Last night was a series of unpleasant dreams. I'd wake up from one, try to decompress and get back to sleep, then have another one. They all revolved around the same theme; feeling like everyone was ganging up on me. I could not set boundaries, call them out, defend myself, or even escape. Everyone interpreted whatever I did like *I* was the aggressor and come after me.
My mother even made a cameo appearance (haven't dreamed about her in who knows how long). She came stalking in and told me I need to have a talk with her boyfriend. I was resolute. I don't "need" to do anything she says and I have nothing to say to hem.
She got angry and slapped me, but it was so weak and feeble it didn't hurt. Like getting slapped by a toddler. I didn't even touch my cheek, just looked at her sadly. "So, it's right back to that, then"?
I was in the middle of telling her how much of an immature bratty petulant little girl she was when I woke up.
I get what it's all about; all the recent events that have brought me here. My subconscious has a *lot* to say about it.
________________________
I'm very apprehensive about therapy. My T has warned me that this process may reawaken my inner critical voice and bring back my suicidal depression. That terrifies me, but I'm resolute in my decision to press on.
_______________________
When someone is abused or neglected as a child, they often grow up to become the person that they wish they had in *their* life. Someone who is kind and caring. Someone who will befriend them and listen. Someone who will help.
Sadly, in my experience most people that are that way had similar experiences as children and we grow to recognize and gravitate toward each other.
I was talking with my GF (a literal red- headed stepchild) the other night, and she was reiterating about how she was always afraid that that she would've been an abusive mother. I've told her many times that the fear was unfounded, as I've known her for decades and I've seen how good she is with kids. One of the examples is the little boy who would come around to visit her; how she'd ask him about what was going on, let him talk, and really listen, etc.
She said "yeah, but that's only because he was broken". I didn't get the importance of that comment in the moment. I do now.
_____________________
*EDIT*
I've been told I'll need to welcome and allow my panic attacks, as they will be a critical part of the healing process.
This is very much like night terrors and lucid dreaming. I once had a terrible spate of night terrors, where I can sense somebody in the house coming to kill me, but I'm paralyzed. I can't move, I can't scream, I'm struggling to awaken so I can defend myself. When I do wake up... Nothing.
It had gone on so long that I resolved to just trust that I'd be okay and let myself fall asleep... Which introduced me to my first lucid dream. I was asleep and dreaming, and fully aware that it was a dream. I soon came to *welcome* my night terrors because they would always lead to lucid dreams (which I soon learned I had total control over).
So, too, shall it be with panic attacks and processing childhood trauma.
Slashy, trauma nightmares are disconcerting and can stay with me all day. I think your T's assessment is correct. When I started therapy so much pain, shame and fear was resurrected. I found those things are necessary to exorcise some of the demons from my past.
My mother-in-law knew that I was raised in an abusive family and told my then future wife I would be abusive with her. I always had the same fear. But, it never happened. I loved, and love, my wife so much that all I want is for her to be safe, secure and happy. I agree with you many of us grow up to be the exact opposite of how we were raised. I think it's because we saw so much evil that we know viscerally the inward sorrow it brings and would never want to inflict that on anyone else.
Important footnote I figured out tonight: I was in foster care during the summer of 1974 in either Centre County or Clinton County, PA. I would've been 3 years old. I sleuthed it out! :bigwink:
I distinctly remember the sound of the cicadas going crazy and my foster mother showing me molted exoskeletons of them. That's a very calming sound for me.
Cicadas are very odd creatures. They have a life cycle that's based on a prime number so no predators can ever synch with them. All cicadas in PA bloom in 17 year intervals.
There was only one cicada bloom anywhere in PA anywhere near that timeframe. Cicada brood XIV, and it's very specific to that area. That was the time and place.
All,
I must apologize in advance.
From time to time I will say some things that *as an adult* any reasonable person (even myself) will find enraging, but as a *child* I maybe didn't mind so much. :Idunno:
Sorry, I was just a kid and didn't know any better. I was only 3 years old.
As always, all trigger warnings apply in this journal.
__________________
I found my very early and short time after the shelter with my foster family to be mostly safe and nurturing out there in the boonies. There weren't many toys around and no TV, but I found joy in other activities. Picking peas in the garden, getting fascinated with the grandfather clock or cicada exoskeletons, etc.
