Out of the Storm

Hello everyone.
I was doing okay throughout the day. I had this gnawing feeling in my chest, like my heart was sinking and there's this lump in my throat, I've been feeling that for years.
Something that happened today that made me go from laughing to needing to cry badly (I cannot cry infront of anyone after my father slapped me for crying in front of him and on other occassions, but always threatened to beat me up whenever I'd cry. So the tears don't come anymore). What happened was he told me you're the kind of person who'd get herself kidnapped just to extort money from her father.
He doesn't even have that kind of money, he just has a pathologically high sense of self.
He called me a "mountain of meat".
My weight back in December was 209lbs. I've been working on it really hard. I'm down to 171lbs. Previously he used to refer to me as a "fat cow"
He repetitively told me to shut the * up. When I told him to leave my room, he didn't.
This is hurting me. I don't know why is this hurting me, maybe it's because I wanted him to love me, but he didn't. He doesn't. And he most certainly won't. Sometimes I feel like crying so hard, I end up laughing. But lately, the tears have dried up. They didn't stay with me either.
I feel heartbroken because my mother lived all her life with him. She never got to know what safety, love and happiness mean. It is breaking my heart because all her life is, a nightmare. It's hard when I'm in agony, it's even harder when someone I love is in pain. I love her so much, I don't think I take care of her as much as I want to or would like to. She is my sky, my sun, my whole world. I can't see her in pain, it's killing me. It is killing me.

16th August, 2024
I met my mentor at the college today. If we're going through a difficulty, we reach out to them.
As I was speaking to her about my family, I realized my father's behaviour to the child me was predatory. I remember one particular incident that stands out. As I was telling her, I remembered, and I can doubt my memory (although I remember exactly what happened this one time, I don't know if there were more because I just remember this one), but I can't doubt the sensations I feel in my body. I felt like crying, crying so hard. I couldn't. I couldn't. Instead I just talked to her and smiled a little. I did tell her though that I might look fine, but I'm absolutely broken inside. I am. I am shattered.
I still can't believe he would do something like that. Something sexual to his own daughter with his wife (my mother) right by his side and not saying anything at all. I knew life is hard, I just didn't know it was this hard.
Love and light

Hi Sunshineandwarmth,
I am glad you have a mentor you can talk to at the college.  I hope you feel some support from her.  I'm glad you were able to tell her how you're feeling inside. 
Hope  :)

Hi Sunshineandwarmth,

Like Hope said, I'm glad you have a mentor at college that you can speak with. I remember when I was your age and I was trying to find my way and navigate what I knew growing up with my family, it was a very confusing and difficult time. You're probably coming to grips with years of abuse and gaslighting, so I hope you can find some space to deal with that. I remember being a ball of emotions and breaking down in the psychologists office, who wasn't especially able to deal with an NPD mother, and feeling like it was all me again. It wasn't until another school and another therapist who suggested that my mother was NPD that I felt a little bit of relief, but unfortunately, I was still enmeshed with my family and thinking it was all me. It's not easy, but you're trying to find some support and answers.

Keep going  :cheer:
dolly

Hello
I had a dream today. In it, someone—maybe me, I'm not sure—was telling me that I am in control of my life. I don't remember much, but one thing stuck: *I decide for myself*. I make my own choices. No matter what happens, I get to live my life because I exist, and I am in charge of my future.

Today, I'm consciously choosing to be okay. To accept people as they are, not as the illusions I've projected onto them. My tendency to see the best in others is a reflection of my own goodness, not necessarily of them. Recently, I've made a few friends after a long social media detox, and though part of me fears they might criticize me like my family does, I remind myself that someone as strong as I am—someone who's been through so much—can handle criticism. And truly, people who care about your growth offer feedback with kindness. The rest? They're not focused on me as much as I think they are. I'm simply living.

It feels incredible to embrace even small moments of self-love. I love mornings, sunrises, and sunsets. I haven't had the chance to enjoy them lately because I've been so busy, but I love parks, children, smiles, and uninhibited laughter. Most of all, I'm starting to fall in love with being *me*. It feels amazing, and I know it's here to stay.

Sunshine

I know this post was sent three weeks ago, so I don't know if you still feel the warmth you were feeling the day you wrote it, but it is a wonderful post.

Happiness is an inside job. It's not an easy job in a world filled with trigger-traps, surprise attacks and a long-arc for our memories to stay with us, but ultimately these days when we feel like the world really is beautiful are wonderful days.

Have you had more of those dreams? It sounds like some part of you, one of your IFS parts, or your higher self, or maybe even a message from beyond, was ready to remind you of your own power.

What a GREAT dream.

Again, I realize I'm 3 weeks late in responding to this post, so I hope some of that joy is still with you today.

Hi
It's 6th October, 2024.
Trigger Warning
I tried to kill myself today, I opened my mother's medical box, took out a couple leaflets of metformin, and another medication that I now don't remember the name of. Took it in my left hand, contemplating whether to ingest it, I had a glass of water right infront of me. All of this would be over, I thought to myself.
My sister must have heard me somehow, and appeared out of nowhere, screamed to wake our mom up, and they took the pills from me. Apparently, they saved my life, but they also contributed to me ending up in a situation where I wanted to end my life.
My father always says, I'm just manipulating him to get him to raise my monthly allowance. And all this while, I am thinking, maybe I wouldn't have taken the pills, maybe I was just being manipulative like he said I was. Maybe I am what he says I am.
I recently realized he has been behaving incestuously.
I told my mother to either leave him, or be prepared if I leave. She didn't say anything. Her silence was answer enough.
Why is it that there's no one to turn to when we need someone to desparately hold onto? Not even your own mother?
I think I'm losing everything I have held dear.
Love and loss, seem so synonymous to me.
Sometimes I wonder, if I had to choose between this version of me that loves people endlessly, to someone who has never loved at all, which one would I choose?
Thank God, I don't have to make that decision. I'm pretty unreasonable when it comes to love. Or should I say, as the quote goes, where there is love, there is no reason.
I have no idea what I am saying. Anyway, I would like it if anyone replied.
Thanks for reading.

Hello Sunshineandwarmth, I'm here, I'm reading. And I'm confident others will follow. I'm so sorry to hear of your attempt to end your life. And I'm distressed that it is so difficult for you to get help. I believe you must try to reach out to your school officials, therapist, trusted friends, trusted doctor, to try and get help. The abuse you are experiencing is not your fault or responsibility. But to face this abuse you are in great difficulty and clearly danger of taking rash steps. Please, if you can, try to get help. I wish I could do more. Know that you are not alone, your words are heard and we understand your struggle. This should not be happening to you. You are beautiful and have value. You deserve love. Please reach out to professional help around you.
Thinking of you and sending love and support, Chart
 :hug:

Sunshineandwarmth, the following is taken from the forum's Suicide Ideation/Self Harm page. See full link at the bottom.

One way of helping yourself if you are having thoughts of suicide is to visit Staying Safe from Suicidal Thoughts.  This online help site offers "easy to print / online templates and guidance video tutorials purposefully designed to help people through the process of writing their own Safety Plan to build hope, identify actions and strategies to resist suicidal thoughts and develop positive ways to cope with stress and emotional distress."

https://www.cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=5897.0

6th October, 2024
This is what I wrote a while ago.
The moor stretches endlessly, a desolate, wind-swept expanse of earth, bristling with the wild and the uncontained. The sky, smudged with muted hues of dawn, hangs heavy with clouds that seem reluctant to break apart. The sun, a pale, hazy disk, offers no warmth, only a dull reminder that a new day has begun. Dust eddies swirl around, stinging the skin like tiny needles. You stand in the midst of this barren wasteland, eyes closed against the assault of the wind, as if guarding yourself from the world that has bruised you over and over.

But you're not just standing—you're suspended between two worlds: one where pain has silently festered within, and one where release teeters on the edge of a scream.

When your eyes slowly open, there's a moment of stillness—a breath that catches in your chest as if your lungs are unsure whether to expand or collapse. The air tastes like grit and earth, sharp and unfamiliar. Yet, as you take in that first deliberate breath, something changes. The sensation is not just of air filling your lungs, but of something far more alive—like petals unfurling within the hollow of your ribcage. The metaphor of a garden blooming isn't simply poetic; it's visceral. Each inhalation is a careful, hesitant sprouting of life where once there was only the suffocating weight of emptiness. Flowers you never knew existed in the barren soil of your soul push through the cracks, desperate and beautiful, turning your lungs into a landscape of fragile hope.

