a stranger far away. 

You're right to discuss it with your T. I also think it is probably good that you did not choose to communicate the anger as you were feeling it, but have instead processed some of your thoughts in advance of sharing it with her. Of course a good therapist will be able to handle whatever emotion you throw at them in the moment, but I don't think it is necessarily always the best thing for us to do. My T once triggered me so badly (over a very simple administrative matter) that I nearly sacked her. This was nearly two years ago and I still have not told her about that!

I'm not sure it is helpful to categorise the intentions of an abuser - or even possible. We cannot ever know precisely what their motivation is, in the same way that we can never truly know what somebody else is thinking. Even if someone says what they are thinking, they may put a spin on it depending on the audience. At any rate, that is what my T says, and she therefore makes me concentrate on what I think and we talk about that. At some point you and your T might find it very informative to discuss just why you got so upset at the suggestion that the motivation was power rather than sex. Perhaps not now if you are still feeling raw about it. A big emotional reaction is always something to note and explore when the time is right. Your T has inadvertently touched a raw nerve - but the surface issue may not be the full picture of what is triggering you.

Maybe by looking at the perpetrator, your T is somehow "explaining away" their actions. And perhaps there should be no "reflection" whatsoever regarding the perpetrator. This is a sub-human who doesn't deserve your time or "understanding" in any form. I think I understand your anger. I've spent my whole life trying to "understand" others motives. I had to to survive. The result is I've "wasted" my life on others?!? I've no idea who "I" am now. Why should I pay someone to analyze other people, let alone an abuser? How does that help me? Does it help me? Perhaps answering that question will clarify the feelings that came up.

Littel2Nothing,

I really got swept away by your comments that we were just meat to them. [TRIGGER WARNING: Childhood Sexual Abuse--body memories without cognitive memories]>>> As I read it, I felt it. I have very chopped up memories of my abuser. I was seven. He was an adult. My cognitive memories are so chopped up that I really can't place how it was that he got me alone to do what he did, nor do I have any idea how many times it happened. I woke up in the classroom in third grade a few times having no idea where I'd been for the past hour or two. Almost like alien abductions, I experienced complete 1 to2 hour time losses at school on more than one occasion. But what my body remembers is what he smelled like, his body heat, visions of the thick black body hair on his arms, and...as I read your comments, I suddenly remembered feeling a spiritual sense of him having no soul. Like he had absolutely NO compassion for me as a human being. I have always remembered feeling abandoned by God because I somehow recall having prayed so hard for God to make him to stop, but God ignored me and the man...just...wouldn't...stop. It literally felt like he was not human. Like he was a cold-blooded alligator enjoying a meal.

So, I REALLY, truly understand your anger. I feel anger for what you went through, which revives my personal anger that these men are soulless and completely incapable of feeling the pain they are inflicting. Sometimes I feel like I've grown past the anger. Like I've accepted that psychopaths exist with us and they "know not what they do" and that my forgiveness of them has brought me peace. But then, every now and then, I remember how horrific it is to be caught in their snares, and I realize I haven't made peace with it at all.

I think this trigger for me, from your sharing, is a gift that I can use as I explore the way my life goes in and out of acceptance. I've been feeling like I'm DID or Bi-Polar or something. Like...if I've forgiven these people, why am I still traumatized? 

I just read an internet article on the 18 things that identify a person who had a traumatic childhood, and I was able to connect with 17 of them. I shook my head and thought, but my childhood wasn't that bad, so HOW do I have 17 of the 18 traits? (the only one I didn't have was a sense of wanting to lash out aggressively).  I think you've provided a much-needed spark for me to stop hiding again from the horror of being with someone who has no soul. No connection to other human beings.

You shared a deep part of yourself today here which has blessed me with a revival of something I need to address in myself...my own anger and unmitigable frustration at how I was consumed like a meal by someone who had no right to do what he did.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having the courage or compulsion to share it. Not addressing this anger in myself allows it to fester unnoticed. I really want to work through this for myself as you work through it in your own life.

Thanks for showing me that I'm not alone in this anger and for giving me a sense that the anger is real and its justified and it isn't going away just because I'm feeling calm every now and then. My anger for what was done to you, gives me permission to feel it for what was done to all of us, myself included.

Little2, Papacoco, I hope anger can help. I hope for anything that could help you. I cannot relate to these experiences, not by a long shot. But I sympathize and support as much as possible. I am so very sorry for your abuse. Please accept if you can my effort at understanding something totally incomprehensible.

I know the anger made me vigilante to watch over my kids. And now later in life my grandkids. 