They were mostly loving and nurturing. They'd occasionally get annoyed with me. I was such a picky eater, I'd crawl out of my high bed scared because it was so dark at night, or because I saw sparkles in my eyes, etc.
I was only molested for a very short time, and ironically I didn't even mind *that* so much. She was, after all, a high school age girl. :bigwink: :Idunno: Probably the most traumatizing part was the point where she was frustrated because I was "doing it wrong". Sorry... Nobody explained the 'right way' to me. Didn't get the memo.
I had a foster brother, maybe 2 years older than me at the time. He sat me down and showed me how to play with his wheel-o. That's a toy that dates back to the mid- 50s. A bent wire frame with a handle and plastic wheel riding on a magnetized axle. If you do it just right, you can get the wheel to zip back and forth at high speed. I found it engaging and soothing.
I don't remember the names of any of my foster family today. I barely remember any of their faces. I *do* remember being very upset to learn that my foster brother had been run over and killed by a garbage truck.
Today, my son and I went to the antique store and I bought a wheel-o, *exactly* like the one I played with as a toddler. These days are stressful for me, and I need all the reminders of happier times I can get. Soon after that, my childhood would take a turn for the worse.
I spent maybe $8 on that little lump of steel and plastic today. Totally worth it. I rode along in the passenger seat of my son's Honda CIVIC sedan "Bubbles" (She's 'hardcore') mesmerized by that toy. No mood swings, no panic attacks.
Today was a good day. :)
Hi Slash,
I'm glad you found the toy from your time with your foster family and it's helped you connect to a part of you. It sounds like there was probably a lot of difficult things for a three year old to process at the time and it's good to have something calming.
Thank you for what you wrote about becoming the person as an adult you wish you had around as a child. It's given me some food for thought and perhaps an insight as to why/where some of my rigidity about being "nice" comes from.
Sending you support,
dolly
Slashy,
There's a lot of beauty in your journal entry today. It really touched my heart. I'm sorry to hear what happened to your foster brother, and yet so touched by the simple joy he gave to you with that toy. I remember those toys. I never mastered one, but no one ever took the time to show me how to do it.
And, yeah, about the memo, I didn't get it either. I had to learn how to "do it right" on my own too. It took a few years. Good thing I married a patient wife.
Your entry warmed my heart. I hope you have very good day today. I'm glad your son drove so you could play with the wheel-o. :)
Quote from: GoSlash27 on April 19, 2024, 02:54:18 PMI'm very apprehensive about therapy. My T has warned me that this process may reawaken my inner critical voice and bring back my suicidal depression. That terrifies me, but I'm resolute in my decision to press on.
Hi GoSlash and reading your journal I think we are at similar points in our healing. And your nightmares resonate with me too. Thankfully they have now stopped and they have been replaced by continual flashbacks but these are now slowly being processed and released. One of the few "evident" issues I had was suicidal ideation and I have also felt scared about finding myself in that place again. But I do think that taking these brave steps with that in mind, pressing forward continuously but gently and listening to that kind, caring voice inside you will help. Even if the critical voices come out, you may choose which ones to listen to. And from what you've written you have a kind, caring and loving spirit that you can also give to yourself. I'm so glad you have a happy memory to boost you today and hope you can savour that to get through the dark periods. I'm truly starting to believe there is a bright, warm light on the other side and I hope that you, I and everyone else on this forum can find it. Sending you best wishes and a BIG :hug:
Quote from: dollyvee on April 21, 2024, 07:03:50 AMThank you for what you wrote about becoming the person as an adult you wish you had around as a child. It's given me some food for thought and perhaps an insight as to why/where some of my rigidity about being "nice" comes from.
Dolly,
Thank you for the kind words. :hug:
Truth is, my 'caring, nurturing' tendencies come from a dark place. It's not just that I wanted others to do better. Nothing that neat or altruistic. :Idunno:
I was relieved to discover that I could be a good mentor for my son. That feeling was so gratifying after years of feeling like a failure that I latched onto it, tried to help others as well.
There was a frustration that I couldn't fix whatever was wrong with *me* (cPTSD was unknown back then), but somehow if I helped enough other people, it would somehow help me too. I remember reading about that tendency in the forum rules, so I assume it's pretty common.
Finally, my tendency to be nice (and avoidance of those who are not) is borne out of a subconscious need to avoid or defuse conflict.