When you exhale, it's not a release—it's a reckoning. The air that rushes out isn't just expelled breath; it's a torrent of emotions that have been trapped, knotted tight and strangling inside. It's anger, grief, sorrow, and a thousand unnamed agonies—emotions that were never allowed to breathe, now tearing their way out of your chest in a rush. The sound that escapes isn't a simple sigh but a tremor, a quaking of your entire being as though the very foundation of who you are is shaking loose. The lump in your throat, that wretched mass of everything you've swallowed down, melts not like a gentle thaw but like a glacier cracking apart, collapsing under its own unbearable weight.

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up—legs trembling, muscles giving way. The ground rushes up to meet you as if it's been waiting for this moment. Knees slam into the dirt, and pain shoots up through your bones, grounding you, rooting you to this forsaken earth. Your fingers claw at the mud, curling into the gritty, unyielding soil as if you could tear through to the center of the world. It's not just dirt beneath your nails; it's the weight of the past, the heaviness of years of suppressed cries and shattered dreams, clumping between your fingers, weighing down your hands.

The scream comes next—a jagged, raw sound that feels foreign in your throat. It isn't a cry for help; it's a roar of despair, a howl of grief that rips through the air, shattering the silence. It's as though your soul has found its voice, a voice that had been gagged and bound for years, now tearing free. The sound is primal, guttural—a wounded animal's cry of agony and defiance, a declaration that you are here. That despite everything, despite the world's attempts to silence you, you exist. And in that moment, you are nothing but sound and sensation—a creature of pain and release, emptying out everything that has been festering and rotting inside.

The scream echoes back at you, not diminishing but amplifying, reverberating through the air like a shockwave. The moor takes it in, absorbs it, and throws it back at you, a twisted mirror of your own suffering. For the first time, you can hear yourself. Your pain has a voice, and it rings out across the desolation, fierce and unbroken. It is both terrifying and exhilarating, the realization that you can scream and the world will not shatter around you. You scream again, louder this time, and it's as if the universe itself is answering, acknowledging your anguish, your rage.

The world around you shifts. The wind, once biting and cold, softens. The trees, stoic sentinels in the distance, lean closer, branches whispering in a language only your grief can understand. They do not judge, do not flinch at the sight of your tears. They sway and murmur as if in sympathy, their leaves trembling in response to your sobs. It's as though they, too, have known pain, loss, and loneliness. And in their rustling, you hear acceptance. The trees breathe with you, their presence wrapping around you like a shroud, like arms that would hold you if they could. They are old, ancient, and wise, and their silence is not the silence of indifference, but the silence of a mother holding her weeping child, absorbing each sob and tremor.

You feel them intertwining with you—not just in imagination, but in reality. The earth beneath your knees pulses softly, responding to your touch. It's not dirt anymore, but something alive, something that embraces your fingers as if it, too, knows what it is to be broken. The wind that once cut at your skin now feels like a lover's caress, gentle and consoling. It whispers through your hair, brushing away the tears on your cheeks, drawing you in closer, promising that here, in this wild, untamed place, there is no need to hide. There is no shame in being raw and bleeding, in breaking apart. The moor, the trees, the wind—they are part of you now, and you are part of them.

And then comes the stillness. The sobs subside into soft whimpers, your body heavy and spent, collapsed against the earth. "It is safe," you murmur to yourself, voice trembling. "It is safe here." It's not a statement—it's a plea, a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, you've found a place where the pain cannot follow, where your secrets can lie buried in the soil and be kept by the trees, who will never speak of them.

"It is safe," you say again, louder this time, as if the very earth needs to hear it. "Safe." The word hangs in the air, fragile, trembling like a bird poised to take flight. You close your eyes, feeling the wind brush against your face, the ground steady beneath your knees. For the first time in a long time, you feel solid. Not whole, but not hollow either. Just there. The presence of pain has not left, but here, in this sacred solitude, it feels manageable—like you can finally sit with it, breathe through it, without the fear of being destroyed by it.

And in this place, this wild, desolate, beautiful place, you realize that maybe, just maybe, the safety you've been searching for has always been within you. Hidden beneath the scars and the screams, buried deep in the soil of your being, waiting for the moment when you could finally let it take root and bloom into something that looks a lot like hope.
Listening to: Dandelions by Ruth B.

Sunshine,

I feel like this nice post is placed in my path today because my therapist left our last session saying, "I believe you have a scream still inside you that needs to come out." I'd told him how much I hate people who tell me to "scream into a pillow" because I have to fake the scream, and it feels stupid and only embarrasses me. He said he always feels exactly the same way. BUT that if a scream really is inside of us, we can work to create a safe path for it to organically finally release.

I guess I could say that I now realize, CBT therapists work backwards. They know it is good to scream so they tell me to scream.  Good trauma therapists also know that it is good to scream when needed, but instead of just telling me to do it, they help me find a way to let it come out when it's ready. Again: that's the difference between a common therapist and a gifted healer.

What you've posted here is beautifully written and timely for me. I think I'll read it again tomorrow and then again on Tuesday just before my next Therapy session. It's a good overview of the benefits of letting out the storms that live within us.

Thanks for posting this very well written poetry about letting out the pain and how good it can feel once it's out.

PC

Sunshineandwarmth, I found what you wrote extraordinarily beautiful. Thank you for sharing that. You are a very talented writer. Please continue.
Love and hugs, Chart

7th October, 2024
Writing:
I couldn't tell them. I just couldn't bring myself to say I was hurting. I was bleeding from the inside, and the harder I tried to stop it, the worse it got. Every attempt to apply pressure only made the hemorrhage deeper, more agonizing. My resolve was leaking out in vivid colors, pooling beneath my ribs, trapped within the fragile cage of my own body. I knew I was on the edge, but only I saw it—no one else noticed how close I was to falling, to tipping over an abyss I couldn't climb back from.

Sometimes, I think I'm not someone capable of being loved. People like me aren't made for love; we're made to give. We give everything we have, praying that someone, someday, will love us back. We mistake charity, pity, and fleeting sympathy for love because we've never truly known what it feels like. Because the hands meant to cradle me choked the breath out of my lungs until I gagged them away. Until they made sure that whatever trace of humanity I once held was smothered. Until they made sure I was broken. Until they took every last shred of my honor and crushed it beneath their fingers. Until they hollowed me out from the inside.

Now, when someone wipes my tears, I flinch, because all I can think is that they're just getting their hands dirty. Because who would willingly touch something as tainted as me? Who would lay a gentle hand on something rancid, something that reeks of ruin, something that radiates a kind of destruction so potent it must have been beautiful, once? Something so raw it can never be touched enough, something so dangerous it could give life—or just as easily take it away.

I hate it. I hate this festering wound inside me that makes me crave love like an addict. I hate how I keep loving people so fiercely, despite knowing they'll never love me back. For once, just once, I want to be loved the way I love. For a single fleeting moment, I want to be cherished. I want to be held when I cry. I want to be looked at as if I'm something worth treasuring. I want to feel the warmth of a kiss on my hand or the soft press of a palm against my cheek.

For once in my life. Is that really too much to ask?

But it is. It always has been.

For once, I want my sins to find their * in someone's arms and be burned away. I want my shadows to cower at the light of someone's love. I want my wounds to be tended to by hands that don't recoil. I want to be held when I shatter. I want to be held when I cry.

I want to be held.

 :bighug:
You deserve to be held, Sunshineandwarmth... You deserve love...
The pervasive wisdom with Cptsd is that now we have to do for ourselves what our parents never did... We have to love ourselves without ever having known what love is. No map, no instructions, no guide... Blind fumbling in the corners and shadows. But we're not alone in these somber places, there are many like us in here. I've always found it small consolation that others suffer like me. But at least I know I'm not alone. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but for once I'm glad I'm not special.

