Out of the Storm

So, my kids are teenagers, and the oldest is on the autism spectrum.
He's leaving the local school this summer, which is only round the corner from our house (we live in a very small town) and he will be going to college in the next town over.
Because he has special needs, I spend a lot of time trying to teach him the things that my other child just seems ok with doing, automatically.
So stuff like catching busses, speaking on the phone, buying things in shops, it all needs to be taught purposefully  like learning a new language.
He's doing really well with these life skills, making some progress and I'm so proud of my kids.
I find it hard though, because social skills were something I just didn't have as a youngster.
Independence outside the home just wasn't encouraged in my family.
I left school at sixteen, in the grip of an eating disorder, crippled with depression and anxiety, and unable to even maintain eye contact with others.
The eating disorder wasn't all about me being thin, it was more that I didn't want to be alive, but wasn't brave enough to do anything about it.
I hadn't been taught about personal hygiene, and so I was dirty, wearing mens clothes, or old lady ones my Mother got from boot sales or charity shops.
I'd been badly bullied at school and the hygiene really didn't help.
My school trousers were mens, and when I got my period, the seat on those black trousers were stiff and shiny because I'd bleed on them but dry them overnight to wear next day and the next, till they stank. I felt ashamed of myself and dirty, but somehow I didn't make the connection between bathing more or washing my clothes!
Once I left school, I was stuck at home a lot with my controlling, abusive Mother.
I tried to work, but I was consumed by anxiety and the women I worked with looked down on me.
The manager would watch me work, and call me pathetic, and painful, (pretty much confirmed what I learned from my Mother)
The eating disorder was really making me Ill, and I left the job.
Trouble is, I was trapped with my Mother all the time then, with absolutely no way out, no friends, nothing.
She would speak to complete strangers, telling them embarrassing private things like I wasn't there.
She'd tell people how little I'd earned and that she kept me.
My days were spent working in the house with her, cleaning and cooking but only ever feet away from her. If she stood up to do a job like hang washing, then I had to do the same job also, not a different one...but that...alongside her.
When she sat to rest and watch tv, I had to sit next to her as well. When she lay on the sofa for a nap, I would lie on the floor in the same room.
She needed constant company, so if I wanted to spend time alone in my room away from her, she would be very very angry with me, and say I was a *.
It wasn't like my room was private, it had no door anyway, and she would come in to rummage or throw things out, especially while I'd still been in school, or just walk in anytime she liked.
I wasn't allowed to catch a bus, or go to places without her, though to be fair my social anxiety was so bad I couldn't buy a bar of chocolate in a shop without shaking and sweating.
At a time when you are supposed to be learning more independence, finding your own preferences and making friends, I was completely trapped...More dependant, not less.
My Mother told her friends she'd got me some 'help', because people outside the family were saying I was depressed, but she never did.
She wouldn't admit I had any kind of mental health problems at all.
Looking back, all the anxiety and depression was because of emotional and sexual abuse I'd experienced.
Why am I writing this?
Because it's hard to teach my son independence when I wasn't allowed to be a teenager myself.
I was never a child...I certainly wasn't a teenager.
Things like public transport, and banks, or coffee shops terrify me even now.
Every time my teenage daughter picks out an outfit or wears make up, I'm both triggered and proud.
Because she's a teenager, with school friends, and music and art.
Trying to help my son be less anxious about the future, and life skills is uncomfortable, because where it comes to this stuff, I feel like a frightened kid myself, but I'm proud of him.
Writing on a forum is a whole new thing for me.

Mary Ann, I felt sad about how you were treated and what you went through. I felt sick to read how controlling your mom was.

Oh my gosh my heart is just breaking for you. It really struck me what you said about connecting so tentatively your anxiety and depression to the abuse you suffered. I wish you had been supported, loved, taught and had been given freedom to be your own person.

You sound like an absolutely amazing mom. It is unfair you were not given this guidance when you needed it but it's such a beautiful thing to be able to break this cycle and give our kids better. That alone is what has given me the courage to seek help. Just wanting to be a really good mom for my kids.

You deserve to heal for you, too, though. Just for you.

Welcome!

Hi Mary Ann,

Welcome to the forum  :heythere: Thank you for sharing, I really resonated with what you wrote and I'm sorry you had to go through that. Your mom had no right to treat you like that and it sounds like she had severe underlying issues going on. How great it is to read though that you're there for your kids and celebrating their achievements in doing things for themselves. It must have taken a lot of strength to go through what you did and come out how you did.

Hope you find the healing you need here,
dolly

Thank you all so much for your kind words.
This really feels like a new chapter for me, and I'm really glad I found this forum.

I really wish I could properly explain what my family was like.
It's like I want to tell people, but even with my T ...it's like I don't have the right words, and it's beyond me to explain, or suddenly my head is empty or my words are young and inadequate...it's so stupid.
But that's the hard part about complex trauma, it's just so flipping complicated, and if you were talking to someone and they said describe your childhood in a couple of sentences, it's just impossible.
I feel guilty about writing about my Mother, because she wasn't evil, or a monster....she definitely had an undiagnosed personality disorder I'd say. I think the worst thing with her was she was so very self centred, everything was definitely about her.
She was the only one allowed to have feelings in the family, she could behave as badly as she liked, and everyone  trod on eggshells to avoid her moods.
Yet my Father coddled and accommodated her like she was a child, and she was oddly childlike...but not in a good way. Rather like a little kid, peevish, indulged and with all the absolute power in the house.
   When I was small my older sister moved away. This was bad news for me, as she was now I'd say my attachment figure, because she was almost twenty years older and my Mother who couldn't be bothered with me left me to her care a lot of the time.
She shouldn't have had to look after a kid, and she was resentful towards me, this often made her quiet cruel and abusive  looking back...but she did at least make sure I ate meals, things like that.
Anyway, when she left, my Mother passed me round to be looked after to just about anyone, whether I was ok with them or not.
She didn't insist I ate proper meals, and let me have any cake or junk I wanted instead because parenting was just too much like work I think.
While she dressed me like a doll, in silly expensive, fussy dresses, my Mother never went so far as to make sure I cleaned my teeth.
So on a diet of cheap shop bought cake, sweets and the occasional apple, and no brushing , my teeth suffered.
I was less than seven when I was taken to the local dentist and needed a couple of fillings.
The dentist said because they were baby teeth, they didn't have nerves and so didn't need any anaesthetic.
I'm writing this as an example of a selfish parent.
So I remember this day, because my Mother was having a great time, chatting away to the nurse, and flirting with the young dentist, and no one noticed that it was hurting me.
Baby teeth or not I could still feel it!
On the way home she admonished me sternly to look after my teeth from now on.
I think this was perhaps common at the time, but she never really took much notice of my distress, certainly not if she was having a nice time.
I hope it's ok for me to write stuff like this on here?
I don't suppose that's much like a 'recovery journal' is it?
The thing is my head feels like it's an anthology of disconnected separate stories, except it's not stories, it's my life, and I'm both scared and want to write about it.
I've spent most of my life crippled by depression and anxiety....it's an absolute monster.
Now I've recently started taking medication I'm hoping I can engage better in therapy, write about/think about/process stuff without the huge level of distress that comes with it.
I wonder why I want to write about it all so much? Sometimes wonder if it's self indulgent, like I'm wallowing in the past? I've spent the first two decades of my life not allowed to acknowledge the abuse, and not allowed to have feelings, and the second two has been given up to flashbacks and constant intrusive memories, and I still didn't talk!
It's only in the past few years I started to seek help.
It's only in the past few years I actually made any  friends, because I wasn't able to till then.
Having friends doesn't feel safe, talking to them about personal stuff doesn't feel safe, but I'm slowly learning. I'm learning stuff as a middle aged woman that my daughter knew at ten!
But I am learning.

Mary Ann, writing about it IS a recovery journal.  It's so important to give voice to these things that have been trapped inside for all these years.

We here all understand, and believe you, and care.  A recovery journal is your space to write about everything you feel a need to express.  This forum is a good place.  I hope that you will feel safe here, and supported. 

Quote from: Bach on January 25, 2022, 06:39:19 PM
Mary Ann, writing about it IS a recovery journal.  It's so important to give voice to these things that have been trapped inside for all these years.

We here all understand, and believe you, and care.  A recovery journal is your space to write about everything you feel a need to express.  This forum is a good place.  I hope that you will feel safe here, and supported.

:yeahthat:

I read what you shared and I hear you, Mary Ann.

It is really important to write and share in ways that feel safe, as part of recovery. Sometimes it helps to read what others have gone through because I recognize in their stories such clear examples of abuse and trauma and my heart just breaks for them, and then I realize: Oh they are describing what happened to me, too, what I have brushed off as being no big deal.

Other times when I share something that I've forced myself to think of as no big deal and people who I know have gone through so much trauma react with strong emotions about what happened to me....it is 100 times more validating than anything a therapist could say to me. I can see: I'm not bad and stupid to be affected by this. And that is healing. Brushing stuff under a rug is not healing. Whatever you write here is for yourself but it also helps any of us who read it, too.

I completely completely relate to what you say about not even being able to talk about or describe or explain what happened. It is very confusing and difficult  and any single example just doesn't really explain what happened and feels so small compared to the whole picture, which just can't be expressed. I once brought my sister to therapy after I had been with my therapist for about a year and a half. I hadn't been able to explain to him what my childhood was like because it was just too confusing and because my memory is so poor. My sister was able to give him an excellent understanding of what things were like. In that 50 minutes he learned more about me and my childhood from her than he has ever heard from me, simply because I just cannot put it into words or remember any details or trust myself enough.  And I always had the same protection as you...always reminding myself before speaking up that my mom wasn't evil and wasn't trying to hurt us she was just really mentally ill.