There's something in there that warms my heart too about seeing others feeling safe, curious, learning, etc. Feeling the way *I* was supposed to feel at that age... But that wasn't the primary driving factor.
I suspect these darker motives are what drive most of us to become this way.
Best,
-Slashy
A thought I have from tonight's session:
We spent the evening broadly mapping out my 'trauma time line' as best I can recall. A strange duality ensued.
I spent a lot of time thinking that what happened to me isn't really so bad; like I'm an imposter *pretending* I was abused for attention or something. My T was clearly disturbed by the things I revealed in those moments while I found then fairly innocuous.
I spent other times recounting vague events that I *personally* found most distressing and she was very nonchalant about them. Like "Yep. You'll have that". :Idunno:
I understand that this is just the natural dissociation that comes with all of this, but it still feels very unsettling; like one of the two of us is living in a completely different universe. And of course it's obviously *me*, not her.
My homework is to think of an experience from my childhood that is likely to trigger me for next week's session. This is more difficult than it sounds. The stuff I remember most clearly no longer elicits any emotional response. The stuff that generates a strong reaction... I hardly remember it at all.
Best,
-Slashy
I don't think there's anything wrong in finding pleasure and benefit from doing the right thing. Even if it is your primary motivator for continuing.
The therapy homework sounds tough. My triggers mostly come from left field and it takes a therapy session to connect the dots. Perhaps an approach to consider would be to think of a situation that reliably makes you extremely mad or sad. And then consider whether it would make anyone that mad or sad. If you uncover a likely overreaction on your part then it is likely from a childhood experience. You may want to stick more closely to the brief, but that is how I would tackle it. Or I'd turn up empty handed and say the dog ate it.
;D
One of the most difficult things for me to do is identify my triggers. There seems to be no rhyme nor reason to them.
I think minimizing the extent of abuse is quite common. I always said "there are others who had things worse." Which is probably true, but I said it, I think, as an apology for recounting my past, and for feeling pain because of it.
L2N,
I hear ya there!
I've been having ( sporadic) panic attacks for decades, didn't even know they were panic attacks let alone that I was supposed to be looking for 'triggers'. :Idunno:
I think what she meant is a memory that's upsetting enough to me that I'll get worked up retelling the story.
Best,
-Slashy
Quote from: GoSlash27 on April 19, 2024, 02:54:18 PMWhen someone is abused or neglected as a child, they often grow up to become the person that they wish they had in *their* life. Someone who is kind and caring. Someone who will befriend them and listen. Someone who will help.
Sadly, in my experience most people that are that way had similar experiences as children and we grow to recognize and gravitate toward each other.
Hi Slashy,
Wow, this is really something that I related to. Gravitating towards people on similar paths, or with similar experiences. You wrote the word 'sadly' - do you feel sad that it's like that? I am grateful that we can find people with similar paths - as it's supportive - maybe it might break a chain somehow. (Apologies, I feel like I'm actually waffling a bit - not sure of what I'm saying). Please disregard anything. I just wanted to come into your Journal, and thank you for asking me a question (in my journal) about my night terrors, and I saw what you wrote, and wanted to comment here.
Hope :)
Hope,
No ma'am. I think it's wonderful that we tend to find each other. It's just sad that people must suffer such awful experiences to become this way. I think the world would be a better place if people just naturally became like this without the trauma.
I wonder what I would be like had I not been abused as a child, and whether 'present day' me would respect that 'theoretical' me, or if I'd be more of a callous jerk. :Idunno:
Best,
-Slashy
I've been giving the subject of high IQ and depression a lot of thought since my last T session.
Piled on top of all the other trauma going on (pretty much everything), I was also a super brainiac kid. I knew it, my parents knew it, and my teachers knew it.
That *alone* is enough of a burden on a child to cause him to crack up even in a *healthy* environment. All these expectations (more like demands) are placed on you. "You will grow up to discover/ invent/ change the world". "You have been given a gift, you must not waste it". "You owe it to the world to reach your potential"...
They all believed it. Worse, *I* believed it. My entire reason for existing was to become what I was "supposed" to be.
So what do you do when your home life is abusive and violent and you're frustrated because the school isn't *teaching* you anything and you're moving from house to house to house and your grades are in the toilet?
I attempted to adapt to it. I stopped paying attention in class, started reading my own textbooks instead. Later in high school I would stop going altogether. I'd spend every day at the library instead.