It's not too much to ask Sunshineandwarmth. I hope you can feel us holding you and each other here through the screen.
 :grouphug:

Hi Chart,
Thank you so much for your thoughtful response. I've never felt more understood than I did when I read your words. Sometimes I feel so numb that I forget I'm being abused—it all feels like a dream. It's as if my baseline stress levels are already so high that when I encounter real stress, my mind can't differentiate it from my 'normal state.'

I can't express how much your offer to help means to me. All I've ever wanted was to know that someone could offer support, and you did that. Just offering was more than enough. And the words you shared—full of empathy and understanding—are more helpful than you realize. There's a saying I came across recently: 'I can't carry your pain, but I can carry you.'

I think that when we strive to understand someone else, even just a little, we heal something inside them. We help restore some of their shattered hope. You did exactly that for me. Thank you for being there.

And thank you for the link! I'll definitely check it out. I also write sometimes, though I'm not sure if it's really worth reading. But your compliment means the world to me.

That's what makes love worth pursuing—it's not something served on a platter. It's something I must seek and find.

Hi Desert Flower,

I do feel held. I've recently realized that my love language is physical touch. I'm both touch-starved and touch-repulsed at the same time—a contradiction that leaves me torn. I need to hold onto something just to sleep because I'm so afraid all the time. I have a pillow that I cling to, pretending it's someone's comforting presence beside me.

Sometimes, when my mother sleeps next to me during my dissociative states and regressions, I reach out. I try to put her cheek on my palm or rest my own cheek against hers. I hold her hand. I scoot her pillow a little closer, just to feel the warmth of human love. In those moments, I feel connected. I feel held. Maybe it's the oxytocin—perhaps it's the same feeling that flooded through us when she gave birth to me, and I was placed against her chest for the first time, our bare skin touching.

Her love language is acts of service. Her love is quiet, expressed in what she does rather than what she says. But it isn't long before she thinks I'm asleep. Gently, she pulls her hands back and turns over to sleep on her natural side. She's a left-sided sleeper. And one thing she truly loves is sleep. I pretend to be asleep, so she can have her peace. I wish all of us had someone to hold onto like that. And sometimes, I think it would be nice to have someone who wouldn't let go—even when we drift off—someone we could ask to stay, knowing they always will.

Sunshineandwarmth,
You are an absolutely lovely writer. Please continue. Please know you are very talented. Your words flow and caress like the scenes you describe.

Have you thought about finding help and support in the form of a therapist or trusted person? Please take care of yourself.
 :hug:

Dear PapaCoco

I was waiting for an inspirational moment before I replied. An epiphany. I need a motive to write—a realization that pulls words out of me. It feels like my mind knows more than my physical self. My spirit is constantly sending me hidden messages about who I am, where I'm heading, and where I've been.

You mentioned CBT therapists, and I'm exploring pathways of how I could become a healer. But fear holds me back. What if my struggles worsen? What if I don't make it? What if I have no one to rely on but myself? What if I'm not a healer but someone who hurts people? What if I'm not empathetic enough? Most of all, do I even deserve to pursue this path?

I feel stuck—like stagnant water, unable to flow. Some days, self-doubt overwhelms me. But just when I'm on the verge of giving up, I think of the child I once was—the one who had no one to count on. I see myself holding her hand now, and I can't let go. She deserves better. And maybe that's reason enough to keep going.

But seriously though am I worth it? I don't know. But that little girl is.

Sunshine

10th October, 2024

I love watching people fall in love. There's something magical about it. One of my close friends has been crushing on this guy for months now, and she talks about him all the time. She's adorable—she goes on and on about his biceps, his cute looks, his voice, and, of course, his sense of humor.

Yesterday, I decided to reach out to him—him and I are in the same batch—with her consent, of course. When I mentioned it, he said he wasn't interested in dating, but I noticed he was quite curious to know who had been admiring him. My friend, being the shy, coy person she is, just blushed and said, "Tell him I won't bother him anymore."

But here's the interesting part: I have a feeling he might secretly like her too. She's the only girl he asked about, and there was something in his tone that seemed more than just curiosity. I don't know where this is heading, but they would be so cute together.
It is so heartwarming to see such beautiful encounters.
I am so excited for her I feel all giddy and anxious. It is like all the butterflies in the world have found a permanent residence inside my stomach.
I just hope people would love without reason. Or beyond it.

It would be nice if this happened to me too. But I'm not healed enough to have that. One day.

If you believe in a higher power, please say a prayer for them. I'd love to see my friend happy.

Love conquers all,
Sunshine

13th October, 2024
I went to my friend's house for her first birthday after her father's passing. My other friend and I were excited. She was bringing a cake from my favorite bakery, and I had brought burgers, chicken strips, and fries. I was eager—not just for the food, but to see her. We stayed for over two hours, with all the food we'd brought sitting right in front of us, untouched. She never bothered to serve it. Instead, she fried a few nuggets and some boneless chicken—barely enough to fill a small plate. There were five nuggets and maybe four spoonfuls of chicken. She told us to share that plate between the three of us.

Her sister made coffee, and we ate from that tiny plate while the food we'd brought stayed in plain sight. The cake, from a pricey bakery, had her name written on it. We'd spent quite a bit of money on it all. I'd even mentioned that the food we brought was my favorite. Still, she didn't ask about it once. This wasn't the first time she'd done something like this, and I'm angry—but I don't even know how to feel.

I don't know, am I missing something? Maybe she just forgot?

Sunshine,

That is a first for me. I don't recall ever being in a situation where the host refused to feed their guests with the food that was sitting right there in front of them. She is either in very deep distress over something, or she was trying to make people leave by refusing to feed them.  When my sons were adults and being bad houseguests, disrespectful, unhelpful, steeling our dishes and lying about it, etc, we put them in the smallest bedrooms we had and took over the bathroom that was near the bedrooms so they'd have to go all they way downstairs to use the bathroom. We wanted them to be as uncomfortable living with us as we could so they'd get motivated to find jobs and move out. I wonder if your friend was doing that to you all. Purposely being a bad host so you'd leave????

I don't know. I got nuthin'. Whatever made her do that is beyond anything I've ever experienced.

If you ever figure out why she did that, let me know. I'm seriously curious.

PapaCoco
I think I figured out why she did what she did.
I'm glad I figured it out before talking to her about it.
Here's what I think:
She lost her father a few months back. This was her first birthday without him. She was pretty close to him. It is possible that she might be dissociating, and forgot? It's hard to forget something that's right in front of you, but I'd like to believe she just.. forgot. She is going through alot after her father's passing. Maybe this was an honest mistake and not a deliberate attempt at humiliating me.
My mother says we shouldn't be so understanding so as to overlook disrespect. I have yet to understand what that means.
And truth be told, I was disappointed when I came back home that day, but now in retrospect, it was okay. Atleast I did what a friend should do.
I'm glad I went to celebrate her birthday, even when she didn't cut the cake with us or feed us.
People have their reasons and sometimes, I may not understand what those reasons are, but I'll try to, because I know what it feels like to not be understood.
I don't know if I'm disrespecting myself, but I do know one thing, I understand because I love. And I love, because I haven't been loved.
So I give too much and I won't get it back, but for me, it's okay.
It is okay for me.

Love
Sunshine

PapaCoco, is it okay to love people that don't love us back? Because I do. Am I stupid?

16th October, 2024
I'm scared. I think I might be unlovable.
I'm scared the people I love will find this out about me too.
I'm so scared.
I'm sorry, I just feel so lonely. I'm sorry, I'm just scared.
Please help.

I don't think you are unlovable, not at all. I do think you are having an emotional flashback though to times when you were made to feel that way by people who should have loved you but were incapable. Sending hugs.

18th October, 2024

This is what I wrote today:


None of the monsters under her bed made her bury her face in a muffled pillow as a child. But the ones in the house slammed doors, shattered glass, and left bruises where no one could see them. Her broken, shaky sobs stained her walls in a viscous, murky red, as if her grief had crawled across the room, swallowing any faint light that might have slipped through the cracks.

The End.

Sunshineandwarmth, we're here with you. Sending support. Please be well and know that you are worthy of love.

32rd October no its 31st there's no 32rd. Stupid me.
This post is going to be really chaotic.

It feels like dying. It feels like death. I am terrified of my father all the time, I want to run away, and I don't want to be found ever.