But your mom was abusive and neglectful. You are not wrong about that. Whether she meant to be or not doesn't make it OK.

You are not alone in having early bad dentist experiences. I was a military dependent and I used to think that any dentist in the military was because they were so bad they couldn't make it in the "real" world. But I'm sorry you went to one that was so... Wow.  ALL teeth have nerve endings. And for them to ignore your pain levels as well... I'm sorry you had to go through that.   :hug:

Thank you for reading,
When I read back ...the dentist drilling teeth sounds a bit unbelievable...far fetched, but I remember it vividly. I was doubting myself until my husband told me he had gone to the same dentist as a child.
He had a similar experience, the dentist extracted a baby tooth with no pain relief, the tooth was chipped, but wasn't loose or wobbly so it would've obviously hurt!

So, when I was a child, there was an odd dynamic in my family.
My siblings were in their late teens when I was born, and for long periods of time I was left to the care of my grown up big sister.
My sister was resentful of this, but it was almost like she had a point to prove, she wanted to do things better than my Mother, who she felt was quite permissive with me.
And while my Mother was unstable, and either volatile, or wouldn't put any effort into looking after me, my sister made a point of being firm.
Only her 'firm' was really quite forceful....that's the only way I can describe her.
My sister would often say that my parents shouldn't have had me, that they were too old to have another child, and because my parents were old I wasn't a 'real child'.
She said that's partly why I was bullied so badly at school, the other children could see right through me...that I wasn't normal.
So to make me more like a 'real child " she would often engage in a weird kind of roughhousing, knocking me down, shoving and name calling just out of the blue, totally unexpectedly.
Which if she'd been ten and I'd been eight, would perhaps have been ok, but she was in her mid twenties when I was eight.
She was totally a mother figure, with complete authority, and was the person who made me eat meals and have a bath, or learn my multiplication tables for school (so in this she was better than my Mother)
When I say she was forceful, it was like once she got an idea into her head, there was no changing her mind.
One day, she was sat cracking her knuckles, and she was in a funny mood.
I wandered in and said I wished I could make that noise with my fingers ( I didn't know small kids generally don't)
So she said 'do you want to.....' and she grabbed my wrists forcing my fingers back till the knuckles crunched. I cried and cried because it hurt, but she wouldn't let go of my wrist.
She wouldn't let go till she'd done the same to both hands, and all she'd say was 'it doesn't hurt!....and you wanted to do it'
In the kitchen, she dared me to suck a soaking wet teabag, and because I wouldn't, she held my head in a headlock and forced it in my mouth.... The same with neat lemon juice mixed with water, which was sour but she insisted I'd wanted lemonade, and that's what it was, so she pushed the glass into my mouth and held my nose till I had some.
If she was set on doing something, there was absolutely no way out of it ...at least not for me.
But she was also much better than my Mother, or at least she felt safer, even despite all this.
I absolutely hero worshiped her, and tried my hardest to be like her...I'd have jumped through hoops for her to say 'good girl'
But this business of me not being a 'real child', was really rather damaging looking back.
The bad thing was our Mother was very jealous of my sister.
While she couldn't be bothered looking after me herself while I was small, she resented that I had a relationship with my sister.
So occasionally, I'd be woken up in the night.
One time, my Mother came in while I was fast asleep, and she pulled me upright, she held my arms and was crying and wailing.
She asked me 'who do you love most...me...or HER?'
I tried to say I loved them both, and she was really crying...bawling her head off!
She wouldn't accept this, she insisted I had to choose....who I loved most?
I remember her crying angrily, shaking me by the arms and slapping me round the head, but I don't remember much else of this occasion.
This jealousy was awful..but un acknowledged...and at the same time, my parents both insisted that my sister was jealous of me...
Such a weird dynamic!
My Mother would get angry over things like if I hadn't put some clothes away.
I remember once she came in and started throwing the clothes round my room, slamming wardrobe doors, hurling things into drawers.
I lay in bed with my eyes screwed tight shut pretending to be asleep, stiff as a board.
She pulled me out of bed and started crying and wailing into my hair, and tried to make me put my arms round her to hug her...but I was stiff...I couldn't bend.
She was just bawling 'put your arms round me', and she was shaking me, but I don't remember how that night ended, but I did remember the next day.
I walked home from school, praying that she'd be in a good mood....
And when I got in, she gave me a funny smile and told me she'd left me a surprise in my bedroom!
I was so happy, I thought she must be in a good mood...if she's left me a present!
When I got in my room, I looked up and saw her surprise...
She'd written on the wallpaper that I 'was a dirty pig and lived in a filthy sty.'
It was in pen, so there was no way I could wash it off....
When I went downstairs she said 'well......' like she wanted me to react in some way, but I didn't know what to do...I covered the writing up with a couple of posters, and worried if that might make her angrier....
But really, who writes on a little kids wall?
I never really felt I loved my Mother...I was just wary of her, but I did love my sister.
And that's such a weird PUSH/PULL ...loving a person and being scared of them at the same time.
We shouldn't have to be scared of the people we love.

No child should have been treated like that, Maryann. What both of them did was horribly abusive and sick. I can see why your sister saying you were not normal and the other kids could see that would be such a damaging thing to be told. She was wrong. And your mom was very very mentally ill and that does not excuse what she did at all.

I want to reassure you in case there are doubts in the back of your mind anywhere:

1. It wasn't ok

2. It was abuse

3. You broke the cycle

4. It is ok to not love your mom (or your sister, though I hear you, that you did and that made it all the worse).

5. It is ok to hate them, if you do.

I did not love my mom and she was not nearly as abusive and neglectful as yours. I hated her. A couple times my therapist tried to tell me I could love my mom but not like her and I had to be very clear that I did not love her. All I ever wanted was to get away from her.

Hi Mary Ann,

I wanted to say that I too have problems writing things out and getting them down. I think when I begin to write sometimes, it's like my brain automatically distorts it as a way of editing what is coming up; that it's so conditioned to see or think of things in a certain way.

I second what Armee said about your family being abusive and wanted to send you a hug if that's ok  :hug: When we're that age and experiencing things like that, I think we will always look for the good in people as a way to make sense of a situation that doesn't make any sense to us, or to most people. The jealousy, blaming, childlike etc sounds like narcissistic abuse although I'm not an expert, just my own experiences and am wondering if your t has mentioned that? Sometimes it's easier to look at the behaviour when we understand what was driving it.

Thank you for sharing with us,
dolly

Yes, I know what you mean...it is easier to understand the behaviour when you see what's underneath it.
I think my Mother had bpd, undiagnosed obviously, though she often told everyone how depressed and anxious she was, she never sought treatment or therapy and she certainly never took any responsibility for her own behaviour, however bad that was.
She would happily tell people about her 'nervous breakdown', and if she did allude to her behaviour being off because of it, she always blamed the menopause for this. (It must've been a seventy year menopause!)
My Dad I think was quietly narcissistic in his way, because he had this attitude of being better than other people, even though there was no basis for it. He would often talk about 'the art of one upmanship'...which was ridiculous to me even as a kid. Looking back he had very poor social skills...absolutely no idea really.
While he was ok to me, because I was his sort of little friend/mascot, I entertained him ...he was awful to my older siblings, especially my sister. He would never ever intervene or even admit that our mother's behaviour was wrong though. Both my parents had sad, abusive, abandoning childhoods themselves.
In particular my Mothers neglect left me really vulnerable to all types of abuse from other people inside the family and out.
When I write stuff, there's always this thing....I tend to forget what I wrote and become repetitive...and it's embarrassing.
But stuff does get repetitive...I once spent time writing a kind of biography (sorta therapeutic)...and even I got fed up, with it....I could've just said 'more of the same'...either that or I could've invented some nicer more interesting stuff!
It's so nice to be able to talk about stuff though, and read other peoples experiences.
I'm really grateful for that.