I was fulfilling my almost neurotic compulsion to learn, but academically it was getting me nowhere.
I was never going to measure up to what everyone (including me) expected me to become. And my inner critic never passed up the opportunity to remind me of that fact.
It was *that* factor, more than anything else in that horror show of a childhood, that drove me into suicidal depression.
The *real* kick in the pants was my return home from my failed stint in the Navy (medical discharge- personality disorder), whereupon I discovered my expired full ride scholarship to Penn State for Aerospace Engineering, which my mother had lovingly hidden away from me in the couch cushions. :'(
In retrospect, I don't know if that was a blessing in disguise or not. Had I continued down that path in my emotional and psychological state, the failures might've continued to pile on.
As it was... The birth of my son caused me to readjust my priorities. That readjustment saved my life. Setting my sights lower allowed me to flourish in a more organic way, instilling pride in my accomplishments and admiration from my colleagues instead of the constant self- loathing for failing to live up to perfection.
Best,
-Slashy
Another thought, touching on last week's comment about 'becoming people we wish we had'...
I had two people I vaguely remember who came into my life as a child who fit that description. Just random people nobody knew. They weren't threatening, didn't want anything from me, never took advantage of me. They just befriended me, mentored me for no particular reason, talked to me and listened.
Now I wonder if, like 'Squeaky' with that little boy or me with all those fatherless children, they could simply sense that I was broken. And if so, I wonder if they went through similar childhoods themselves.
Quote from: GoSlash27 on April 23, 2024, 12:25:09 AMTruth is, my 'caring, nurturing' tendencies come from a dark place. It's not just that I wanted others to do better. Nothing that neat or altruistic. :Idunno:
Finally, my tendency to be nice (and avoidance of those who are not) is borne out of a subconscious need to avoid or defuse conflict.
I suspect these darker motives are what drive most of us to become this way.
Hi Slashy,
Hmm I'm not so sure about the "darker" aspects of where these things come from. It's hard to blame a child who learned how to do these things to survive an unsafe environment as dark, and intentionally doing coming from a "selfish" place, but I do see where you're coming from. Perhaps it's our shadow selves that we don't want to look at. Or rather, are so contained in shame, so we don't look at them.
About 8 (?) years ago, I slowly started to realize that I was having "reactions" when I would do something for someone and it wouldn't be reciprocated, or I felt kind of taken advantage of (because something wasn't reciproacated etc etc). This is around the time that I started therapy again. I realized that the person I thought I was -giving, loving, whatever - might not be all of those things the way I imagined it in my mind (and this is the important part), and I guess have a "darker" side. I think it's important because as a child we have this idea of who we have to be in order to survive, and when we step outside that, we see ourselves as bad. I think I would file it under child consciousness as Heller descibes it. It doesn't make you a bad person to not be those things all the time, that's just what you had to do to survive. I would guess that shame construes those things in our mind as bad because I believe that I do want good things for people, and to help make their lives easier etc. I guess I am now learning that I don't want to do it at the expense of myself any more, which makes me feel "selfish" at times.
Sending you support,
dolly
I'm also sending you support, Slashy :hug:
Hope :)
It's just beginning to register for me now.
They took away my childhood. Ruined my relationship with my siblings. Reprogrammed me into survival mode for my entire adult life. :fallingbricks:
That poor little child!! This is the heaviness I've been feeling the last couple weeks; mourning.
It's all part of the healing process; I've got to roll with it and I guess cry a lot until I get it out of my system and start to rebuild. I'm so out of touch with my emotions, I have a hard time telling the difference between different emotions. Anxiety, fear, sadness, anger. They all feel the same.
Best,
-Slashy
Slashy,
I hear ya. Emotions get tangled up and really hard to sort through.
The poor child didn't deserve to have these feelings get all tangled up, and I hope that as you slowly sort through the tangle, you are able to start finding the self-love that is there, but difficult to identify.
PC.
It is a tough time when we start realising there is a little child who was so badly treated and we start feeling for that child. I personally also think it is a mark of progress when we acknowledge that.
Wishing you well, Slashy.
Good point, Narckiddo,
When we start to feel compassion for our inner child, it shows we are starting to understand the damage that was done, which is the first step in any healing.
It's painful, but it begins the journey of healing.