He says, I'm hard to tolerate. He says. He says. He says. And then he shuts up, clenches his teeth, bits his lips, flares his nostrils, his eyes scream warnings at me and I'm scared and I'm scared and I'm so so scared. And and my body is shaking and he I can't cry because he told me if I did he'd give me a reason to cry for. And I just need to hold onto someone and cry for a little while, but I don't want to be a burden. I am a burden, so maybe it is best to build walls and not let people in.
But God, I would love to be hugged, for the rest of my life.
And I ask for too much, and he says I'm a leech and thats sucking life right out of him. And and he said if he killed me, that would be accidental. And I wonder how come someone can predict an accident?
And I am scared and I don't want to die, and I think I'm already dead but I need to cry.

I just need a hug.
I got myself, I just need a hug. Please.

 :bighug:

Sending so many many long safe hugs to last until you can get out of there. No one deserves to be treated like that by anyone let alone their father.  :hug:

Sending you hugs too.  :hug:  You do not deserve to be treated like that.

Desert Flower and Armee,
I am crying right now, I really needed hugs. And now I got loads of them! I feel loved and supported. I feel so loved. I feel loved. I feel like I might be loved. I feel so loved.
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you

You are loved, and loveable. Just not by those monsters, who cannot love. I'm sorry they are who received you in this life. There's more out there. Better.  :grouphug:

You're so welcome! We all need it. Sending you some more hugs  :hug:

You so deserve love, Sunshineandwarmth. Sending love and hope. Love and hope for everything you deserve as a good, decent person. Please take care of yourself. Hugs and support, chart

19th Novemner, 2024
Last week, both my parents has tested positive for a viral infection. It was pretty bad. I thought I had lost them.
Especially my abusive father was pretty bad. His reports didn't come out very well. And I had taken him to the ER in an emergency. Throughout the car ride, he kept taunting me for waking him up in the middle of the night for something so trivial. He said, you haven't grown up old enough to tell me what to do. I had taken him to the hospital because he might possibly have needed a platelet transfusion. He said I disturbed his sleep cycle.
Throughout his sickness, he would have that helpless face on. I would take care of him. And still hear stuff like, why would I take the medicine by myself? Why won't you give it to me? He was pretty worried about his blood reports getting pretty bad, and I remembered when I used to bleed, he would just say shut the **** up, you just like being dramatic. And now, he was acting like he was the most helpless person alive.
Everything that I would do, he would make sure to tell me he would beat me up for it when he is well. And that I am stupid, and that I'm not intelligent enough to give him medical advice (I'm in med school). He would be nice when I obeyed him, when I didn't, or even when I stayed quiet when he needed an answer, he would turn into this monster I have learned to recognize, is my father.
As for my mother, there was one full day where she didn't wakeup, didn't talk. Her blood pressure dropped too low. Her Oxygen, even lower. And I was getting her to the hospital. And he said, don't be ******* stupid. Shut up and sit down.
I hadn't been sleeping for a week, taking care of them. So one night, when my mother was coughing, I rushed to her room, only to be cussed at and told to get out by my father and not to disturb them anymore. I had to check her vitals every 2 hours! And he kicked me out of the room at 12 am, told me I can't come in till 9 am in the morning. The next day, told me he did this, so I could sleep properly. He could have been respectful.
As he had gotten better the next couple of days, he humiliated my brother and told him to throw our cat out of the house. Called him a son of a *****. Yelled at my sister for crying because she was getting depressed. Twice. Told someone on the phone they could die. He didn't care at all. His room door was closed, and I could hear him all the way across the house in my room. He was yelling at someone.
My aunt had come over to stay with us because my mum was so sick. Humiliated her too. Even though she took care of him, and her. And everyone else.
One day, he asked me to sleep in his room. Its cold here, and he keeps the door open (the door opens into a gallery; an open space). I told him I would get sick. He said, fine, but only one of us are getting rest tonight, and it is you. Then, in the morning, when I definitely had caught the cold, he said, you haven't been taking care of yourself for the winter. You're irresponsible.
I told him not to continuously get angry at people or yell at them. It spikes up blood pressure, and I'd rather he have a stable one. He asked me if he ever got angry at anyone. He had yelled at 4 different people that day.
But it is not just that, he is affectionate when he wants too. He would pick me up, drop me off. Pay for me. Buy me stuff. Pay for my tuition. Sometimes, he would even massage my head, if I had a headache. And sometimes, I was scared, he would kill me, like he had threatened to so many times before. He said he was only joking. But the same joke doesn't make one laugh every single day. Does it?
My mother's better. Thank God.
I have been dissociating a lot. I'm looking forward to my therapy session today. Let's see how it goes.
Also, my bestfriend who lives 5 minutes away, I had sent her a video of my ailing mother, begging her to support me during that difficult time, and she responded with. You need to be strong. I can't come, I have to pick up my sister from somewhere. I told her crying at 2 am that I was afraid I was gonna lose them. The next day, her boyfriend told me she was out for ice cream. Her phone was turned off, after I had specifically told her to keep it on. And when her boyfriend gave me her other number, she said, you had my number. You didn't have to ask him for it. All my close friends have that number. You should've called me on here.
She had the audacity to say that when only a few hours ago, I had told her I might lose my mother. She just responded with, May God bless her and Bye. I had no one. I needed help. I had begged her for it. She didn't care.
This is a pattern. When I was sick, and told her to come over see me, she said, she gets tired after the college, and weekends are super busy. She didn't even ask how I was doing.
I love her alot. Maybe thats why it is hurting too much. But I am done, I have stopped making excuses for people. People are what they show themselves to be. I am gonna continue my life, with that rule etched in the deepest parts of my cortex. If she did care, I would have known. And this girl, I would have gone to the ends of the world for her.
Sometimes, I think maybe I expect too much from people.
I wish better people are on the way.
Love and Light
Me

Hi.
I'm sorry if I said something wrong, nobody's replying and it feels like I messed up something again. I genuinely am very sorry if I offended anyone.

Love and Light
Sunshine

Quite the opposite dear. I was grief stricken for you, all you are carrying. All the care and love you are providing not just to the people who abused you but who are actively abusing you while providing care. I was at a loss for words and knowing I didn't have enough time to give justice to what you are going through.  :grouphug: 

Armee, Desert Flower, Chart, thank you so much for responding. I feel seen and understood.

November 21st, 2024.
I have exams starting 2nd December. I can't study. I sit down, open my books, dissociate, my head throbs and then, my mind just shuts down and I sleep. It has been like that these past couple of days.
There is a storm bubbling up inside me. In my therapy session, my therapist had asked me where did I feel pain, and I had told her my chest. By the end of the session, the pain had formed a lump in my throat. I wish I could cry. But she said, when we are attuned to our feelings, only then we can express them. I realized I don't recognize my feelings as something that makes up who I am, a part of me.
It is getting really overwhelming. But I wanted to share something positive.
My grandfather sat beside me while I was having a breakdown and struggling with sleep. I held onto him when my parents got sick. He held my hand as I slept. And when I woke up, he was still holding it.
Made me feel like the world isn't so bad after all.
I have been forgetting alot of stuff. And I want to sleep all the time. And I am feverish, just mildly, every single time I check. I have had problems with my blood pressure and pulse rate being high.
My family thinks this is nothing to make a big deal out of. That, I am being dramatic. Sometimes, I think, if this is a dream, all of this, life itself, and I'd wake up one day.
Other days, I'm just alive in a nightmare.

To a better future and to hope
Me.

Quote from: Sunshineandwarmth on November 20, 2024, 07:51:22 AMHi.
I'm sorry if I said something wrong, nobody's replying and it feels like I messed up something again.

Not at all, Sunshineandwarmth. I think Armee described it well: "I was at a loss for words". I can't speak on everyone's behalf but I can at least explain that I feel a great deal of empathy, hearing of your struggles. But sometimes I feel that my words may not be beneficial, or I fear that I may make things worse for you. I would write a simple "I hear you", but then I'd feel guilty for not writing more. But you are definitely in my thoughts and I'm wishing the best for you always.

I'm sorry you're having difficulties with your exam preparation. Just remember to practice some self care, take things one step at a time. I especially relate to your difficulties with memory, forgetting a lot of things... it can be a hard problem to deal with.

Regards,
Aphotic.