I'm not feeling too well today.
We were supposed to be travelling to stay with friends for a week, but the weather has been horrendous....the worst storms and floods for thirty years. Understandably my friends didn't want us to travel. This was a thing we'd planned for the last year and we're exited about.
The thing I find upsetting though is I suspect my friends are relieved we're not going.
I can't write about this today. I've fairly  level and regulated since starting antidepressants, but for the first time in weeks, I'm really low.
My elderly parents called the other day and said they had some spending money for my teenagers, because they were going on holiday...but they'd have to go round to collect it.
They are desperate to get my kids to spend time with them, and my children don't really want to.
It's a similar reaction to the one I've got, they wouldn't mind seeing something of my Dad, but my Mother is another matter.
I'd intended to go with them, and they only live round the corner, but I was asleep when they went, and didn't wake up in time,  even tho my son had shouted me.
The plan was that they'd go, have a quick cup of tea with them, say thank you for the pocket money and go home.
People in the wider community sometimes mention my Mother, how forgetful she's getting, how sorry they are for my Dad having to take care of her all alone.
While it's possible she has mild dementia, she's never had it formally acknowledged from the dr....it's just something everyone assumes.
And for me, it's just another excuse, in a long list of excuses for her behaviour.
It sounds awful, but it's hard to say if someone mentally deteriorated if they've never been very bright, and used it as an excuse not to put effort into anything!
In the past, she's always blamed things on her 'dyslexia' (never been assessed tho...and that's a reflection on processing reading....not a catch all)....her hormones, her menopause (which lasted about seventy years!!)...her anxiety/depression...and now....she sprinkles each interaction with anyone with....'ooooh I AM forgetful....I've got dementia....my memory's gone....my MINDS gone...' stuff like that.
It's almost the first thing she says...even to people she seldom meets, I'm told.
It sounds awful, but she was never very clever....but worse...she wouldn't try to give effort to anything....and she was clever enough to manipulate people...she has an encyclopaedic knowledge about how people have offended her in the past, grudges....mistakes others have made.
(She could never even point to a major nearby city on the weather map, but she remembered every bad thing her older daughter ever did or said! You get the idea)
So my kids go round, and my son almost immediately disappears with my Dad, into the sanctuary of his shed. My daughter, basically gets stuck with my Mother....in the house, on her own,
She finds my Mother awkward to say the least.
Mum spends the entire visit, showing her old photos (claiming not to recognise me in any of them).
She shows her teddy bears, and ornaments that she tries to give her but she refused.
My Mother tried to give her an old Victorian ring, which had been one of the causes of our original estrangement (she'd given it me, I had it twenty years and she wanted it back)
My Mother told my daughter she'd been saving it for HER...and begged her to have it.
It sounds like her mind is woolly, but the last time I bit the bullet and made one of my rare visits...my Mother, knowing about how she'd caused the row over the old ring...gleefully went to find it, and waved it under my nose, asking my Dad....'tell YOUR daughter how much the jewellers said this was worth!.
She also does the things with the photos every time, including ones as adults of me and my sister, both her and my dad claim they don't know which of us is which. Which is ridiculous considering my sister is eighteen years older than me, and at the time 4 dress sizes bigger.
Anyway...she was very insistent....kept pressing my daughter to take the ring, and she found it really awkward and unpleasant, but she refused.
All the while Dad was hiding in the shed!
Neither of my parents ever ask about school, or the kids pets or normal stuff like that.
My mother doesn't offer to make them a cup of tea....in fact my daughter had to make her one.
Very astutely, my daughter said...'grandad and x—-xx escape to the shed.....I'm left to ENTERTAIN nana'
I feel awful for not waking up and going with them...
Every time I see my Mother, it makes me feel ill.....but hearing how they are with my kids (although this was her on her best behaviour) makes me just as bad.
Oh, she also showed my daughter pictures of when she was a baby, adding ...'your not like that now are you!.....ooooh isn't your voice DEEP' ....teenagers find things like that awful! And she never says it to my son.
I'm sorry my kids went. ...it's such a catch 22.
I feel bad for having little contact, especially with people telling me how bad she's getting and how hard my dad has it....but I feel bad even hearing  about them, having my kids go, and seeing her is worse!
It sounds awful, but I just wish she'd hurry up and die.
It's thrown me into an emotional flashback...because it's how my Mother always was.
I had to take care of her, entertain, work for, cook for, be company for, absorb her foul moods...everything.
I wasn't allowed to say the word no, I was just her creature.
I once said to my T, I wasn't a child, or a teenager, I was either a doll, a servant or a service dog....depending on what age I was and what mood she was in.
My mother with her children, she was almost dare I say it, flirty with her sons...nothing much was asked of them like household chores, but she did act almost like she fancied them.
With her daughters, we had to bear the brunt of her moods, and do things in the house....all the above.
The boys went out and were  almost feral....seldom in the house.
The girls weren't allowed to have any independance, and any friends had to be hers too.
While dad, blissfully carried on refusing to see how miserable we all were.
She treats my daughter like she treated me....to a tiny extent obviously!
I'm so sorry my kids went round. I couldn't sleep last night because I was so angry, and worried about my daughter being harmed by this...because teenagers are fragile!
I never feel anger.....it's rare....because I wasn't allowed feelings as a kid, especially not anger!
I can tell it's my 'stuff' coming up because of my extreme reaction.
I mean she's an old lady, but to me....it's like she's a ferocious unpredictable dog, whose hurt me, and my dad is like a doting dog owner, who takes no responsibility for it and gets offended that people don't think his pet is cute!
And the meds are damping stuff down.
I like to write 'poetry', or do other creative writing, it helps me process my experiences and feelings like nothing else. But the pills seem to have destroyed my creative side...she's just not there anymore.
I like not feeling abject despair all the time....but I feel nothing.
Unmediated, I usually swing between really raw emotions...always fear, and deep depression....never happy.....and then the other state, which is just numb and sleeping.
Out of the raw emotions comes the creativity....and so I feel like I've sacrificed it.
Another thing lost to childhood trauma....it's like a gift that keeps on giving!
I'm sorry, I'm a bit rantey today.
I want to talk....I wish I could explain stuff....I want to tell someone how I feel....but it's too messy.

Hi MaryAnn,

Your mother is extremely manipulative. You know that of course. She is doing so much of this stuff just to get to you. I know - I deeply deeply know - how awful it feels to wish your parent were dead. But of course you do! She's awful to you and she makes you ill. Your kids dislike her too even just from short little interactions. That's her fault and it is on her. I don't think though that your daughter will be damaged by this. She gets to grow up with you, not your mom. Even if she is exposed to your mom's terrible behavior sometimes she gets to escape it and go to a safe home. They'll be ok.

I'm glad you didn't go. I know you feel guilty that you didn't wake up and protect them but they are OK. They knew the price and were ok with it, so they went, because it is a short exposure. If you had gone though it would have probably been an even bigger trigger than you are already experiencing. You get to protect yourself. You are allowed to do that.

The people in the community can step in if they feel so bad for your dad. I got a lot of crap too because my mom lived alone but we can't save them from themselves. I know it feels terrible. I know it feels like a trap no matter where you turn. I couldn't wait for my mom to die. I have still felt nothing but relief since she did 6 months ago. I hope you get your freedom soon too.

Mary Anne, I appreciate you sharing your thoughts here.  I especially appreciated the distinction between what the boys were allowed to do versus the girls - I actually had that in my past too (honestly still do with my parents and in-laws) and haven't thought much on that before.  I hope that you find each step of navigating this difficult situation. 

Thank you Armee, that never occurred to me...that if other people feel so sorry for my Dad...they could step up and help. When my M does die, I don't know how I feel. I don't feel any love for her, just fear and unease....I know when it happens I'll feel something, strong emotions of some type...just not sure what.
And thanks Rainy, it's good to know other families do the boys/girls thing.
The worry is, my Dad will go first and then the whole family will expect me to look after her, as I'm the only daughter  living near enough (even though one of my brothers lives in the house over the street)

My other brother doesn't think much of me for having little contact with my parents.
He told his wife that all this worry (over estrangement) will be the death of Mum, and when it does....he will go round and 'have it out' with me.
I don't want to be accused of killing my Mother.
I don't hate anyone, I'm scared of all members of my family.
I just wish I'd been born into a different family....with normal people, not this well of nasty and trauma.

Hi Mary Ann,

I relate to what you're saying. Everyone sees your m and f in a certain way and not the way you experienced them. When their behaviour isn't what most people consider "abusive" how can it be that bad? We must be the ones who are wrong and not doing enough or being enough. My recent trip home brings up a lot of that and how they can seem so sweet and nice to others. My gm used to do the "oh I'm so forgetful, maybe it's alzheimer's" all the time, or gasp whenever she had to pick something up etc. It's taken me years (in therapy) to step back and acknowledge that my feelings are valid that something's not right, and I still have to deal with peoples' reactions of "oh he's just an old man."

I spoke with a friend and he said he didn't ask to be brought into this world and he doesn't owe his parents anything; they were the ones who were supposed to take care of him. That really blew my mind because it was so unlike how I saw things and I'm still trying to integrate it. Sorry, I don't have any solutions or answers, just that there are other people out there who get it and are going through the same thing.

Sending you support,
dolly

Thank you Dollyvee....I'm really glad other people get it.

I wonder, does anyone else feel huge grief for the family they wish they'd had?
My best friend is an older lady, she's old enough to be my mother....and I spend lots of time with her and her husband. She's given me lots of support for many years. When I first started looking at my sexual abuse I had horrendous depression and anxiety, and I can say with absolute certainty, if it wasn't for this friend I'd be dead by now.
I've learned how to mother my children from her, how to cook, how to act with people...everything.
When I spend time with them, I just get this real deep longing....this couple should be my parents.
I grieve that they aren't, I want to belong in their family...
The life they gave their kids has brought them nothing but good things, their grown up kids don't have mental health issues, they've had a childhood they can look back on smiling...it's like a legacy of love.
My family caused me nothing but pain, and I'm carrying it constantly.
There's nothing I can look back at and smile over....unless it's with irony...I've been left a legacy of hurt and nothing else.

I feel this often, MaryAnn. I have sort of substitute parents similar to what you describe. My 2 aunts and a couple older males who were coworkers before they retired. More than mourning what I didn't have, it makes me feel grief because even though they are all there for me and super kind. I never really will be like their daughter for them. My aunts support and help me through tough times, but they aren't going to fly across the country for me like they would for their own kids...that kind of thing...makes me sad. I'm grateful for what I have but there's grief their yes.

Also more recently I've been noticing how I've forced myself to look at the silver linings of situations so much that I miss out on grieving what is mine to grieve. I think I'll write more about that in my own journal today.

You aren't alone in feeling these things.  The legacy of love is beautiful that your friends have. I wish we all had that to build off of. I do get to take pride though in breaking the cycle. I'd rather have the legacy of love to pass on, but. .

That's exactly what it's like. I should feel glad and grateful to have such good friends...and I am, but I can never be like one of their actual children...and it's a source of real grief. There's such a lot of grief in this complex trauma thing.
The grief for what people did, for what people neglected to do.
I can usually tell when friends have had a reasonably normal life with their families. They don't have to give it much thought....family and parents are in the background, just taken for granted .  The way I see it, parents are like shoes. You don't notice shoes unless they hurt you, if they don't fit. If they pinch, it's like the thing supposed to protect your feet, keep them warm and dry and comfy....just cause harm. It hurts,your feet will be damaged and grow wonky, it affects how you walk. So as someone who's gone through the world limping, from shoes that hurt and let water in...I look at others with nice well worn comfy ones and I feel real loss.
I ask my friends almost guiltily about their mothers in particular.
Silly questions about everyday life. What did your mum do if you were ill? Or naughty? What did she cook? It's silly, I know but it's a source of pain and fascination.