Slashy
I'm sorry you're starting to feel the pain again. I hope that the friendships your making on the forum are able to bring some comfort to you as you feel this. The beauty of this community is that we understand each other in ways that hopefully help us each feel less alone with our (sometimes painful) healing journey.
I truly believe that I can handle a lot more grief when I know I have people on my side ready to send a hug emoji or a few kind words when I feel alone and adrift.
I'm sending you a hug emoji now. It carries true emotion and support with it. I hope you can feel that. :hug:
I very much enjoy interacting with you. I hope that helps in some way.
PC.
Papa Coco,
Not to diminish my support for anyone else on this forum *in any way*, but I feel my most personal connection is with you personally. I feel like when you have a small victory, I've somehow had one too.
My T recommended Pete Walker to me. I didn't attend real "school" in 1985/86, but they did teach me how to speed read, so I read "Surviving to Thriving" last week.
It's both frustrating and vindicating to read how easily he was able to describe me as a person in seemingly random terms just because I was an abused kid who happened to go "freeze/flee". From the 'tech nerd' career to the 'adrenaline junkie' hobbies and the 'hoarder' tendencies. I thought it was just my unique personality, but no. It's sadly typical and I had no idea anything was wrong with me for decades. :Idunno:
I feel that heaviness in my chest that indicates "mourning" and I've felt it all week. I've been focusing on it all week, but for whatever reason I've been unable to cry and release it. I feel so much *anger* toward my abusers. I imagine doing the most horrible things to them. Stuff I don't even want to say without a trigger warning.
That scares me because I'm not 'that guy'. My self identity lies in me not being that way. I'm afraid that somewhere deep inside me I *could* be. I've always feared that.
Best,
-Slashy
Quote from: GoSlash27 on May 17, 2024, 02:09:11 AMIt's just beginning to register for me now.
They took away my childhood. Ruined my relationship with my siblings. Reprogrammed me into survival mode for my entire adult life. :fallingbricks:
That poor little child!! This is the heaviness I've been feeling the last couple weeks; mourning.
It's all part of the healing process; I've got to roll with it and I guess cry a lot until I get it out of my system and start to rebuild. I'm so out of touch with my emotions, I have a hard time telling the difference between different emotions. Anxiety, fear, sadness, anger. They all feel the same.
Best,
-Slashy
HI Slashy. This sounds to me like a big step forward in recovery. Pete Walker and others talk about self compassion being a healthy thing, and it sounds like you are going in that direction.
Quote from: GoSlash27 on May 21, 2024, 03:23:13 AMI feel that heaviness in my chest that indicates "mourning" and I've felt it all week. I've been focusing on it all week, but for whatever reason I've been unable to cry and release it. I feel so much *anger* toward my abusers. I imagine doing the most horrible things to them. Stuff I don't even want to say without a trigger warning.
That scares me because I'm not 'that guy'. My self identity lies in me not being that way. I'm afraid that somewhere deep inside me I *could* be. I've always feared that.
I can relate. I had such rage toward my abuser(s), that I too had similar fantasies. Doing stuff to get the anger out (express it) in harmless ways has helped a lot. You have every reason and right to be angry. What they did to you was so wrong and unjust.
Slashy and Naturluvr, you've both said some beautiful things to me today. I want you to know that my heart is all warm and squishy now ;D . I have deep respect for both of you too, and the things you've both said to me today in posts have meant more than I can express. From my heart to yours, :hug: :hug:
-----
In the following response, I am speaking only for myself. I am aware that while we are all similar in our CPTSD, we are also different and unique. I always just hope that if I share my experiences, that anyone who reads them can decide for themselves if they want to explore them too.
For 50 years I balked at anyone who said I had anger in me. They were wrong. I was always focused on being kind and a doormat. I did, coincidentally, have ulcers and Gastrointestinal digestion issues, and highish blood pressure, and moments of suicidal acts, and chronic chest pains, and abusive alcohol consumption, and depression, and outbursts of terror, and chronic nightmares, and dissociative trances during stressful situations...but anger? No. I was calm as a cucumber. (I'm being sarcastic: Unexpressed anger caused ALL of the above).
My T had once taught me that my inability to identify and express my own anger was the cause of my dissociative trances. He said that every time I had good reason to get angry, I'd go blank instead. My face would drain of color and my eyes would go out of focus. My mouth would dry, and I'd become mute. I couldn't speak or comprehend language. All because I had no skills on how to accept and manage anger.