Sunshineandwarmth, I'm checking in finally, it's been awhile. I'm sorry to hear about your struggles with your parents. You are giving so much. I'm amazed. Hope therapy is progressing and that your concentration has returned for your studies. Sending hugs and support, Chart
 :hug:

Dear AphoticAtramentous and Dear Charts,
Thank you so much for your responses. I am grateful.
27th November, 2024
I couldn't bring that girl back. The smile on her face. The unguarded innocence that was herself. The child she was. I couldn't bring back the tiny being that was me. The small hands, small fingers, even smaller teeth. Small shoes, beaded shoes, plastic heels. Curly-haired dolls. I couldn't bring her back. I couldn't bring her back no matter how hard I tried.

I couldn't bring back the girl who cried alone while her parents were fast asleep on either side of her. I couldn't bring her back. I couldn't possibly. I couldn't bring back the teary eyes and the tearless sobs. The breakdowns and the highs. The validation and love, the disregard and dismissal. I couldn't bring that girl out of myself.

She's still inside, knocking on every door as if love is hiding and, somehow, would invite her inside. So far, a lot of doors have been knocked. All of them have knocked her out. All of them told her to knock it off. All of them taught her not to knock on another door at all.

I couldn't forgive them for the hurt they caused the little girl who is still inside me. I am still learning how to parent her. She likes being held as she cries. She wakes up in the middle of the night screaming. She gets startled easily. She likes to hold hands as she falls asleep. That small assurance, that there is someone, something that loves her close by, is a safe space for her.

She needs someone to put both hands on either side of her face and tell her it's okay. Multiple times. That I am here for the girl in me. That I am here. That it's alright as long as I've got her. That I am her, just from the future. That I will take care of her. That she can make mistakes, and it's still okay. That she can mess up—it's a totally human thing to do. That she doesn't need to be afraid of anyone. That she can tell me everything.

I am here for her. I always will be. I will because I have immense love for her.

The grief I feel is because I hadn't acknowledged that she existed before. Now I do, and I've realized she was the love I was seeking all along. It was inside me. In the little me. In the me I had pushed down. In the me that was ashamed. In the me that is here, that has always been here.

I won't sleep alone tonight. I will sleep soundly, like a baby, because I know the baby me is not alone now. She has me—someone she can trust. She can trust me not to hurt her. She can trust me with all her pain, and I will keep it as close as if it were my own. Because it is.

I think that is the essence of love—there is no "you" and "I" left. It is just us. One soul, two bodies.

The little girl is safe. She has someone protecting her. That someone is me.

I imagine running my hands through her hair while she's falling asleep. Kissing her forehead. I imagine cuddling her to sleep. I imagine giggling with her, dressing her in clothes she likes. I imagine her in all that she is, outside of the shame and guilt. I imagine her for who she is—love itself.

She is love itself.

A calm has settled over me now. I have found the ONE. I have found the one I will spend the rest of eternity with. I have found the one I love. I have found the one I will grow with. I have found light and wisdom and freedom.

Love and Light,
The little girl.

November 28th, 2024

The girl in me is scared. The little girl is hiding right now, afraid to come out. I feel her grief in my chest, bubbling to my throat, desperate to spill out. I cried yesterday in my therapy session. I have started to cry, to grieve. I felt safe enough with this therapist to start crying—something that has happened two long years after one of my best therapists told me I need to cry to feel the pain, to finally be able to let go.

I am feeling the pain now, in all its intensity. The girl is still afraid. I could tell her to come out. I could tell her that it is safe. But I won't. I will let her take her time. When she is ready. Whenever she is. I am here for her. No pressure. She has me. I've got her. I would welcome her whenever she is ready to come out. And I won't ever get tired of waiting for her. I won't give up one day, even if she keeps me waiting for too long. No. That will never happen.

I will sit down outside her door as she sobs. It feels like two characters in a book, one with their back against the door, sobbing, and the other begging them to open up, to tell them they care. But I won't ask her to open up until she is ready to do so. I just want her to know that I am right outside, waiting for when she chooses to open the door herself. That I am right on the other side. That I would never leave. That I couldn't possibly leave her. That I love her. And when you love someone, you don't abandon them. Their grief is your grief. Their joy is your joy.

So here I am, waiting on the little girl as she mourns and grieves. She has just started to do so. It is painful to hear her sob, but I know this is the way for her to heal. For us to heal.

She is teaching me resilience—that sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves is take a step back and let ourselves grieve, to feel, to experience the loss and the pain in its entirety before we can finally let it go. I can't possibly let go of something I haven't even held in my hands. So I need to hold the sadness before I choose to let it go.

Love and Light (I think it is this salutation that has helped me find my way to love and light)
Sunshine

 :hug:

I'm glad you're able to grieve, Sunshine - as painful as it can be in the moment, I hope it will help to wash some of the pain away in due time.

Regards,
Aphotic.

Chart, thank you so much for the hug, I needed that.
Aphotic, I understand what you said completely, I will have to grieve to wash away some of the pain away.
Apart from grief what helps with recognizing and healing from pain? I would love to hear y'alls perspectives and insights on this.

November 29th, 2024
I woke up at 6 30am. The mornings always calm me down. I usually am curious to see the sky in the mornings, the sun rising on the horizon. It has been a long time since I have watched the sunrise, it has always filled me up with an euphoric feeling inside. Like a tingling sensation in my entire body. A giddiness. I can feel the euphoria spreading through my body, it starts at my jaw, my shoulder blades are next. I rarely feel it in my abdomen. I have noticed I don't feel anything in my abdomen at all. My T asked me where did I fely grief? I had told her somewhere between my chest and abdomen, somewhere deep inside. It is like a solid mountain, its roots are buried deep inside me. Maybe that doesn't allow me to feel anything else at all.
I had always suffered from stomach issues ever since I was a child. No diagnosis was ever made. The reports were inconclusive. But my chest and abdomen would hurt a lot. At that time, once when my parents had thought I was asleep, my dad told my mum, she's lying. I believed him, and I thought I was lying too. I believed him more than I believed myself.
I wrote on the forum the first thing in the morning, I have decided to not be distracted when I am doing something important such as being on the forum. It helps me connect with people better.
I went to sleep again soon after. One of the things I have really liked is going back to sleep in the mornings. I am glad I am realizing the things I have loved ever since I was small.
Went to the gym at around 11 am. Really pushed myself for 40 minutes. Gym makes me feel something, thats why I go there. Mostly I have felt numb, so going to the gym, makes me feel something. This is progress since in the past, being in situations where I was being abused made me feel something. Being in unsafe situations made me feel alive. I have realized now, I baseline stress levels are higher than normal, so when faced with dangerous threats, my body feels something.
Thank God, I realized it was unhealthy. What helped me was, if someone was being way too kind to me, asking intrusive questions, that rang a bell in my mind- manipulator on radar. All manipulators I had seen in my life were skilled orators. Highly regarded and respected. Saints outside of their homes. Monsters inside.
One of my friends at the gym is getting married to her boyfriend. I am happy for her. I think it will be a long time before I let someone in my life to be more than just friends.
If they even suggest it, I could say, like neighbours?
Or worse, siblings?
The idea itself makes me chuckle.
But I would love to feel safe with someone one day. And my T, said before that happens I need to feel safe with myself.
Came back home, checked up on a few family members that were sick. Studied. I cannot concentrate for longer periods of time. I didn't get much done but I got something done. That is progress.
I constantly checked in on the little girl inside me, sometimes she was hiding, other times she would be bawling or asleep. She sleeps pretty early.
I mentally ran a loving hand through her hair, held her in my arms, consoled her. And told her I was there for here, I always will be, because my love for her wasn't conditional. Love for me, is unconditional. Selfless, beyond one self. I don't think I could ever explain love enough to fulfill the criteria of all that love is. For me, it is all the skies and all the seas in all the galaxies in every single one the universes. Infinite, uncountable, beyond comprehension.
I have realized I understood yesterday a subatomic part of it, when I thought about a friend, and instantly felt connected to him, like I could feel what he was feeling. It lasted for a mere seconds, but in those few seconds, it felt like I knew what he was going through.
So, I have decided to give him space to process his feelings. He could reach out whenever he needs a friend, right now, I am letting him be.
I felt connected to another friend, thought she was distressed, texted her, and turns out, she indeed was stressed. She was the same friend who had abandoned me when I was sick, and my parents were sick. Somehow, my soul managed to connect with her too.
I have deleted social media for a while. It gave me anxiety. I am planning on leaving it in the long term. I had been off social media from 2020 to 2022. Those years went pretty good.
I keep my sisters photographs in my side drawer. Her childhood pictures. I love her, even though she gets annoying, but hey, I love her even when she is annoying.
When my mother was sick, she had had a banana and she had removed some parts of the banana that were rotten. I had told her I would just throw it in the garbage. Instead, I wrapped the rotten pieces of banana into a tissue paper, and store them in my drawer. I still have them. I also have the jasmine she had given me once, I keep it in my wallet. Right in the pocket I have kept a picture of baby me.
My grandfather visits me nearly every single day. He has been running a charity organization since the 80s. He has lost everyone he once knew as family, his parents, 5 out of a total of 7 siblings. A son, his wife of 50 years. I don't understand how someone could go through so much and still have hope in the world. To still have love for the universe. He is currently sponsoring a couple of children academically.
Ironically, this is the same gransfather who was once in debt, and people would bang his door all day asking for a return of their money. Years later, people knocked on his door again, this time, to ask him for charity. For food, for supplies, for ration, medicines. He had told me once, THE MORE I GIVE, THE MORE I GET FROM GOD. He said it was the rule of the universe. The more love you gave out into the world, the universe multiplied it and gave it back to you. So he never loses anything at all. It just gets multiplied and returned back to him as a gift. In another form. One that keeps him satisfied with how the universe works.
I have a long way to go to understand him.
For now, I am focused on listening to the little girl inside me.
Love and Light,
Sunshine