Been a rubbish week.
One of my closest friends reacted badly to something I told her about and really scared me. I know why she responded that way, but I felt really let down.
She's one of the few people I really trusted, I needed her to be supportive, but she wasn't.  I feel like I won't be able to confide in her again now...feeling stupid for thinking I could anyway.
We've not fell out, but I was upset, and I needed to talk to my older lady friend.
The one that's been so good to me. ..she's my go to safe person.
I couldn't talk to her, because she and her husband were away on holiday. Now they are back....but they're both poorly with covid.
I'm worried about them, because they're elderly...and even mild covid is unpleasant.

Mary Ann, I am sorry to hear about the shaky trust with friends and the illness of folks you care about.  I hope you find some ease.

My Dad plans to visit my sister who lives over a hundred miles away, just for the day.
I know because she texted me about it. I didn't want much contact with her, same as I don't want contact with much of my family, but she still texts from time to time.
She told me Dad is having a friend 'babysit' Mum, because he can't leave her alone. How Dad has a hard time and needs a break away from her, it'll do him good.
I feel grief about my Dad. I'd like to see him sometimes, but not my Mother...not her.
I know things aren't good with my Dad...I know he's partly responsible, but I do have feelings for him, I did love him.
I was talking to my friend, and she pointed out that he could arrange to go a hundred miles to visit my sister without Mum...but he can't visit me on his own!
I only live a four minute walk away from them!
All the thing about him needing a break makes me so angry.
He's allowed her to be like this all her life. She won't even make a cup of tea for herself now, he's practically her slave.
And him not liking to leave her alone.
When I was a kid, my parents always left me alone....or with scary people I didn't know.
They regularly left me home alone while they went to stay four or five days with my sister, who lived a five hour drive away at the time, from the time I was eleven.
They arranged for an old lady neighbour to stay the night, but she couldn't come during the day.
She would come over at 8.30, and sleep in our house till 8 the following morning...
But that meant I was alone right throughout the days,  and I was home all day because it was the school holidays...and at eleven I could've easily set the house on fire! Because I made my own meals.
By thirteen or so, I was simply left alone anyway for days.
It was the same level of care you'd give a pet cat...not a child, ....someone to look in and check she's ok.
They went away without me in this way regularly .
As a smaller child of nine or ten, my Mother worked and so in the morning I'd get up alone, and go to school without seeing another soul. Because I was unsupervised, I didn't often brush my hair or teeth, or eat breakfast, though even if she'd been in my mother wasn't big on me doing teeth or hygiene.
I'm annoyed because Dad is so concerned for his wife, he won't leave her alone....but no one showed that concern for me. I was either shown off as a trophy or neglected.
I can't stop thinking about them just now.
Anyway, silly thing...but I'm scared of travelling on trains...especially alone.
Yesterday, I took the train alone for a short distance. First time in years. I was really pleased.

Mary Ann, I appreciate you sharing about this experience.  I was thinking the other day how there came a point where my mom just stopped providing any care to me when I reached a certain age and the memory you shared of waking up and not seeing anyone resonated.  I don't think it is silly to have worry about trains or transportation in general.  I am glad that you took the trip. 

That's a really stark and painful comparison, MaryAnn, and whatever you are feeling about it is so valid. Hurt, neglected, angry, disappointed, etc...so many other feelings would come up for me in that situation. Was your sister intending to inflict guilt on you, too,, when she told you about having a friend stay with your mom?

You're loveable MaryAnn and worthy of care, even if your family of origin is way too sick to provide it.

I wrote that last entry this morning, and since then I've had the first EF for weeks.
I can't stop thinking about the past, and i really wanted to write about the neglect aspect properly.
I tried to elsewhere on the forum but didn't post it.
I've been meaning to show my closest friend (the older lady) a bit of my poetry (sounds a bit pretentious but I write cos it helps me).
I finally worked up the courage and left her a couple so she could read them in her own time.
Ten minutes later after I left I was in tears panicking, I had to call her and ask her not to read them...keep them safe and not read them.
Of course she agreed, said she'd put them in an envelope for me till I wanted to show her.
I had a letter in the post, which then caused a real nasty anxiety attack...couldn't breathe, shaking, guts turned to water, dizzy...everything makes me feel like I'm going to be in trouble!
once I'd calmed down I slept for almost five hours, and I still feel tired.
Also been having bad dreams, more than usual.
It sort of feels like I'm desperate to tell people things, but when I do or almost do, it sets off the fear.
I don't need to worry about sharing my writing with my friend, she knows my story!
She's seen me at my absolute worst!
It's that old fear of getting into trouble for saying anything I think...because the feelings were out of proportion to the situation.
I'm so grateful to write on here. Especially because it's anonymous, though I still worry.
It's good to hear how other people are similar, because otherwise how would you know?
It's like I feel compelled to throw my story around, but so very scared ...I'm going to have another go at posting on the neglect and abandonment. Try again, in the neglect/abandonment part.
One of the things I'd tried to write before, but couldn't was about my pet rabbit.
How my Mother often had a clear out, and threw away my toys, even the ones I liked.
I came in from school at six or seven, and found she'd got rid of my pet rabbit...no warning, no nothing...he just wasn't there anymore. I looked as sad as I dared, but couldn't really protest much, or act as upset as I felt, because it would provoke her anger.
When I asked if I could have him back, my Mother said the rabbit had to go, because I didn't clean him out....but small kids can't take care of pets alone...they can only help, the parents do it.
Also, he'd been given to other children down the street, and they'd be upset if they lost their new rabbit!
When I was in my teens, I reminisced about this occasion, to my grown up sister.
She cruelly told me that Mum told her about the rabbit. The people she'd given it to hadn't fed or watered it, and it was found starved to death in its hutch. Mum had told her not to tell me about it at the time.
She may have kept quiet when I was small, but she gleefully told me the tale years later....like I wasn't likely to be upset but I was! I was still a kid.
I'd written about this occasion as an example of emotional neglect....but it's not that. It's just plain cruel.
The actual physical neglect as I grew older made me feel like I wasn't like anyone else.
I didn't mean to waffle about all this.

Oh Mary Ann. I'm so sorry. You didn't waffle on and it is ok to share here. Really really ok and important.

Feels like things are just getting worse.
This recovery journal is turning into a backward step journal.
My best friend the 'older lady' was rushed into hospital with a suspected heart attack.
She's now at home, and was told it wasn't a heart attack, there's something else, but it's not clear, she doesn't know.... I think she's waiting for some test results. It's hard to know the full story, because she's been communicating by text, and she's also being careful about what she says, I can tell. She doesn't like to worry people. I don't want to annoy her by wading in and asking persistent questions, other than how she's feeling now, and can I bring her anything she needs....?
Earlier in the week, a fox maimed one of my chickens but left it alive.
It's just been a dreadful few weeks.
Last night I had the most severe Ef I've had in a long time. ..
I was crawling round the bed, almost screaming, I cried so much I almost vomited, and then I couldn't breathe....it lasted such a long time. I'd managed to be mostly ok during the day, but didn't want to engage with my kids/husband/anyone...couldn't think, just foggy and numb and sleepy stupid.
Then once I was in bed the storm broke.
Can't think, but foggy, numb and sleepy stupid....that's how I often felt as a kid.
This friend is the only person who it feels like cares for me....unconditionally.
The first person that ever has.,....I love her so much and I'm afraid to tell her.
She should be my Mum...I should have been born into that family.... Not mine.
A while ago, when I first started dealing with stuff.....I'd crave physical contact with her....I would have crawled on her knee if I could! She's not a huggy person, and I'm almost adverse to physical touch....but I wanted to magic myself small, and sit in her lap like a little kid...not that I would say this to her.
She's one of the few people who's seen me in huge distress and unable to speak because of the flashbacks.
She understands most of my story, has heard bits of it multiple times...
My son said, are you sad because she's ill...or sad for yourself?
Both. ...things won't be the same. I wish I could say 'Mum' to this person, just once, instead of having to give that word to the woman who abused all her children.
I read other peoples post...I never respond...I'm scared to, I have nothing to say...I don't want to get into trouble.
I'm just so very very sad.
I don't feel safe being at home....I never do....I'm going to go for a walk later.

Hi Mary Ann,

I'm sorry you're going through a difficult time with your friend's health. It's hard when we think about losing someone who means so much to us, even if they aren't exactly a mum. It sounds like she is a positive attachment for you and that is special.

dolly

Hi Mary Ann,
I am so sorry to hear that your friend is having some health issues, and I hear how special and precious your relationship with her is.  You have been so honest and open about your feelings, and I think that's a really positive thing - your journal is hopefully somewhere where you can be true to your feelings.  Your friend is lucky to have someone who cares so much about her.  You mentioned unconditional love, and that is something really precious and rare.
Hope  :)

Thank you Dolly and Hope for your kind words. It means a lot that other people hear.

It's been a real hard week.
Today started rubbish but I went for a walk in the woods in the mud and I enjoyed it. The ground smelled rich and the birds were singing .