The anger also eats at the core of my being. It robs me of peace and joy. I cannot conceive of how to forgive so heinous a violation. I feel trapped by the guilt, shame and sorrow I have. 

My heart goes out to anyone who has had their personhood violated, such crimes should elicit the harshest punishment. Rape, sexual abuse of children, etc. Is rarely punished to the degree it deserves. That is triggering in itself. 

Society, or at least the legal system, places little weight to these evil deeds. A child's life is only worth a few years of punishment, but mine will continue until the day I die. 

PC, it breaks my heart that you endured CSA. Those experiences make us brothers who have survived insurmountable odds. 

What they did didn't break us though we struggle in the aftermath. We can't forget it, we can't change it, but we can encourage one another until we find some semblance of healing and peace. 

Armee, I am sorry that happened to you. You are such an encourager and care deeply about others. I am so glad you take the time to respond to me. 

NK I appreciate your comments and advice. I will share what my T says after we talk. You are right that it is good I didn't express my anger immediately. 

Chart, thanks for your input and empathy. 

Today there is a calming breeze and I am sitting here enjoying its freshness. Bees are hovering around the bush by the window and it is somewhat soothing to watch them be busy doing their jobs. Right now I can see the beauty of nature all around me, it started with a gorgeous sunrise. The cheerful song of God's feathered songsters brought tears to my eyes. 

I am grateful for this respite. It is as if God directed everything around me to speak peace to me today. These days are far and few between, but when they come it gives me hope. Not everything is ugly and cruel. I just wanted to share something positive.

L2N,
 I love this post (#64).

 I hope you have occasion to share many more like this.  :hug:

Best,
-Slashy

Quote from: Little2Nothing on April 19, 2024, 03:53:47 PMToday there is a calming breeze and I am sitting here enjoying its freshness. Bees are hovering around the bush by the window and it is somewhat soothing to watch them be busy doing their jobs. Right now I can see the beauty of nature all around me, it started with a gorgeous sunrise. The cheerful song of God's feathered songsters brought tears to my eyes.

I am grateful for this respite. It is as if God directed everything around me to speak peace to me today. These days are far and few between, but when they come it gives me hope. Not everything is ugly and cruel. I just wanted to share something positive.

:)  :)

I like to read positive things in among the horrors. I especially like descriptions of nature and animals, including bees and my favourite bumblebees.

I'm happy your environment is speaking peace today and that you are feeling hope. :sunny:

Little2Nothing,

Nice share. The sun is shining today here. I think I need to follow your lead and go sit on the porch with a cup of coffee and find a moment of peace.

Enjoy your day,
PC.

I'm sitting here listening to the old Italian Crooners and it is making me feel so sad. 

They bring back such a rush of memories. Mostly sad, but for some reason I can't bring myself to turn them off. 

They make me miss something, but I really don't know what. Maybe it is a form of mourning. 

L2L,

There are times when sad music or sad movies are what I feel like I need for some reason. Music has a powerful power over us. But there are times when my own sadness wants to be respected, and sad music actually helps me feel connected.

For me, listening to upbeat music is only appropriate when I feel like I handle it. If I listen to upbeat music when I want sad music, the upbeat music just grates on my nerves like sandpaper.

I hope the crooners gave you a nice friendly visit with the sad parts of you that just wanted to be crooned for a while.

You may be onto something. It may be a form of mourning. And mourning has a purpose too.

TW
The realization hit me today that this escapade through suffering will never end. The perpetual sadness and memories are endless.

I want to scream in rage at tje injustice of it all. How do you navigate all of this? Therapy is helpful but only so far. Every day is a struggle, and every effort to heal feels fruitless. I don't know who I am or who I should be. I feel fake and empty.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

 :hug:
I hear you and empathize L2N. I sometimes wonder how much of my suffering is due to being an HSP (highly sensitive person). So many people on this forum strike me as HSP's, you included. I might be wrong but we seem to just "feel" so much more intensely. That's my impression. And thus the pain is also that much more. PapaCoco has often talked about this. I don't know what our "consolation" is for being hsp. For the moment I've yet to identify any concrete advantages. The only thing that comes to mind is perhaps a deeper spiritual understanding. For me that's Buddhism, but I've yet to achieve any marked diminution of my daily pain from that. Perhaps my actual knowledge and practice is lacking. Wish I could help more. Hugs if that's ok.
 :hug:

Thanks Chart. I do feel deeply which I think allows me to empathize with others suffering. I think it makes my own pain more acute. 