That was a beautiful post, Phoebes, thankyou.
:hug:

3rd December, 2024.

I am on the verge of a mental breakdown.
I walked away from a friendship, we had been friends for over 5 years. Her behaviour had hurt me on multiple occasions. It was finally time to let her go.
It hurts a lot. The throbbing pain in my head, the emptyness in my chest, the sinuses of my face, they all feel so heavy.
It would have been fine is she didn't love me back, I was dealing with that just fine, what didn't work for me was, she had never even realized how her actions or inactions were hurting me.
And I, I think, maybe, what if, what if she has her reasons. My mind is still making up excuses for her.
My heart is aching so bad, because it loves her so much.
I think, I should not let people hurt me just because I love them.
I could love them, I could still choose to walk away. Love, as it turns out, isn't enough of a reason to stay.
Respect and understanding are.

I hate that I still love her.
I love that I could never hate her at all.
I am sinking into this oblivion I don't think I would wake up from.

Bye.
S

If you're comfortable with it... :hug:

Regards,
Aphotic.

Chart, uhm. I didn't understand your reply. Could you please help me understand it better? I really admire your responses!
Atramentous! A big fat hug right back to you.

I've always been so fond of hugs that feel like the other person has embraced my entire being. It feels suffocating. But for those 1-2 seconds, it makes me feel loved too. Although with C-PTSD, I'm terrified of the idea of a bear hug, but I remember, one of my friends does bear hug me. I love that. I think it all comes down to who we feel comfortable with. I feel comfortable being myself on this forum. Thank you Atramentous, I needed that.


3rd December, 2024

I think I don't feel safe within my own body. I am scared all the time. And when I'm not faced with an immediate threat, I make up scenarios in my mind where I'd be prepared to defend myself if a disagreement might arise. A hypothetical scenario, which could become a reality given I acted out of character, if I talked back to my father.
My mother mentioned something about getting me married. I have been mortified by the idea. If need be, I'd have to say no to my parents.
Then, they'd cry. And emotionally manipulate me. But no, not this time, this time, I am standing up for myself.
I am so scared. If he threatens me, or does something even worse, I am so scared right now.
As long as he is convinced that I'd make him good money when I find a job, I could keep him from getting me forcibly married.

I just need to find a way to become financially independent. That will help me get away from it all.


Any suggestions would greatly help me.


S

4th December, 2024

Update:
My narcissistic father humiliated me in front of family. And he said, you are only helpful to people so that you could get something out of it. That hurt.
And he said a lot of other things along the lines of stupid and stuff that my mind can't recall now.
I think this is a protective mechanism, I forget what he said altogether.

But I am writing down a diary, and I'll notice the subtle changes in his behaviour. For Example, he humiliated me, this would usually be followed by him telling me he loves me or "allowing" me to have my monthly allowance that he has been holding back.
Nevertheless, I am looking out for his manipulative behaviour so that before I leave, I am a 100 percent sure, and when I walk away, I walk away for good. And that, he could no longer lure me in.

He said he knows everything I have ever done. And I think he might know about the forum. But there's no way he could find out. Right?

I have decided to emotionally distance myself, take a note of his behaviour and walk away when I have the ability to support myself.


I have hope.

S

A few hours later.
Update: He came into my room, when I had specifically told my brother to leave because I had an exam and I was studying, I couldn't say that to the father, and even if I did, he won't leave. So he comes, sits down next to me. Pretends to cry. Clenches his fists. And keeps staring at me. When I don't give him any attention. Leaves.

And also, he said my mother told him to lie to me about getting her tested because she was sick. He hadn't gotten her tested at all. He lied to me that he did take her to the hospital, and said my mum told him to lie.
My mum refuses these allegations.

Also, he has refused to support me any further.

Hey. I read a bit. Not all. I cannot concentrate much because of my own stress. But I read enough to know you are in a bad situation. And could use all the support you need.

I want to say you are seen. And heard. And worthy of love. All your dad tells you is a lie. Purge his lies from your mind. And know you are worthy. All your responses...whether stress or crying or the rest...are normal responses. You are normal and good enough person. In a bad situation. That is not your fault.

You ask for suggestions...three things that came to mind...

1. You need a decision. You wait for a sign that it is bad enough. In past and present abuse...I tend to wait...endlessly...until I am sure
  that it is abuse, it is bad enough, it isn't just me, it warrants leaving. Until I am mentally broken. And then some more.
  This too is normal. It is a trauma response. When I left my ex, in the years that followed...I started to see that it had been bad
  enough for a very long time. But being in it, made me blind to how bad it was. It became more clear with distance! Your dad is abusive. And it causes you to be on
  the verge of mental breakdown. You tried enough. You are free to make a decision to leave the situation
  that harms you. You need healing now. You are important. Good that you distanced. :hug: 

2. You need a plan. When in abuse, it is hard to see the exit. It is hard to think straight. I wish I had suggestions, but that is hard for
  another country. Maybe you wrote about it. But is there one trusted confident. Who you can sit down with. And make an exit plan? A
  practical plan: living, finances, social support, trauma therapy, etc? Maybe a social worker, a pastor (churches and maybe also other
  religions have diaconate = financial support), a school counsellor, a domestic violence organisation? I know options here, but not
  there...sorry. There are charities here...they match a person in need with a stable family...where they can live in. For a very small charge. Maybe there are charities like that where you
  are?   

3. Is there anything that gives you purpose? Maybe faith, maybe a concrete dream for your future, maybe a person that is special
  for you, maybe wanting to find back the real you underneath the trauma, maybe a job you'd love? Can you write your hopegiving goal in your plan? What you dream
  of for yourself? Not just "I want to get away from..." but also "I want to move towards...".

I am cheering for you to find the strength to stand up for yourself...and find the means to do that...  :cheer:  :cheer:  :cheer:

I am always a bit scared to say something wrong. I'm in such a stressful situation I cannot always say the right things...feel free to tell me if it is not helpful. Maybe I said things you already wrote. Then just take away: I'm sending you kindness and hugs.

Hey Mathilde,

You didn't say anything wrong, love. I feel so supported by your words and I feel so understood and seen.

1) I feel like it comes from cognitive dissonance, I detach and then he lures me in by telling me he loves me. And my FOO tells me that I am being negative and I should definitely give him another chance (this happens when he starts crying infront of everyone). Or if I say no to anything, he either: guilttrips me, or threatens me.
2) The thing is, he would definitely kill me if he found me after I have left. That is one thing I know truly. He would kill me, if I am not dead by the time I leave. He is capable of that. He has made such threats before and I am scared what if he is reading over my shoulder?
3) What gives me purpose is, maybe, I could in the long run, make a difference for people living in the same situation. I don't know how I am going to do it, but I have hope I'll figure out along the way.