Looking back I was an extremely timid, anxious little child.
There was nothing that didn't scare me, and it wasn't helped that my siblings were so much older, they were practically grown up by time I can remember.
It wasn't till I had kids myself that I realised how fragile they are, and how most people treat small children with care, but not my family.
My grown up sister used to tell me how she was stuck minding me from when I was a new baby.
She would tell me of the time when I wouldn't stop crying, and so her boyfriend at the time, grabbed me from the pram and shook me violently before throwing me back into the pram in disgust....I lay there quiet...then started to really cry! I was less than 6 weeks old, and could have been really hurt.
Instead of being horrified that a boyfriend would do such a thing, she went on to marry him!
She also used to tell me how they laughed when my pram rolled down a hill, hit a rock and turned over.
They found this hilarious till they saw I wasn't crying, I was lying there with the pram on top of me...wheels spinning! Again, this isn't funny. This same boyfriend dangled my two year old cousin over a railway bridge by the ankles!....
The same sister also dropped scalding hot food on my face as a new baby, and my parents both insisted she'd done it on purpose, though she always said she didn't, but who knows in my family?
My Mother shouldn't have been leaving me at a few weeks old anyway! And most 18year olds know enough not to shake a new baby, or let harm come to it, don't they?
This sister was left looking after me most of the time.
One of my earliest memories of her was of her calling me a horrible child. If I was naughty (presumably) I had to stand in a corner, facing the wall till she said I could come out.
This particular day, I was hysterical, crying and drooling, snot everywhere (so I must've been very young)
She kept asking if I was 'sorry for myself'....to which I wailed 'sorry.........'
This wasn't good enough for her....again and again she left, coming back and asking the same question...
and I kept crying sorry.
Finally I repeated her exact phrase 'I am feeling sorry for MYSELF'.....and then and only then, she let me out.
I'll never forget the look of disgust on her face.
My older brothers would play a game with me, where they dangled me by the neck, through the banisters from the top part of the stairs, their hand was round my neck and I clung onto their wrist with both my hands, legs kicking.
One of my older brothers drank a lot.
I was very scared to go to bed, I remember sitting anxiously at the top of the stairs, ears straining to hear what was going on. Even if the tv changed volume, or the door rattled, my heart would start banging with worry. Often the brother who drank would come home and there'd be shouting and huge rows.
One day, I was stood in the doorway watching my dad and my brother fighting, they were rolling on the kitchen floor and my brother tried to hit Dad over the head with the kettle. I remember crying to my Mother 'phone the police!' She didn't, they just carried on fighting.
She should have taken me into another room so I didn't have to see this.
My parents shouldn't have allowed my grown up brother to come home roaring drunk, not when it frightens a young child in the house, he was old enough to move out if he wanted to behave like that.
Mothers look after their own tiny babies if they're only weeks old, especially back in those days when they mostly stayed in the home, so why was I just passed around to people? It seems like noone in my family ever behaved normally, not with each other, and not towards children.
However odd and resentful towards me my sister was, she was still safer and more predictable than my Mother really. She was always either depressed in a way that meant angry, resentful and hostile to those around her....or overbearing, really intrusive towards me.
I don't know why I'm writing this here today. My family baffles me.
In a nice family, lots of grown up siblings can mean more love and attention, safe familiar people to occasionally babysit....but in my family it meant the opposite.
Two abusive mothers for the price of one....and worse! They resented anything each other did....and my sister especially had a point to prove, she didn't want to be stuck with me, hated her mother for it...but ultimately took it out on me. Grown siblings meant I wasn't just wrapped up in my parents dysfunction, I was at the mercy of theirs too.
So really, no wonder I was an extremely anxious child.
It spilled over into everything...

I'm sorry you went through so much..
I hope writing this down helped. Your writing always paints such a picture, and this was tough to read.
I wish you'd have had the kind of mother who looked after you. I wish so much for you.
I thought dealing with siblings as an adult was difficult enough...
Thank you for sharing... sending love and care your way today.  :hug:

Thank you....writing does help.
For a time, my parents and I, and my grandmother who was very elderly, moved away and lived in a small coastal town. My big sister, who'd left and married, moved back in with us while her husband worked away.
At the age of eight, my favourite film in the whole world was Annie!
We'd recorded it off the tv, and I loved it, and wished I could sing and dance like they did on the film, but I couldn't....I was a very uncoordinated kid.
The next best thing though, was to own a gold locket....just like Annie had, with a tiny picture in it, but the trouble was I had no money.
My grown up sister came up with a brilliant idea. If I did jobs for her, she'd pay me and that way I could save up for my locket necklace.
So I peeled potatoes for a family of five, I cleaned shoes and did my sisters ironing, selected easy garments I couldn't ruin. I did these jobs for five pence a time, and even way back when I was eight it was no money at all, but she said take it or leave it, and to me it was better than nothing.
I remember feeling pleased with myself when she considered me good enough at ironing to do the trickier items for her, as well as the usual tops and jeans.
This wasn't a token gesture, the jobs had to be done properly, and slowly my jam jar filled with small change.
I loved to count my jam jar, and as I did I'd imagine buying the necklace and wearing it to school, hidden under my uniform like the best secret.
The plan was, when I'd accumulated enough money, my grown up sister would accompany me to the jewellery shop in the town and I'd choose my locket. (Obviously it wasn't going to be a real gold one with a jam jar of loose change! but I was exited)
   My Mother would see me busily doing the jobs for my sister, and she'd comment sourly to my Dad, they would shake their heads and tut, but they never said not to so I carried on working and counting.
One day, my sister was away from the house, and Mum said SHE would take me to the jewellery shop.
Had I been going on about it....or had I drawn her attention in some way? I don't remember.
However it came up...this was AWKWARD.
It had been my sisters scheme, and she was going to take me...but of course I couldn't say this and refuse my Mother! Mum was jealous of my sister, things were volatile, and I wasn't stupid!
I remember feeling a strange mixture of guilt and excitement as I walked into town with my Mum carrying the jingling jam jar of silver .
In the shop, my Mother chatted away animatedly to the owner while I looked in the display cabinets, and there was no way I had enough money,  the cheapest were a few pounds more than I'd saved.
The man then showed us some silver coloured necklaces with tiny dolphins on them.
He and Mum agreed that girls always like dolphins. The necklace was ok, but it was thin and flimsy, one of those pocket money items that kids can buy themselves.
I hated dolphins, and I desperately wanted a locket, like in the film.
Mum started being impatient, she was embarrassed I was wasting the shop keepers time, and she said irritably that if I didn't get something, then SHE wasn't going to bring me back another day.
If I'd been braver, I'd have said I'll wait! My sister was supposed to take me ANYWAY!
.....But.....this is me! I was scared of making her angry, so I got the little dolphin necklace even though I didn't want it, mum seemed happy enough and the crisis was averted.
    When my sister returned home that evening, Mum pointedly had me show her what I'd bought, and she looked at it, clearly wondering why I'd chosen that and gone without her.
Mum sort of implied that I'd wanted to go to the shop with HER, and she was looking at my sister in a gloating sort of way.
I tried to act pleased with my necklace, I tried to explain to my sister I'd not had enough money for a locket, but she glared at me, and curling her lip, she spat 'you just couldn't wait...could you!'
Was she annoyed I hadn't saved up more, or that I hadn't waited for her to take me? There'd been no way I could have refused my Mother!
She was angry with me, and she swept off to her room and wouldn't let me sleep with her that night , and she was frosty with me for a while after.
Mum looked at me, and said 'She's had you running round like a flipping SKIVVY for six months...for THAT!'
I never wore that necklace, it was so cheap and flimsy it got tangled in its little box.
Whenever stuff like this happened, I felt stupid, like I got everything wrong....it all added to my sense of being ashamed of myself, in a way I can't even describe.
   Last summer, I travelled to where I'd lived as a child. I stood outside my old house, and walked the woods and fields. One of my best friends came with me....and we stood on the shore and I threw that old necklace that I'd kept since the age of eight out into the sea!
I wish I could get rid of all the stuff and rubbish in my head as easily as that though.
I've written about this because it's a good example of how my Mother and sister were so at odds with each other. When I say it it doesn't sound like much, but over a whole childhood it really causes problems.
My Mother wasn't often around, and when she was she scared me, I felt uneasy in her company and she certainly never was concerned for me.
But though I loved my sister, she was irritated at me, I was always underfoot and she was embarrassed at everything I said or did.
Even my face....my Mother would bark at me not to 'smile like that....you look just like your sister',
And my sister would just say to stop 'smiling that stupid smile'
Luckily, there wasn't much to smile about in our house....so it was kept for visitors or the school picture!

Feeling bad about my parenting when my kids were small.
My teenage daughter every now and then brings up something I'd said when she was little.
I've said something to make her feel bad, or made her do stuff when she really was unhappy about it.
She told me yesterday that when she was little, she struggled to fasten the top button of her coat, and one day I'd snapped at her for it....I'd said 'you can really...your just pretending you can't so we'll think your cute?'   I've no memories of this, and I don't get why I'd think she was trying to be cute.....
I did what I always do when she reminds me of times like this....I apologised....said I shouldn't have said that...and wasn't that a bad mother moment 😩.
I don't want to damage my children. I love my children.
The horrendous thing is....any time where I've said something, or implied something negative, or not made allowances for them being kids....well, it's how my family were with me. ..in a much lesser way obviously.
I'm terrified that I've behaved like both my dysfunctional 'Mothers.'
I struggle to look in the mirror because it's like I'm turning into them, but this thing is so built in to me, it seeps out...in my behaviour....or it must've done!
I've discussed my daughter with my T, and this worry, that they'll be damaged by me, same as I was.
She said there's a big difference. My daughter can TELL me that something I'd done had made her unhappy, she's not afraid to tell me how she feels, or that something I'd said was wrong.
It shows we've got a good relationship, she's not scared of me. And I don't ever deny my behaviour, I apologise, and say it was wrong of me. It's not like her whole childhood is blighted, it's some occasions where I've over reacted, or responded wrongly.
My parents denied anything they ever did or said was wrong. And I was much too scared to ever complain really. My family has never apologised for anything ever!
I've got a good relationship with my kids......we're comfortable with each other, there confident, we laugh a lot!
    But I've got that feeling again. I feel toxic, and I'm worried I'll damage the people around me.
Complex trauma is like an inherited disease for me, and I hope I've not passed too much of it along.
Or it's like I'm someone exposed to huge radiation...and now I can accidentally contaminate the people nearest me.
My T did reassure me like I said, but what if she's wrong?
I know we don't have to be the perfect parent....we just need to be good enough....
I don't know....the sun is shining, it's a lovely spring day, and I feel absolutely wretched.