THEN, in 2010, when my selfish, disrespectful family finally got so ugly that even I couldn't love them anymore, my anger gushed out like a volcano. I confess that the newfound anger felt great --and horrible-- at the same time. Like with many of us, I was taught that I wasn't allowed to be angry. (Hint: The one thing bullies hate the most is when their victims stand up to them. So those bullies who had us from birth, made sure to teach us to NEVER stand up them).
I believe the anger was good for me. My T believes in good anger and bad anger. Good anger is when we deserve to be angry, so we accept that it's there, and we let it flow. Bad anger is when we divert it to the wrong place, go on a physical rampage, and take it out on ourselves or someone who doesn't deserve it. Good anger doesn't hurt anyone. My 14-year anger helped me to identify, accept and *own* my boundaries. The anger showed me where people had crossed the line from being coaches to being bullies. One by one I remembered the various times when someone crossed that line and just became a bully. Anger gave me this gift: I learned about my own boundaries and discovered that I don't have to just sit back and let people cross them.
Whenever I cook chicken in my pressure cooker, I love that moment when I turn the little nob and let out the pressure. I think of that as me letting out the 50 years of built-up steam in me that was cooking me from the inside out. Releasing that pressure feels SOOOO good. (As long as I'm not hurting anybody with my release).
I'm feeling done with the anger now. Not knowing how to let it go, I began a search for a teacher, and I found a book on Amazon that that's helping me do so: Letting Go: The Pathway of Surrender, by David R. Hawking. I don't know if this book is for everyone, or if it would have made any sense to me at all a month ago, but at this time in my healing journey, it's currently speaking to me in a good way. I think that when we are ready, the right books come along. If we try to read them when we're not ready, they don't help.
I think that if anger is allowed to flourish in a productive way, it gives us the gift of identifying our boundaries so we can learn where they are, learn how to defend them, and then move on in our healing. I'm glad to have had the anger. I'm relieved that 14 years was long enough and I can move on now.
And lordknows, most of us CPTSD folks on this forum have the right to be darned angry at some people from our past. We just need to be certain we don't take it out on ourselves, or others who don't deserve it, and as long as we don't hurt anyone or "lash out."
Sorry to flood your journal by continuing the discourse on anger, Slashy, and do please say if you would prefer me to take this to another thread for discussion. But I just wanted to pick up on Papa Coco's point about good and bad anger. I read somewhere that good anger is just that - anger. And that bad anger tends to be rage. When we see red and just lose it. Someone can be angry and express that anger but also be in full control and not lashing out. Like Papa C, I was not allowed to be angry. That was reserved for my mother, but when I think back she was never angry. She RAGED. Still does. It's a horrible thing to witness. Worse if directed at you, especially as a defenceless child.
In terms of letting the anger out, though, I have found physical methods to be far more effective and comforting than imagining all the awful things I would like to do. And then feeling guilty because I am not that person and I don't actually want to do awful things to anyone. Not even my mother. I took up boxing which has been a tremendous help. People in the gym joke around and ask me who I am pretending to hit as I batter the bag into oblivion. I can, quite truthfully. answer that I do not assign any identity to the bag. I'm just letting out my fight reaction in a healthy way.
All,
I found out today that all of the things you're talking about are what's going on with me. I thought that the heaviness in my chest was "sadness", but it's actually fear. That's why I couldn't cry and release it. I'm so out of touch with my emotions that I have a hard time telling them apart. :Idunno:
Yeah. I have an inner "Tuco" (I've named him) who I was unaware of and have had locked away since childhood. I'm understandably terrified of him.
You folks are giving me very useful insights into what I'll learn as I progress.
Thanks,
-Slashy
I need to better understand the DBR process. I go through it, feel and describe the physical sensations, and then I'm in a weird place emotionally that evening. Panic attacks, emotional swings, physical exhaustion, weird dreams...
I get that this is *supposed* to happen, but it's very unsettling. I don't like when things are happening to me that I don't understand.
--------------------------
I should also add the episode that was the 'trigger' for today's DBR.
I was at the local '80s arcade with my son, eating poutine and watching Back to the Future. My son asked me what year it was released, and I thought about it. '86 or '87, surely.
I have a timeline anchored around specific events. I was *definitely* in Western Psych during my breakdown in January '86. I know this because that's when the space shuttle challenger blew up. I had been listening to the launch cooped up on the window ledge in my room on my transistor radio.