I don't want to die.
Also, he is pretty manipulative and knows alot of people. It won't be long before he finds me if I attempt to leave right now.


Why is he doing this to me?
I am so scared, I have done absolutely nothing to him and he hates me so much. I have been hating myself all my life because of him. I want to stop hating myself now.

I'm sorry if this post is too long.

S

I am sorry. I wish I could do something. I can just send you all my supportive wishes. :hug:

1. I know. I did and do the same. Cognitive dissonance is tough. It is hard to break through, when there is still contact. You are
   not negative. You are truthful. The abuse you describe is really bad. He has a major problem. And you are not at fault. Tell
   yourself. Over and over: I am worth more than this.

   I wasted years trying to convince them. Being lured back in. Being upset about smaller bullying. And reactive to every little
   pinch and prod. When I should have focused on the core thing: how to keep my own mind sane, and keep myself and my child safe,
   and get us out.

   I tell you...because I think this is important for you as well. I was so upset, every time dad lied, or called me fat, or
   gossipped with family. I argued with them. In circles, because they blocked every true talk. And all I should have done, was kept
   myself sane and got out with my kid.

   Decide what are the core things for you. Maybe to be physically safe, to stay sane, remember he is an abuser, to not get into a
   marriage you do not want (i think that was a topic?), to make an exit plan. It sounds hard, but I mean well. All the littler
   bullying...with weight, with calling you weak for crying, saying you negative, etc etc is meant to distract you. And keep you in
   control. When you keep someone dizzy by turning and twisting them...they won't be stable enough to run. Decide which things
   really matter to you. And go for that. Let all the smaller things slide. The compliments and the putdowns. That's his problem. I
   know it is real hard when you are in the midst of it. But I hope it works for you.

2. I am quite startled that he threatened to kill you. That is huge. I am so sorry. No wonder you are stressed. Dear sunshine...I
   believe there is a safe and loving place for you. Somewhere. But it is not in his house. 

   There are two kinds of abusers. Some really kill. Some play mind games. They span a net of fear over you. Making you believe they
   will kill you as you leave. To frighten you so, that you do not leave. But they do not kill. Because that would hurt themselves
   too: they'd be stuck with the consequences, like jail.

   I do not know which of the two he is. But I take you seriously. Be very careful.

   My ex threatened femicide and kidnapping our son and tracking me down everywhere. I was terrified. Because I knew he could do it.
   I saw it in him. But I risked it. And left. With my kid. He did not kill me. He tried to get my kid through the courts. I won. I
   was terrified of him revenging. But it was silent. He took his loss. And left abroad. And we were free of him. All that time he
   played mind games with me. Like our own little family cult. Some abusers do this...it is a game. 

   It is also possible there is a real threat. I do not know your dad. Take very good safety measures. Please keep yourself safe. At
   that time, I checked, and there are domestic violence shelters with high safety profile. They do a lot to keep their clients
   safe. Exactly in these type situations. They also have other measures, like alarm systems, where you wear a button to call the
   police and they come right away. Not sure what options you have there.

   Could you make an anonymous call...maybe with another telephone...to the police or a domestic violence shelter? To see what they
   can do in such situations? They have dealth with this type pepetrators before. If there is a threat of murder...you need
   organisations like these...not a random pastor or social worker sitting with you. Or a girl writing well-intended messages on the
   internet.

   I wish I could help.

   I wondered. Do you have family abroad or in a faraway city? That he would allow you to visit? So you could leave from there? And
   be further away from him? Or someone further away you could runaway to?

   Also, is there a way to use safer internet? And shield your writings? Also be careful with diaries. My mum stole mine "to help".   

3. I heard you say you have hope. That is good. I am sure you can escape this. Strengthen your mind. And be a help to others. Hang
   on to that.

I find it a bit hard to help. I am afraid of saying something wrong. That gets you hurt. I hope others will comment if I give bad advice. I am not a social worker or police officer.

Lots and lots and lots of strength. There is hope. You can find a better place than this. And get stronger.

Dear Mathilde.
I am incredibly grateful for your post, it has helped me alot. Thank you so much, love.
Responding to Dear Mathilde, Journal Entry for December 7th, 2024.
I feel like I have become numb, I don't care what he does or says anymore. It used to hurt, back when I was still coming to terms with how could someone I loved all my life, my best friend, could hate me so much. But he has hated me, to the point that I had started hating myself, I wanted to end my life when that happened. And, none of that mattered to him. He told me, he didn't care. He never did, his actions proved his words. I loved him, and he made me hate myself, and I don't know if I ever want to be in love with anyone ever again. I don't know if I'll ever allow anyone in my life. Love, maybe, is not for me, maybe not right now.
I'll tell you why, because my best friend is in love with me. And instead of being happy about it, or all those butterfly feelings, I am wondering why would he love someone like me?
He deserves better. This is me seeing myself from my father's eyes.
Deep down, I know, I am love itself. I don't even need to look for it, its all inside me. Just trapped, waiting to come out in gushes, to flow. To flow for an eternity. It just needs to come out first.
2. He didn't threaten to kill me outright. He didn't take me to the ER, when I couldn't breathe. And he, threatened to break open my jaw, and beat me up if I self-harmed again. And also, he went on a holiday with his friends, when I had told him I was having suicidal tendencies.
Also, he stares at my chest and crotch. And used to slap my butt all the time and make comments about it. He stiff sniffs me from time to time and rubs his hands on my back to feel the straps of my bra. Sometimes, he offers to sleep next to me, this happened when him and I were alone at home. Tell me something please, I have seen this behaviour all my life, for people with healthy relationship dynamics, is this a normal thing? What does a normal family feel like? What is different?
He says all the time, you should see how people live on the streets, with nothing to eat, you're so much better than that. Because you have me as your father.
As long as I don't talk back to him or disagree with him and obey him, he won't harm me physically. So I am trying to physically protect myself right now.
He has a strong network, and the police and shelter homes in my country are next to none. The police won't even pick up if I called them. But he, for sure, would find me in a few hours, and that would be the end. So I need to have a fool proof plan.
Also, he has refused to allow me to visit my uncle abroad. Since the said uncle doesn't have a family and he doesn't trust men. He won't even let me go the gym when there are men there (in our country there are allocated times for women, and other times, both men and women can work out together). He said all men are predatory.
I have blocked all my family members on social media. I don't even have a real social media, it is under a different name. I am so terrified of him ever finding that out.
Yes thank you for reminding me, I need to hide my diary.

You have helped me alot. Your words, they have encouraged me. I feel like I am not alone. I feel like there is someone out there, who does really care about me. Thank you for that.

Also, my sister said I tell her negative things about dad, so I could get in his good books and she is isolated and distant from him. She thinks, I am being nice to him because of selfish reasons, she isn't aware if I ever disagree with him, he would do God-knows-what to me. But her words did hurt. My mother said the same.
Those words hurt.

Also, as I am writing this, I am terrified of the idea, but, if, he were to ever come across this, he would kill me for sure. Or physically incapacitate me, or I don't know what. I don't even want to know. I am so scared.

Please I want to be okay, God. Please.


S

1. Being rejected by a father cuts through your heart. Tell yourself daily that you are good enough. Your friend knows you well and loves you. What does he like about you? Can you write it down? I made a page for myself with kind words I received from others once: you are an empathic person, you are honest, etc. Can you ask friends what they like about you?

Being stressed and being in love is a difficult combination. What is your friend like? How do you think about him?

2. All the things you describe cross sexual, physical and emotional boundaries. All. Nothing you mention is normal. Trust yourself. You know. 

I had an unsafe FOO. An unsafe ex. And then a safe ex. A widower with a teen daughter. Tell me: do you want me to describe in more detail how the safe family deals with the things you mention? You can absolutely say no, maybe it is too painful. But maybe it will help you see what a good boyfriend or father would do. And what is unacceptable. To know your boundaries. The main thing is I feel relaxed with him. I do not need to hide my feelings or likes or needs. He is consistently safe. Also if I disagree.  He is honest. Zero games. I have not once been afraid of him. In eleven years. (OK that is a lie...I have been afraid...but that was me...my attachment trauma, in the beginning...not him).