I can relate a lot to this fear, MaryAnn. It can be crippling at times. But I believe your T. That your D feels safe telling you these things and that you empathize and apologize....those are proof you are not like your parents. All parents say dumb stuff to their kids. It's more about the overall context of the relationship. I know what I feels like to doubt that though and it's awful.  :hug:

I felt things going downhill yesterday, and todays been pretty rubbish.
Nothing bad has happened today, but I'm just feeling really really sad. It's not as bad as while I was really in the midst of depression, it seems to be getting worse than it has been since I've been on medication.
The anxiety beast is also ramping up as well.
The difference is a while back I'd have been actually crying, and visibly distressed, but now it's all very much unseen. I can't stop sleeping though. I'm eating way too much. ..but then that's nothing new.
It took a lot for me to start with medication, and I just wish I felt a bit better than this, considering I've actually done it. I can't be bothered speaking to anyone, eye contact is going downhill as well...
Hopefully tomorrow will be a bit different.

Hi Mary Ann
I can relate so much about parts of how you are feeling.
I just started meds for the first time ever after fighting forever to not take them too.. and I feel like my symptoms have come back .. and I've only been able to cry now for about a week (I'm 6 weeks into an anti-depressant).. I can understand feeling like I may have spent my last 10 too, figuratively speaking.
It wasn't about control over my body and I can't begin to know that suffering (and I am so sorry you do!!!!!!!!!!!!). For me it was the fear of my mother being right about me being crazy.
Your sprained ankle analogy makes absolute perfect sense to me too. You aren't alone at least there :)
I was thinking about this after reading your entry earlier this morning.
Forgive me please... I am just brainstorming .. knowing it isn't just me having this effect from the pills.
Perhaps it isn't what we need.... but the fact that we did it to begin with was probably a great release for us because we did ask for them and we did take them. We took a chance for ourselves maybe and even if it came with a step backwards, making a step forward for ourselves has to be a good thing. Had to make us feel stronger, no? even if just temporarily? (this could be such backwards thinking I honestly don't know)
Maybe it's the wrong dosage.. mine is just what he wanted to start me on... i just felt it worked so have kept it at this low level.
Maybe it's just a part of what we need... this may be the answer I hope for most

Whatever it is, I hope you/we find out... and I hope you have some comfort knowing you aren't alone with this.
Thank you for sharing it.. it really helps. I hope you find joy in all sorts of places today.
I hope your EMDR comes quick and I hope you can replace that 10 spot in your purse :)
Sending lots of love your way

I really appreciate your comments and kindness..
I looked at my last post, and felt such a lot of panic I've removed it.
I'm scared that I write too much, and someone could know who I am by the bits of my story. A bit of a conundrum when i desperately want to speak my story. It may be that the meds thing settles down.

I've done the same in the past too. I took down my response too just in case that also causes panic. I'm happy to write down anything here though again that was helpful to read.

hi mary ann,   i really am not good at saying helpfull things,    i just want you to know that i am here to try to support you.   

Thanks Larry and Armee and Phil...thanks for the support.
Me having a panic is probably just a gauge of how unwell I'm feeling at the moment.
I'm having lots of Efs ...and not realising what they are till a while later.
Im probably going to write again about the stuff I deleted. Another time when I'm feeling less anxious.
Writing about stuff, or telling people is the most scary but helpful and healing thing I can do for myself...seriously...it's got to be a good thing...
Yesterday I went out to work, (I work outdoors) and I got so anxious I came right back home again...
I went and hid in my bedroom and lay there, in bed but not sleeping...I was jumping and startled at every noise outside. My back and shoulders have been hurting because of the muscle tension...and I keep on getting the shakes. I'm really not sure what's triggered this whole downward spiral...doesn't actually help I'd I do know.
Anyway....thanks for all the kindness everyone, and I'm grateful that I have an opportunity to write and be heard.

I'm sorry for your shakes, startling, muscle tension, etc.. all that awful physical stuff that comes.
Thanks for sharing... you aren't alone in this as much as it sure feels that way at the time.
I hope it eases for you.,, you're right .. it certainly can feel like a downward spiral.. I hope you find some comfort, peace, beauty somewhere to hang on to.
Sending a gentle {also shaky} hug your way  :hug:

Mary Ann, I resonate with the challenge of sharing my experiences with others.  It is a tricky thing that we both need other people to heal and yet are also triggered by other people.  I hope that you find ways to say what you want to say to others when you are ready. 

I'm on holiday for a week. Arrived last night. Kids really happy, it's our favourite place in the world but I had a horrendous night ...really awful nightmare about my Mother.  Really disturbing, anxiety level high and I've nothing except nice stuff to do.

Mary Ann, I'm so sorry about your nightmare. Those can be really disturbing.

I hope you and the kids have a great time.

I had another couple of really awful dreams last few nights.
I'm also struggling with my back, which I'm sure is related to my mental state a lot of the time. If I'm anxious, I must be tensing up muscles without being aware of it, and then my back and hip starts playing up.
We took our kids to the fair the other day.
It's funny but having kids makes me aware of the stuff I didn't do as a child myself. My parents didn't take me to a park/playground as a kid, and that cost nothing, they certainly didn't agree with rides on fairs!
One time I begged and begged to go to the fair, because all the kids at school were showing off about what rides they'd been on.
Eventually my parents agreed...I could go...I could have one ride and one toffee apple and no more! Then straight home.
The ride couldn't be a fast or scary one, my Mother didn't want to have to feel nervous watching, it had to be one of the baby ones for tiny kids.
This was almost worse, because we lived in a very small place, half my class were at the fair, and so as well as the usual jibes about how 'she can't even afford to go', the ones that saw me had a laugh at me only being allowed on a little kids ride.
That was the only time my family took me though.
So I was glad to see my kids enjoying themselves...it's only a few rides and some donuts, but I'm happy my kids do things that people their age enjoy.
Put a poem in the poetry/writing section today, and I immediately worry that people will know who I am (unlikely) and that I'm putting ugly things out there for the world to see.
I always feel like trouble is about to happen, and I can't feel any different.
I put the poem in because I was doing some writing anyway, and because I saw an advert for a creative writing workshop near where we're staying. It's a half day workshop writing about the theme of motherhood and how it's transformative...something like that anyway.
I'd really like to go...but I don't know if I'd be brave enough...it's something I've never done before, and these women may all be experienced writers?
I'll think about it....I'd be proud of myself if I tried something new for once.

MaryAnn,

You are a very talented writer. I'd encourage you to go. You have things worth saying and powerful ways of saying them.

Quote from: Armee on April 04, 2022, 05:06:55 PM
MaryAnn,

You are a very talented writer. I'd encourage you to go. You have things worth saying and powerful ways of saying them.

:yeahthat:
and if I could just add to be proud of yourself either way. You really have quite a gift.

Yesterday, we took our kids to a pottery cafe!
It was a really nice thing to do, and I found it quite relaxing, sitting painting on cups and plates.
Once they've been glazed and fired they will be sent to us by post.
It's quite tricky to find a nice activity to do as a family when the kids are teens, that's not full of little kids ...but my son enjoyed himself, and so did my daughter, I think though she's a bit of a perfectionist and never happy with the finnished product.
When I was a small child I had very odd obsessions...the biggest one was fungi! As a six or seven year old I was fascinated by them, and my most prized possession was a small book called the 'Collins gem guide to toadstools and mushrooms'. I took it with me in a coat pocket everywhere!
So I was sat in the pottery cafe, with a large coffee mug to paint, I didn't have anything in mind ideas wise...
So I just did something I knew I'd love drinking out off, a picture that made me feel happy...and it was bright red Fly agaric toadstools, growing from bits of autumn coloured ground, with a dark green background behind. I'm smiling now just thinking about it. If I could go back in time, the small child me would've been absolutely delighted to have a cup like that! And to paint one...it would've been her best day ever...it's not a good painting, it's only basic (the artist in the family is my daughter!) but it's something I love, in colours I love...and have done since I was tiny.
I wonder how many  kids have weird obsessions...mine were odd, certainly for a little girl...steam trains, fungi, among other things.
    I bought my best friend (the older lady) a little gift, it's nothing much just some nice handmade soap, as a souvenir. The odd thing is I get incredibly anxious about giving people gifts if I've chosen them, even tiny ones from holidays away. Like everything, there's a story behind it I think.
When I was a small child again about six, I'd gone to a jumble sale with my Mother (there were lots of these at the time, and my M got lots of our clothes from them)
Anyway, I bought a small pot figure with my own spending money, I think it cost ten pence, and I wrapped it as a present for my grownup sister/caregiver...it lived in her house for years.
As an older child of maybe ten or eleven? I was staying with her and she picked up the pot figure, and said to me, 'am I allowed to throw this away now?...you gave it me when you were little darling, and I always hated it, but I couldn't get rid of it because I didn't want to upset you...I stuck it in the back of a cupboard and only got it out if you came to stay.'...
It was only a cheap silly kids gift, and she must've thought I was by then old enough to be not bothered, but I felt really humiliated and hurt by this, I remember it well.
Another time  I must've been around thirteen, and my parents and I went in holiday, we stayed in a caravan and it was the first holiday we'd had for a long time (we usually just stayed with relatives or my sister to do work)
Again, I bought my sister a gift, with my own spending money, a small blue glass candle holder.
My Mother, when she spoke to my sister on the phone, told her I'd got her a gift and she bigged it up to be something spectacular! I'm not sure why!
When I gave it to her, she unwrapped it and saw what it was...a cheap souvenir from a kid, she burst out laughing, saying 'is this it!'...she laughed and laughed, and for years would bring up this hopeless present that had been made to sound like something good.
My point in writing this is...every single thing I do, even the tiny stuff, there's always a hurtful story behind it. Perhaps I was over sensitive as a kid? But I think my kids would have felt hurt if gifts were laughed.
As I'm writing this another thought occurred to me.
It's quite hard to follow, who lived in my family at what time.
This is specially relevant because my grown up sister when she lived with my parents was my real 'caregiver'...and first she was there...then she married and moved away...then we moved to the country and she came to live with us...then she moved away...then I spent many years back and forth to her house, staying for weeks at a time, then we moved....
I know older siblings move out, especially as mine were all in their late teens when I was born!
But this coming and going of my sister was really impactful, because she was my attachment figure when I was tiny, and though she scared me so much, I loved her and wanted her to like me...she was my second mother...begrudgingly.
Stuffs always more complicated than it looks.
My parents never divorced, my Dad always had a job...i had clothes and food.
It looks ok on paper...but actually it was so dysfunctional. My caregivers DIDNT care, and they came and went. At times my family lived in real poverty...and at other times they just acted like they did.
I drank milk leftover from local schools, and we ate bread that came in bin bags which my Mother asked for at a bakery if they were throwing anything away...my clothes and even underwear was all second hand....things were seldom ever new...I was left unsupervised and unseen for long amounts of time as a child, or sent to stay with people I didn't know...there were rows, and fights and feuds that lasted years...and physical violence and emotional violence...alcoholism (my parents always had money for this)....but on paper, to others it looked not too bad.
Blimey....I've started out about something nice we did with my kids....and I've ended up ranting and listing....again!
This isn't a recovery journal...it's a rant-a-rama!