L2N,
 I completely sympathize with your frustration. What happened to you was not your choice and not your fault. Now here you are left to try to clean up the mess.

 I've realized with creeping horror that I have *many* more episodes buried in my head than i have which I remember. I think the point of therapy isn't to somehow dig them all up and 'process' them, but simply get to the point where the past is no longer interfering with the present and the future.

 I truly believe we all can attain that.

Best wishes,
-Slashy

Hi Little2Nothing,
I also think that music is so powerful in how it affects our emotions, and you related to a sense of mourning, and that definitely takes time.  I hope that tomorrow is a kinder day, whatever happens.
 :hug:
Hope  :)

Hope, music is powerful. There are some songs the really speak to me and move me to tears. There is a kind of comfort in their sadness.

I have been in therapy for nearly two years with the same T. I can see some of the progress I have made, though at times I think it has been too slow. Personally I would like to deal with things more quickly. My T, however, thinks moving slower is safer and will be more effective. I suppose it would be hard to just rip the bandage off of 16 years of abuse and not expect issues. 

The study I'm involved in (TopDD) has a lot of good information. The process so far has been to learn how to stay grounded, deal with memories, etc. I will say that all these processes are simple in theory, but very difficult to implement. One element is knowing your triggers, or at least recognizing when you are being triggered. This is very difficult for me. Sometimes I am already caught up in the emotion and trying to bring it under control is no easy task.

Today is one of those days when I feel nothing. I'm neither happy nor sad, I am just empty. Though I guess "empty" is a feeling. I'm writing this knowing that someone may read it. That gives me connection and assures me that I am not alone. The worst part of CPTSD, for me, is the sense of isolation and loneliness. At the moment I am by myself and that loneliness is magnified. Later my family will be here (wife and kids) and I will not be physically alone. However, that doesn't mean the sense of loneliness will abate. Connection is hard for me.

Probably none of that makes any sense. The one thing about OOTS is it gives me an outlet and a sense of belonging. Though this is all anonymous and none of you really know me, I take comfort in associating with folks who have been where I've been and consequently can relate to my story.

"The worst part of CPTSD, for me, is the sense of isolation and loneliness. At the moment I am by myself and that loneliness is magnified. Later my family will be here (wife and kids) and I will not be physically alone. However, that doesn't mean the sense of loneliness will abate. Connection is hard for me.
Probably none of that makes any sense."

 It makes perfect sense, actually.   :yes:

 If I wasn't so very much the same way, I'd probably still be married.

 Stay strong,
-Slashy
 

It all makes perfect sense and nearly any of us could have written it word for word.

I don't know if it helps. Me and my T went too fast at first. It doesn't work. There are so many issues with going fast but one really big one is you end up triggered or dissociated during therapy itself and that time in therapy spent in those states outside the window of tolerance means effective healing work can't take place. So you are essentially wasting that time. There are many many other reasons to go slow, but that is one. Two years isn't long for trauma and dissociation. I'm going on 5.5 years now. I really hope to be done by the end of this year but realistically it might be another full year. But there's been massive improvement along the way it's not like 2 or 5 or 6 years of not feeling better. So please don't feel bad it's taking awhile. It does. But this is intricate work being done. Reworking how our brain and nervous system functions. Keep going!

Thanks, Armee, I always appreciate you wisdom. I will defer to my T's guidance. I can see how going too fast could cause major problems.

Slashy, it is helpful to know that others have the same issues. 

Hi Little2Nothing,
Going at a pace that is slower is most likely a good thing.  Rushing it could be potentially damaging.  I think it takes a significant amount of time.  I think you're doing well - making progress.

Hope  :)

My mother and I had a volatile relationship. We got along sometimes, but when she was upset it was difficult to be around her. When I ran away at 13 our relationship was cordial almost sterile. I can't remember that she ever asked me how I was, where I was staying, if I was getting enough to eat, etc. It never entered her mind.

Living on the street was difficult, especially in the winter. Shelter was not readily available and back then no one was worried about hobos and bums. In the area where I lived there were no soup kitchens or shelter that you could go to for the night. I had to fend for myself. 

Over the years I thought that I had forgiven her. She wasn't really in my life and I would only see her under controlled conditions. I kept her from my kids, except for the brief period when she lived with us. She didn't care when I got married. Was never particularly fond of her grandkids. 

Now I find myself thinking about her more than I ever did before. She abandoned me, ridiculed me, let me go hungry, let me have inadequate clothing, and didn't bat an eye when I was sleeping in a school yard. I don't know why she did all of that and I suppose I never will. 