Also, you mention God. I absolutely do not wish to evangelise. But if you believe in a God, there is a song that got me through superhard times like these. It is also more generally comforting, I don't think the word God is even in it. Do you want it? Or rather not?

12th December, 2024

I am at the edge of an emotional breakdown. My mind is collapsing, I have an exam, I have not taken a bath in a week or so, or brushed my hair or my teeth. I don't know how long it has been since I washed my face.
My friends checked up on me. I have realized, maybe I am too available, which is why, people take me for granted.
There was this guy that I had been crushing hard on for nearly 2 years or so.
He said I am incredibly triggering and annoying. And I am confusing and there is no point in him talking to me.
He knew about the sexual abuse feom my father.
All he said was, stop messaging me, I keep my messes to myself. I hope you get the reassurance you need. Have a good life.

I was shocked. I still am shocked. Am I too much, and confusing and triggering? He said there is no point in talking to me. Is that true?

This is an incredibly difficult time for me, my live language is physical touch, I desperately need someone to talk to, I need to fall apart in someone's arms right now. I want to hide my face in their chest and sob for a really long time. All I need is that, right now. The reassurance that when I am falling apart, they would hold me. I could cry for as long as I wanted to, and they would never leave.
I need a shoulder to cry on, and a chest that makes me feel like home. I want a home. I really do want to be at home.
It feels like I am dying, slowly. Or maybe I am already dead, I just don't know if I have passed through the denial of being dead or not.

PapaCoCo, Chart, Kizzie, Mathilde, Armee, Atramentous, Kia1212. Desert Flower.
Thank you for being my friends. I love you guys so much. I really do. Wish you all were here, we could have huddled together in a hug. I am crying, I am sorry. I love you all so much.

I have nothing to say anymore.

Love is signing off,
S

Dearest Sunshine,

Stay around a bit longer. We do not want to lose you. We - I take the freedom to speak for the rest too - see your struggles. We are only human. But we send you pieces of hope and kindness as good as we can. If we were there, we would give you a big hug. And make a shield between you and the people hurting you.

Sometimes, when we are abused. We run after people who are bad for us. Like your father or your crush. And we shy away from people who care. You have friends who check on you. You have a friend who loves you. You have people here who care. Let go of the hurters. Seek out the helpers. Not everyone can cope with a person in pain...for all sorts of reasons...and it is better to focus on those who are willing to be there for you. And take you as your are. Then grow a stronger self inside you. And you will be able to have better friendships. With give and receive. This is possible.

My colleague came from such an abusive family, that as a little girl, she slept in the woods. And only went back in the winter. Alone in the woods was better than her home. They nearly broke her. She thought there was no exit. She wanted to die. But when she was a young adult, she left, and found a loving husband with parents who took her in as a daughter. A stronger self. A job she was good at. She is happy and strong now. She took a job caring for abused children! You can do this too.

Would you be willing to take a challenge? I have three little assignments for this week. That I would love for you to do. Would you want that?

1.   I would love if you promised us here, that you do not harm yourself this week. You would help us greatly with that. Would you?
2.   I would love if you call a domestic violence hotline. If that is safe in your situation, I don't know if your family checks the phone. Tell the DV line your situation. And ask them for practical advice. There is an exit. But you need to find and open that door. Your family won't. They are stuck. They will not change. I am sorry. You see the problem. You can change. Ask the hotline for advice. Just one call. Go search for the exit door. 
3.   You want touch. I understand. It is my language too, and I miss it. But someone here wrote they gave themselves the kindness, their mother could not give. Can you find a way to be kind to yourself? One that suits you? And do it every evening? Maybe a hot shower with a nice smelling shower gel. Maybe touching your cheek gently as a mother would. Maybe using nice body oil after shower. Maybe spending time to brush your hair. Spend a quarter each evening being kind to you? 

Feel free to refuse. You are the boss of your life. Dearest Sunshine. It is not yet time to give up. You are young. And there are routes to a better life. Use your imagination...visualise it...every time your dad scolds you....picture us there...standing between you and him as a shield...and hugging you after for comfort.

 :hug:

Hey Maria,

Thank you. I feel like you have a very big capacity to understand my pain. It takes a massive heart to listen and empathize. I am learning to try and be that too.

As for the little girl who grew up to work with abused children, I kinda have the same life plans too. I am just scared to not live up to it. The "what ifs" come in the way. I know I can do it. I just think my caretakers would be horrified that I came from the same place as them and didn't turn out the way they did. I am just scared of not protecting another child from something I wished I had been protected from.

I am doing better after your message in the past few days. I need to cry, and I could imagine you all huddled here, and I could cry. But I don't know. I would really love if someone physical were here — someone I could relax my body in, lose all tension, and lean on, and they would let me.

But I really love that you suggested the big hug. It gives me tingles in my body. Like I get giggly, like a child when their parent adores them and tells them they love them.

I am scared to admit that I have never been loved. Haha. But I would want to be someone who doesn't make other people feel like that — unloved. So, I am working on that.

I will try to be kinder to myself. I have an exam on Tuesday. I am working on that. Hopefully, I will find kinder ways in my approach to that. Can't say I am not scared, but a friend said being scared and doing it anyway is courageous. I am working on being courageous. It will take time, but let's hope. I am hopeful.

As for the domestic violence helpline, I can't do that. I really can't do that. It would be extremely unsafe for me and my mother. I need to find a way out by myself for both her and me.

Her... God, I wish she had someone to protect her all her life. I wish I was her mother, and I wish I was that little girl's mother who I was.
I think I am becoming one.

As for one kind thing today, I won't be doing anything that gives me anxiety today — just for one day as a start. People give me anxiety. So, I'd spend time with myself and my books. I'd feel sensations in my body, and I won't suppress them. I will let them be fully felt so they can eventually go. Painful, but breakdown is the breakthrough, right?

I am looking forward to more of your responses. I loved your response. It gave me hope. It gave me something to look forward to, and it made me think maybe the world is not so bad after all.

Also, how do I support my friend who is distressed but won't open up about it? I know because I know him, but he is not very expressive and downplays everything. I respect his boundaries and I told him exactly that. So, I said to him, "It is your choice, but because of what I feel, I would drop you a Bible quote every night for a couple of days." That would be a reminder that God is here (he reads the Bible and loves God so much). Is that enough? Is doing that enough to show that I care for him? Because I do.

At the same time, I give so much, people might get suffocated and tell me to get a life. Haha. What do I do?

Give him space, right? Just the quotes. And listen if he opens up, right? But don't push, right? Would that be okay to support him?

Also, how much is too much?

Love and Light,
Sunshine

P.S. Hope67  :hug:
Chart, love, how have you been doing?

With Love,
Sunshine on a Rainy Day.

Hi Sunshine,
I only read your last post, I have to pace myself.
I'm really sorry you're struggling so much.
You really are a loveble person, very much so. We all need love. That's actually what I learned can heal trauma: love, not logic. So I'm sending you love, even if it is not physically. You are not alone.
What I've also learned is there are ways to calm our nervous system down, even when you are alone. Especially when you are alone, I would almost say. That is through my breathing excercises (I do box breathing, very simple, very effective). And just knowing we can calm down, makes me a little calmer already sometimes.
I think what you are doing for your friend is very good and enough. Just a little act of kindness can make a world of difference.
I hope you can find some peace. Big hugs  :bighug: I hope you can feel it.

Dear Sunny, I do not have much time and room in my mind now. But I wanted to answer you and my eye fell on this quote. As you do with your friend - great idea, and enough - here is a bible quote for you.

"So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the LORD your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you."

Sunshineandwarmth, Just a thought... You can journal on the Forum in a private section. This section is not open on the web and is only accessible to Forum members. If you want to feel more safe on the Forum you can ask Kizzie for a private journal here:
https://www.cptsd.org/forum/index.php?topic=15417.msg134195#msg134195

Please continue your plan to make yourself safe. This is the most important thing.

Sending love and support, Chart
 :hug:

Dear Chart.

Thank you so much for telling me that. I have reached out and requested to be a part of the private group.

Your suggestion is so helpful.
It will definitely help me feel safer and protected.

Love and Light,
Sunshine