Oh and the writing workshop.....I didn't go because....
I tried to book a ticket online and I couldn't do it, it didn't accept my email address or something like that....and so I just gave up.
And I'm angry at myself, because I really wanted to....and it's just like me to give up and do nothing.
I'm realising as I'm writing, I've just wrote, ranted and stewed myself into a really bad place.

That was this morning but guess what!
There was another creative writing discussion group on and on the last minute I went for it. It wasn't for very long, it was about creative writing for wellness and mental health, and therapeutic writing...that type of thing.
It was a small group, and I really enjoyed it!
We had to write something in 4 minutes and then read it out....i really had a nice time. I wish there was a creative writing group I could go to near me!
Im really really pleased

I was really happy about that event I went to.
Dare I say it I was even proud of myself...I felt brave.
The next day a bad thing happened. A really bad thing. I can't talk about it or write about it. It was a bad thing and I just want to say it happened and I'm just carrying on pretending nothing happened like I've done all my life...
Anytime I relax and feel happy or proud of myself (which is a new experience for me!) something bad seems to happen...maybe that's what you get for feeling good about something?

Oh MaryAnn, I am so so sorry. Please think about not pretending it's OK.  It's not ok, whatever it was, and ignoring it might just make it worse?

And yes, I always have that feeling that the second I let down my guard (for you it's feeling proud, for me its thinking people are safe)...something bad happens. It's a terrible belief that feeds my trauma reactions instead of healing them but life just keeps throwing me things that feel like proof. Of course, it's not proof, but try telling our brains that!

And Mary Ann? I am really really proud of you for going to that event. That's really cool.  :hug:

Thanks Armee.
I wish I could talk about the thing. It's something that happens sometimes.
I really want to. But I'm scared. I have a therapist appointment this week. I hope I can tell her. I feel like trouble might happen. I'm just really tired now.

I'm not 100% sure if I am correct in my assumption about what you might be referring to, but whatever it is, you are not alone in it. I've had terrible backlashes when I relax and let myself feel good...things like self harm and hallucinations and it feels like I can never get better when things like that happen in response to GOOD things. But ever so slowly that backlash has let go not by going direct at it, but by just slowly letting things just be and accepting them, weirdly enough, and just continuing that very slow process of healing. I could be way off base and whatever it is I am so sorry it happened again and that it's something that you can't talk about.  :hug:

Well SH is something that I've had a problem with in the past, but not recently...at least not for around a year...thanks for your support Armee.
I had a session with my T the other day and it was a really hard one.
I'm feeling ok today. I'm sat drinking coffee in my pjs at 11.00 in the morning, which is unheard of for me.
I get nervous sat around doing nothing. I tend to feel like my Mother could burst in at anytime and demand to know what I'm doing.... Which is ridiculous! She's old and doesn't walk much...I'm in my forties...and it's my house!
I remember even not many years ago, when I still had real contact with my parents.
If they came into my house, I wouldn't be able to sit down and relax, I'd automatically get up and start tidying something, or doing dishes ...anything.
My husband is more like 'it's my house I can do what I like'...but my fear was that she'd come in and find me guilty of doing nothing.
The ridiculous thing is...she has done NOTHING in the last 10 years! She has literally sat on her chair, eating sweets in front of the tv, while her legs swelled and rotted beneath her.
She hasn't got a chronic condition, or diagnosis of any type, she just was old and lazy and so as soon as my Dad retired she did nothing. She doesn't even make a cup of tea for herself....nothing.
When I married and left their house at twenty, my Mother told her friends she'd had to learn to cook ....because I'd done most of the cooking from my early teens onwards....but she didn't, my Dad retired shortly after I left home and so he did it all. ..while she sat around getting more and more immobile.
When I was a kid and she did housework I was constantly by her side having to help...and she worked various jobs off and on...so she wasn't always sat around.
I'm rambling on now about nothing....I'd better do something else

Mary Anne, the experience of feeling "guilty" for sitting around resonates with me.  I hope you find the right balance of moments of rest and doing things that are important.

I'm not feeling too brill today.
I want to talk to my special friend the older lady but I'm scared she'll find me bothersome.
I feel like such a baby. I want to be able to tell her I'm upset and she could look after me.
If she'd been my Mum when I was a kid, I could have told her when bad stuff happened and she'd have sorted it out. I just feel like I'm all on my own in the world today. And I'm sad and scared but mostly sad.

I want to do something fun with my kids today.
I have to look after everyone but my Mother never looked after me.

Hi Mary Ann,
I just wanted to say that I see and hear your caring for your friend, in the things you write. 

I hope that you're able to do some fun things today with your kids, as you hope to do.  I'm sorry that your Mum never looked after you. 

Sending you a supportive hug, if that feels ok (please disregard it, if not - sometimes I don't know whether to offer a hug, incase it's overstepping a boundary, but I do want to offer one to you  :hug:

Hope  :)

You really needed protection and care as a kid and you didn't get it. That is tremendously sad and unfair. Breaking the cycle with your own kids and giving them what you did not get shows just what a beautiful strong person you raised yourself to be. You deserved better, though. And you deserve to be cared for now, too.

I hope you had some fun today with your children.  I hope you also have opportunity to have fun or playfulness for yourself too.  We are meant to play and I am sorry you had to grow up without that too. 

Seems like the only time I ever write is when I feel bad, or maybe it's because I seem to feel so bad all the time. There does seem to be anything other.
I had a text from my older sister a few days back. It was friendly in tone but she basically said I'll be in town sometime soon so expect me to visit. She also said if I'm ever going near where she lives can I text and we'll meet up. I then had a call from my parents to say it's our wedding anniversary and so can they take us to eat out. I try to have as little contact with my family as possible. The less I see them, the better my mental health is. To speak plainly, to see any single member of my family is a flaming white hot trigger for me.
Even the text/phone call has caused me to lose lots of sleep, I can't work today,  because my anxiety is through the roof. My stomach is suffering and I can't go far from the house in case i need the loo.
It's the same old stuff time and time again. I'd like to see my Dad. In a weird way, I'd like to see my sister, but I'm scared of that honestly. But I don't want to. It's not worth the feelings it brings up for me.
Last night I kept on thinking of what I'd say and do to my Mother.
I couldn't answer my parents question about taking us out. I didn't know what to say.
I never know what to say. I just said I'll have to get back to you.
This is a how trauma effects me, and it has done all my life.
I'm a wordy person, I enjoy the beauty in words, the shape of language. But as a kid, when bad stuff happened, I had no words. Not during or after, I have no words now, even when being asked things like this by my family. Trauma robs me of my words. I'm left with the three s'....stupid, sad and spineless.
That's how I feel. Ironically, writing is how I process how I feel...but it's a delayed reaction almost.
I'm going to make coffee. Maybe do some writing later. If I can.

It's the dilemma of being around traumatizing people. Trapped. There's no good answer so the words and feelings leave us except to turn into self hatred and self blame.

Your emotions and physical symptoms are giving you the answer though. I used to describe it in my own case as "no! Stay away!" That is what my body was telling me. They are to blame for the fact that seeing them or communicating with them makes you seriously sick. That is their fault. They did those things to you. I understand feeling guilty and like the bad one. You are not though. It is reasonable and healthy to simply not respond or to just say "thank you for the offer but [a visit / going out to dinner] won't be possible right now." Or simply "I am unable to see you on your visit." Your body is not lying to you right now. It is the truest thing you have. Just the one sided communication alone has left you unable to work. How about parenting? When I was engaged with my mom i could not function and could not parent for a good few days. That's too steep a price to pay.

Hi Mary Ann,
I think Armee put things so well in her reply to you.  I found that I wanted to reply and say things, but the situation you described had tied up my words too, because I relate to the things you said - and I have felt incredibly traumatised by the idea of potential contact with family members. 