But, right now, I feel an anger toward her I have never felt before. She was my mother, why didn't she love me or take care of me? I am angry because she had me, her last child, even after she had abandoned every other baby she birthed. I am angry about the way I was raised, about the orphanage, scavenging for food, having shoes with holes in the soles. I am angry about her taking me to my abusers house, trying to give me to a strange man for money. I am angry that she made me carry the guilt of her beatings.

Most of all, I am angry for being angry. This is all in the past and I can't seem to rise above it. I wallow in its sorrow, groveling for someone to care and knowing no one could conceivable understand the anguish that cripples me almost daily. I am a caricature of a man, lost, fumbling with no sense of normalcy. I will carry this to the grave. I feel like I am allowing her past abuse to continue to abuse me. 

Little2, if pain were a commodity and a child came to you, in pain, and asked you if you would help them. What would you do? I think you would look into that child's eyes and you would know their suffering. You would see the trauma etched in their young face and your heart would surge. "Yes," you would say, "Give me your pain, you do not deserve what you have suffered. Give it to me, I will take it all. You are too young and I am so sorry for your hurts, though I too am blameless. But I cannot bear to see one so innocent suffer as I did."
Am I wrong? Would you not do that?

So that child is you. And you, the adult is carrying the pain of you the child. You are in pain so that the child in you can, even if just a little, be free of that pain.

The suffering you are now enduring is the validation of the suffering you endured as a child. It is the very proof of a love for yourself that you never got from those that created you.

You are suffering because you love yourself. Please never doubt your capacity for love.  Let that love grow out of the cracks of suffering. Let it continue to grow and grow making shade and soothing the blindness of the child's pain. It is your guide. Follow it, stay with it, hold it tight. Take it into you, and then you will perhaps see, feel, hear or touch a hard joy.

Through no fault of your own you never had a mother, but to all your credit you have always had love. I admire you beyond what I can put into words.

I have never thought of suffering as a form of self love. But, I can see how one might conclude that. 

I never particularly thought I loved myself, yet, the ability to survive would indicate a love for self. 

Thanks Chart, for giving me a new perspective!

Quote from: Little2Nothing on May 03, 2024, 03:06:23 PMOver the years I thought that I had forgiven her.

I thought that too about various FOO members. It might be maddening or disappointing or painful or something else entirely to find out that actually, no, you or I or any of us had not actually forgiven. I think that's just part and parcel of the journey of healing - feeling this on a different level and/or the onion layers, the realisations. You might feel stuck for a while, I do anyway, but I think there's movement, there's progress even when we can't feel it.

Quote from: Little2Nothing on May 03, 2024, 03:06:23 PMBut, right now, I feel an anger toward her I have never felt before. She was my mother, why didn't she love me or take care of me? I am angry because she had me, her last child, even after she had abandoned every other baby she birthed. I am angry about the way I was raised, about the orphanage, scavenging for food, having shoes with holes in the soles. I am angry about her taking me to my abusers house, trying to give me to a strange man for money. I am angry that she made me carry the guilt of her beatings.

I think anger is healthy and you have every reason to feel angry about what your M actively did to you and what situations she got you into by not caring for you properly.

Quote from: Little2Nothing on May 03, 2024, 03:06:23 PMMost of all, I am angry for being angry. This is all in the past and I can't seem to rise above it. I wallow in its sorrow, groveling for someone to care and knowing no one could conceivable understand the anguish that cripples me almost daily. I am a caricature of a man, lost, fumbling with no sense of normalcy. I will carry this to the grave. I feel like I am allowing her past abuse to continue to abuse me.

As I say, I think you have every reason to be angry, even though your M's actions/inactions are in the past. The effect of the trauma isn't in the past, that's what counts. On here, there are people who understand and have experienced daily anguish that cripples, even though it may be an anguish about different things and may cripple in different ways. Your words are poignant. I'm sorry you're feeling so lost and so much in pain at the moment.

I have been told things in the past, like by my behaviour I'm repeating the abuse done to me in the past or particulary in my case that I'm repeating the neglect, so I'm wondering if that's your own idea or something you've been told? There might be a bit of truth in there somehow but generally the abuse or neglect is on those who did it in our childhoods (or continue it now, as some FOO mbrs do) and it can take quite a number of years to realise what we're doing and then break the habits and find better ways of treating ourselves. In my experience, self-blame doesn't help.

 :yeahthat: x 10000

Forgiveness only seems possible to me if someone actively seeks it, as in there is true apology and intent to be different. Something to be done and given in response to someone seeking forgiveness.