I went to live with my father after I was released. He was single. *VERY* single. He rescued his GF and her children after I was in WP, not before. We saw Back to the Future in the theater together. I vividly remember the ride home. '86 or '87.
I googled it just to be sure. It was released in the summer of '85. That answer doesn't fit in with my timeline and it upset my entire day.
I hate it. I hate not clearly remembering where I lived when, the chronological order of events, the names of my teachers or even the schools I went to.
My childhood is a jumbled half- obscured minefield. If I probe around too much, it elicits terrible responses.
I'm not the sort of person that handles question marks well. When I have questions, I have a compulsive *need* to find answers. That doesn't work well with my survival response about not examining my childhood too closely. I need to know some of this stuff. Not all the gory details, just a basic reliable timeline. But at the same time I've subconsciously obscured all of that and punish myself for looking there at all.
Slashy,
I can feel the distress that you're talking about through your writing. I guess empathy comes from having felt similar things and knowing how to feel it again with another person.
In one or two of the books I've read lately, I think it might have been The Body Keeps the Score, the author talks about how our memories don't always file themselves in chronological order, but they attach to similar events or feelings, leaving us confused as we try to piece together the novel that is our life.
Still, it's unsettling. Even if it's not technically important that I remember chronologically, it feels like I'm crazy when I can't put the dates or the order to events.
I feel your unsettled questions. Once again, all I can offer is, you're not alone with this type of distress. Memories I can't place in the timeline have left me feeling uneasy and like I'm not sure if I trust my memories at all if I can't logically place them in the right order.
The experts say it's more important that we respect the validity and emotional feelings attached to the memories than it is the order and dates, but still...I do wish life was a little less chaotic and a bit more orderly.
Hey Slashy,
I'm sorry you're feeling that way after DBR. To be honest, that's the reason I didn't want to do it after my t suggested it (we had previously done EMDR but she suggested DBR for the preverbal things). To me, I got a lot out of IFS and felt like DBR would be bypassing important preverbal protector parts, which, in IFS, would/can cause issues as you're not supposed to bypass those parts of your system as all parts matter.
I think memories are tough because often they're connected with the idea of who we think we are ie the parts of us that did what we had to do to survive if that makes sense, and sometimes they're not dipping down into the painfult things that happened like you mentioned. I'm very good at talking about certain things that happened to me that are probably shocking to others, but for me, it's almost like it happened to someone else. Logically/chronologically I know that those things happened, but the feeling about what it was like at that time is coming from a different part of my brain. Unfortunately, I'm learning that I have to feel those feelings and grieve properly.
I hope you're able to find some space to deal with the things that are coming up for you,
dolly
All,
Trigger warning as usual (not for the squeamish)...
I recounted a dream I noted as 'important' this afternoon, and my T seemed taken aback by it.
It starts with me approaching a friend of the family about a prior transgression that I was upset about. To be clear, this transgression never happened in real life.
In the dream, she had punched me for no apparent reason the last time I'd seen her and found it uproariously hilarious.I had decided to confront her about it, explain to her why it had upset me and demand an apology, and she did it again! Laughed about it, and all my friends and family were there, laughing along with her.
I was so angry, I tried to throw a punch back at her as hard as I could... but I was frozen in place. I was unable to move.
I woke up from that dream absolutely furious! I hadn't lacked the ability, will, courage, or resolve to deliver that crippling blow I so desperately wanted to deliver, I was cheated by the physics of the dream; physical paralysis.
I've had lots of other dreams along these lines over the years, but never one where I woke up livid because I was denied the ability to severely injure someone in a dream. And after I woke up, I fantasized about how the dream "should have" ended; me delivering that devastating reply shot, her ending up unconscious with a broken jaw, skull fractures, unconscious on the pavement, with me berating her...
Neither of us were quite sure what that dream meant, but it scared the bejeezus out of me!
--------------------------------------------
Related story: I know that I am physically (if not mentally) capable of delivering such a devastating blow.
I was conditioned from early childhood to avoid confrontation and am a scrawny guy... so I've never had the opportunity to gauge the force of one of my punches. I just assumed it would be pitiful, so avoided any situation where I would need to rely on it.
2004, I was hanging out with my soon- to- be ex in the bar, and they were holding a competition to see who could hit the punch-o-meter arcade game the hardest.