I admire the fact you were able to find some words and respond at the time.

Hope  :)

So I did a thing I'm really happy about.
I joined a creative writing group for survivors of abuse.
I really enjoyed the first meeting (was on zoom but still quiet brave for me!)
I've wanted to do something in the way of therapeutic writing for a while now, and so I'm glad to have this group to join. It was nice hearing what others had written with similar experiences, well....not 'nice'...more validation I think. I'd like to share some stuff I wrote with the group, I hope I'll be brave enough if I do get the chance. Bit daunting, because I left school at sixteen, I have no education past that, and I've never even done a job that would be counted as skilled or interesting, it's all menial stuff.
I know it doesn't matter, but I feel not very confident because of it.
But I don't need education to write about my feelings do I? That's the good thing about it.
Anyway I'm looking forward to the next group.
I've never joined a group before...of any kind! Not even any type of club as a kid. It's a whole new experience for me.

Congrats, Mary Ann! I hope the group works out well for you and that you enjoy your creative pursuits. Everyone has a story to tell. gentle hugs if you want them!

Thank you 😊

I'm so excited for you Mary Ann!!
I'm glad you enjoyed your first meeting... I'm glad you were so brave to do this..
I understand having a lack of confidence, but you really are so gifted and I hope this group gives you lots of opportunities to express yourself.
Congratulations on this awesome adventure !!

Thanks so much
I can't tell you how exited I am about doing something new.

So, I've not been writing in my journal for a while.
Ive had a really bad chest and I'm not sleeping much.
My son is about to leave school, he's doing his exams.
I don't feel anything. I'd like to write, or talk, but I just can't think or speak, or be bothered with anything.
It's like my head doesn't belong to me anymore.

I've spent today feeling tired, and spacey...till late this evening.
I'm irritable, I feel so much nasty, I hate my life, I hate people, and I despise me.
My heads just circling a whole load of horrid, awful memories and I just want to destroy something.
I resent my husband, I wish things were better than this, but I feel powerless to change anything.
I'm angry at people, but I'm paralysed with fear of them too....I very seldom get angry.
I have nothing to say, I can't say what I need to, I just hate how my life has been and I don't see anything getting better. It's my own fault, because if I was braver and told people how I felt, or stood up for myself more then things would go better for me. But it's hard. Im not brave. I just don't want to be here today.

Can i send a gentle supportive hug your way, Mary Ann?  :hug:
I am sorry you are feeling this way... I totally get it and am there often myself :(
But it's not your fault and you are very brave. Your writing is about the bravest thing I've ever seen for example.
I wish I had great advice, but I do understand that feeling of not being able to see things getting better.
You are such a kind, creative, intelligent person and I just hope this passes quickly for you
Much love and kindness to you!!!!

I know it sounds trite and cliche Mary Ann, but these things and those things were not and are not your fault.

Hi Mary Ann,

I hope that today is going ok for you so far.  I don't know how you're doing, but I wish you the best for the day, and hope it's ok.  I would also like to send you a gentle and supportive hug, if you're ok with that  :hug: 

Whatever is happening, and however you're feeling, please know that we do care how you are, and hope you're ok.

Hope  :)

So, news wise....I'm due to start emdr next week.
I'm also enjoying the writing group I joined....I submitted one of my poems (well a recording of it) for a poetry slam, and it was used so I'm glad about that.

Congrats on your piece being chosen :applause:

congratulations Mary Ann! :hug:

Well, it's been a while.
I've got a lot of stuff crashing round in my head at the moment, I'd like to be able to write about it but I'm struggling. I wish I felt better than this, but I just feel heavy, sad and sleepy...I can't think...and that seems to be how things are these days for me.
I went away for a few weeks holiday, and it was nice, but virtually every night I had bad disturbing dreams which left me feeling uneasy the next day...I'm used to weird dreams at night, but not so frequently.
My son started college this week...(sixth form) it's his second day.
My friend is away this week.
It's been a scary few weeks and I didn't have any where I feel comfortable.

Hi Mary Ann,
Wow, you had a lot going on back in September - I hope that you're ok, and I also hope you get less scary weeks.  You mentioned that your son had started sixth form college and was on his second day back then.  I hope he's settled in ok, and I also hope that you're doing ok.
Hope  :)

Thanks Hope, son seemed to be setting in ok, thank goodness.
I may have mentioned it before, but I've only just recently been comfortable catching busses.
I've had to overcome the fear, and learn to do it to help my son who is on the autism spectrum learn to get to his college independently.
I've been really proud of this new skill, and it's opened up things for me, as before I biked everywhere!
Well, last Wednesday a dreadful thing happened.
My son and I were on the bus, alone on the top floor, and two young teens got on.
They were being pretty disruptive and shouting out of the windows at people outside.
When our bus stop approached, my son got up to leave, but these two kids had bridged their feet across the aisle, and wouldn't move for him., even though he asked.
He stepped over them, and they still wouldn't move to let me past...they locked their feet and just sat there grinning. I barged through them, because I had to, and I made sure I wasn't careful about my feet as I did.
Seriously they weren't going to let me off the bus, and they were trying to trip me up.
At this point I said to one of them ''Aw did I catch you? Well you should have moved your legs then'
The other one then produced a bottle of juice and started throwing it at me.
As I went down the stairs he poured the juice properly onto my head.
Of course I made a complaint to the school....they were horrified and urged me to report to police as it's assault.
The very next day, I was on another bus with both my kids, and it happened again with the SAME kids!
I moved to keep away from them, but they literally followed me to where I sat, and approached three times, to hurl abuse and homophobic slurs . They accused me of telling lies about them to school, and the girl said I sprained her ankle...
In the end after one of them threw an empty Fanta can at me but it hit my son in the face, and I told the driver. He tried to get these kids off the bus, but they wouldn't move till he was about to call the police.
As the bus drove off leaving them on the pavement outside, they ran behind it making  wrist slashing gestures at my daughter!
Awful.
One of the reasons I struggled with busses is, though I wasn't allowed to use them as a teenager (when it would've been appropriate) as a small child I'd had awful experiences of severe bullying every day on the bus to school.
This was in the eighties, it wasn't an actual 'school bus'...it was a public bus, but it was crammed with pupils from my school. One day when I was around eight, I was beaten up by a much older child, but everyday I was kicked, spat on and pushed over. Because no one would let me sit down, I often had to stand in the aisle and if I held the back of a seat for balance, some kid would bash my hand with their fist.
It wasn't a good time for me.
I chatted to the staff at school after the first incident, and I explained I struggle to use public transport because I suffer with cptsd, and now this will really set me back.
It will also set my children back because they will lose confidence now.
Anyway that was Wednesday and Thursday. Now im ill.
Im getting lots of pain in my ears and neck, I've had a high temperature all night and I keep having to run to the loo, because I've got a horrendous bad stomach. All my joints are aching.
Logically, I assume I must have  some sort of infection....
But I actually think it's the stress. It's like I've physically and mentally had to come to a halt.
I've not got a cold or flu or anything like that...but honestly I feel so rubbish.
Not been sleeping, because anxiety beast massive.
Now my kids are off for half term. I planned to do some nice stuff, spend some time together...hope I still can. I usually work today, but I've had to phone in sick....really couldn't feel worse.

Oh Mary Ann, that's just horrible!!!
I am so sorry that happened to you now and in the past.
That is just so cruel... I can only imagine how triggering and hurtful that would be.
I hope sleep gets easier and you start to feel some pain relief.
Sending a caring hug if you'd like it.  :hug:

Oh Mary Ann that is just painful and horrible both what happened presently and what it triggered from the past. I feel quite queasy in the pit of my stomach thinking about what you went through. If they are safe I'm sending along a hug to you.

Thanks Phil and Armee for the hugs.
Funny thing is as soon as I was away from the situation, I started to do the thing I've done for all the childhood abuse etc....'well, was it really as bad as I thought?'
'Am I overreacting?'.....all that stuff. But this time, I was with my kids....they witnessed it.
Awful thing is my bright, confident fifteen year old daughter, now is scared to take the bus in case it happens again. ...and because I don't want her to develop a bus phobia like I had, I'm going to have to make sure we catch the bus together....keep doing the scary thing together till it's ok...but it's the last thing I want to do honestly.
I also just cannot believe how ill I've felt over the last couple of days.
My neck is still absolutely killing me.
The other weird reaction I got from the bus incident is that because I responded to these teenagers
(I wasn't verbally abusive like they were....but I did respond)  I had an awful feeling that I was going to be in trouble. I got to my safe place, my friends home and I couldn't calm down, I was convinced that something bad was going to happen, and that it was my fault....honestly I felt like I was eight!

It's been ages since I've written anything in here, I've been reading bits of other peoples posts but haven't got round to writing myself.
Most of what I've been writing about recently, for my own well-being? Is about situations that happen now bring up echoes from the past.
For example, I started a new part time job, and the lady I work with is a very dear friend. Only I'm slightly scared of her.
And that brings up all sorts of stuff from the past.
The work involves looking after livestock, and as a kid I was used as unpaid labour by my grown up sister who kept goats and sheep.
This sister was a mother figure, but was also quite abusive and so I hero worshipped her and was afraid of her at the same time.
So even as a grown up now, this feeling of wanting to impress someone, while being scared of them while surrounded by livestock...it really takes me back.
The other day, I got flustered over a task, and fearing anger I started to get the shakes....and I know it's an echo from the past, which produced a spike in anxiety..
But it still feels bad, that even after all this time I'm still tripping over triggers all the time!
However. At least nowadays, I can identify the problem. It takes several hours and isn't helpful at the time, but I can write it down to discuss in my next T appointment.
Anyway, hopefully I'll manage to write a bit more in here later.