Your mom's actions are not forgivable in my book and you owe no forgiveness. Anger is so very appropriate to the circumstances. You do not seem like an excessively angry or vengeful person. I don't believe your lack of forgiveness or your anger are in any way a problem or flaw.

I'm sorry for everything you've been through.

Thanks Armee and Blueberry for you comments. 

It is hard sometimes to know how or what I'm supposed to feel. One near  constant is the inconsolable loneliness I have. The anger just adds to it. 

I had buried the anger for a long time and it probably is healthy to let it out. 

Hi L2N

My T has helped me to recognize the difference between my unhealthy anger and my, what he calls, "Good anger."  When the anger is justified and is helping me to release pent up energy, he applauds it. Anger, when it's appropriate and not lashing out or hurting anyone, can be a physical release of pent-up anxiety or depression. And "good anger" doesn't really hurt anybody. Lashing out is bad anger. Self-destruction is bad anger and only prolongs or escalates the distress. But admitting when someone has been horrible to us, and blowing off a little steam is a release of bad energy.

When my FOO was at their very worst, I actually went to the craft store and bought some cloth dolls. I made small voodoo dolls and photographed them being caught in ceiling fans and stuff like that. Nobody got hurt. It added humor to my rage. Laughter and anger are not so different from each other. Both are releases of anxiety. Making a joke about it really helped me release a lot of pent-up, 50 yearlong rage against people who cannot be dealt with. My FOO was never going to change. They were 100% convinced they were right to abuse and blame me for all their failures. So, I took out my anger on some $1 dolls. Had some fun and moved on with my life.

I hope your anger gives you a little bit of a feeling of being alive and self-supporting.

If it's good anger, enjoy the feeling of release.

So, I was at church this past weekend and the topic of forgiveness came up. The consensus was that if you truly forgive then you will embrace the offender without question. Many there believed that forgiveness was generally unconditional and wiped the slate clean for the offender. In other words they get a do over. 

That might fly for some offenses. Not every foible a person commits is heinous. When someone acts out of character it is easy to not only forgive, but to, in essence, wipe the slate clean. However, not every situation is simple or incidental. So I recounted part of my childhood, excluding anything graphic, and stated that forgiveness is not always easy. I recounted that there are times I believe I have forgiven my mother and times when I'm not sure that I have. There are complicated scenarios that require a more circumspect approach. I posited the thought that a person might forgive without wiping the slate clean. Granting forgiveness is an act of self preservation to free us from the torment of anger and need for revenge. In most cases our offender does not care if we forgive and most likely will never ask for it. 

Also, the idea of wiping the slate clean with some people can be dangerous. I think that forgiving someone in essence means we no longer wish them harm, are happy when they are hurt, or become enraged when someone says something nice about them. It does not mean we have to embrace them back into our lives or give them trust they have never earned. 

Anyway, forgiveness is a difficult thing to grasp. It is something we must reconcile in ourselves. It is a personal act. I was saddened by the trite platitudes that were thrown around without thought. The act of forgiveness has no cookie cutter formula. I think that folks who had relatively good upbringings cannot conceive of the dark and wicked actions of some people. Nor do they understand the long term suffering that results form it. I wish that the church would be more compassionate towards those who have suffered great loss as children and recognize the pain they carry on a daily basis. I know God understands, but those who represent him have done a poor job of shepherding the hurt and lonely among us. If there is anyplace that should show empathy, patience and grace to people struggling with trauma it ought to be the church.

I'm so happy you spoke up as I know there were others listening who needed to hear that.

Armee, I'm glad I was able to enlighten them on a different perspective. I'm sad that understanding the impact of trauma is so foreign to most people. 

Yes... Speaking up is taking things in hand, acknowledging, saying Truth. Even better than anger, stating the true past is so important. The complexity of forgiveness is difficult to unravel and different in each case. But what impresses me is how far you have come in acknowledging and talking about your trauma. And in public!!! Congratulations so much. I think it's a huge sign of progress.

Chart, I told my T about this today and she said the same thing! For the first time I felt no shame talking about it. Normally I wouldn't mention any of my past, but I thought maybe what I said might help someone else who was there. 

I absolutely agree. As hard as it is to face and talk about I truly believe that silence is a million times more destructive. And the more I open up and talk about my abuse, the easier it gets for me AND I get better at communicating in a way that brings people closer as apposed to alienating. We on the front line (CPTSD-conscious) have to help those still locked away in a shame that is not of their making. There is in reality no shame. When that finally sinks in EVERYTHING changes. And that's when healing really starts.