I *really* didn't want to get involved in that, for fear of embarrassment. But they were all cajoling and insisting, so I eventually caved in and did it. I gave it everything I had because I was so afraid in the moment.
I punched the machine so hard that it literally broke. :aaauuugh:
Scared my wife (and myself), and ruined the mood of the party. Turns out that nobody likes "psycho- level" energy. Especially not me.
I don't want anyone to ever be afraid of me.
Best,
-Slashy
I can see how that dream could be scary and upsetting.
As for the punch-o-meter - well, that is very interesting to me. I do boxing for fitness and love it. BUT I refuse to do group classes because I want to feel able to give it my all. Being female I'd likely be partnered with another woman but I am tall, solid and strong. Punching a coach who I pay is one thing. Some fellow class attendee is quite another. I also will never do actual sparring - what I do is with the coach holding pads only. One coach started tapping me with the pads and I could feel my aggression ramp up and the danger of red mist. Like you say, nobody likes "psycho-level" energy. Why I have mentioned my boxing, though, is because knowing I could give someone a right old bash if necessary has made me feel much safer with me. I think it makes me safer with others, too. Not because I was ever likely to lash out physically but somehow knowing I now could, effectively, makes me feel safer mentally. Safer for others as well as for me. Maybe now you know your own strength there is less chance, not more, of anyone ever being afraid of you.
NarcKiddo,
My abuse left me avoidant and non- confrontational. I realize that different people respond in different ways, but that's how *I* responded...
Anyway, as a result of that I never had the opportunity up to that point to throw a proper punch, leaving me lacking confidence in that ability should the need arise. After that incident I no longer feared *that*, but my automatic response in a conflict remained "freeze".
Which leads me to the point of the dream.
After mulling it over, I believe the dream itself isn't as important as my emotional response to it although both are related.
I think my "fight" response is reemerging after having been suppressed since childhood.I'd wager that this dream and response is a common occurrence for people with a normal fight response.
Best,
-Slashy
Hi Slashy,
I relate to your dream. I feel like I have had this dream myself in different guises over the years - wanting to fight back when people are abusing you (humiliating you), but being powerless to do so is my childhood summed up. I think I still carry this feeling with me a lot and is probably why I feel so defensive at times. I can also slip into this powerlessness at times at the flick of a switch when faced with confrontation.
I also relate to "things" (emotions, experiences etc) comming up around people and then feeling critisized or judged for having them. In my experience, I hadn't been self aware at the time when they do come up, or have any self to realize that they're ok, even if other people didn't understand it, or that my reactions don't make me a psycho, or crazy.
Sending you support,
dolly
Dreams can be so cruel sometimes, usually digging things up from our subconscious, replaying our own personal fears. I've definitely felt dreams like the one you described, wanting to do something, but being completely physically paralysed. It is a frustrating feeling, like trying to lift a 1 ton weight, feeling the resistance from your own pushing, and the more you push, the more it seems to resist. I think these dreams often represent a feeling of helplessness, or powerlessness as dollyvee mentioned.
Quote from: GoSlash27 on November 01, 2024, 07:46:06 PMAfter mulling it over, I believe the dream itself isn't as important as my emotional response to it although both are related.
I think my "fight" response is reemerging after having been suppressed since childhood.I'd wager that this dream and response is a common occurrence for people with a normal fight response.
It being related to the fight response I think is a very accurate assessment. I think it might be a good opportunity to remind (and my apologies if you're already aware of this) that the fight response isn't always literally just punching and kicking. Although your dream did seem to take it the more literal way, the essence of fighting back can be presented in other ways - like taking control of our situations, expressing anger, moving towards danger rather than moving away. And although these can be unhealthy mechanisms depending on the situation, I think they can turned into healthier forms of fighting - like setting boundaries or venting our anger through exercise and art.
So, although you may feel like your fight response is re-emerging, I wouldn't be too concerned over potentially punching something too hard again - there are ways we can remove our powerlessness without going "psycho-level", and without others fearing us. :) Perhaps it is possible to combine the non-confrontational desires and the desires to fight into a balanced and healthy defense mechanism.
Hopefully that makes sense. They're just some silly ideas of mine, feel free to ignore it all if I've misinterpreted your comments here. Wishing you the best.
Regards,
Aphotic.