Topics

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind.  Learning about CPTSD.  Learning about dissociative disorders.  Working through therapy and trying to become self aware.  It's gradual and difficult.

Had an experience with my therapist where she guided me through a body check, remembered feelings of physical abuse.  Broke down crying for the first time in years.  Been crying off and on for a week.  Wrote a letter to my father, my last letter to him.  Feel like I've knocked down a wall but there are many more inside.

Learning about how I've compartmentalized my feelings and thoughts and memories.  Questioning dissociative disorders - are they real or are they a product of therapy?  Trying to understand because everything I'm learning about dissociative identity disorder / dissociative disorder not otherwise specified feels like it applies to me.  Fighting waves of different feelings and experiences that take over me.  Trying to reconcile blank spots.  Trying to reconstruct my thoughts and feelings, memories.  Trying to push through and be productive at work so I have my basic needs met (food, clothing, shelter, etc.) while I work on mending my heart.

Memories are a lot more real when you feel them in your body.  I seem to have adapted to being able to talk about my memories as though they didn't happen to me, but meditating on my body and checking in with it brings a whole new layer to this.  I've been in denial for a long time.  I'm scared but determined.  Angry but resigned.  Focused and intent on moving forward.  At least right this second.

Starting a thread for me to try and get in touch with my feelings, as I go through therapy and integrate my experiences.  I just had a really intense therapy session and it unlocked memories for me, memories of a painful time but somehow the act of remembering made me feel alive, and that made me happy, in spite of the pain.  Happiness isn't something I feel often.  I plan to periodically post letters to this thread to vent and to help me allow myself to feel differently about my trauma.  I feel like if I can do this, then I am sincerely making an effort to help myself.  And if I help myself, then I can sincerely make an effort to help other people, which is something I want to be able to do.

This will contain harsh language, details of emotional flashbacks, details of physical, emotional, sexual abuse, and various other triggers - I'm not going to censor myself as I try to work through my defenses.  Please accept my apology if any of this triggers any negative feelings - I hope to give you ample warning so you can choose to look elsewhere if you need to.



Dad,

I still feel the heat and the welts on my legs from where you beat me that day.  You always told me if I cry you will hit me again, so I learned not to cry.  I can feel the pain in my back from your leather belt, the skin gives off heat and my stomach is hurting.  I can still feel the crooked bump in my septum where you broke my nose, and I didn't cry.  I didn't run and I didn't fight back because you terrified me.  I think you were terrified too, but it just made you swing harder.

I remember every time you hit me, every time you made me stand there while you brainwashed me for hours.  I remember every time you accused me of lying, told me I wasn't abused, you weren't abusive, every time you created an impossible situation for me and trapped me so you could have an excuse to take your anger out on me.  I will never be daddy's little girl again.

I remember crying as I watched you punch my brother in the throat and throw him through the wall, and I remember you yelling as you made us put up new sheetrock and repair the drywall you destroyed with your rage.  I remember countless other acts of violence.  I remember how mad you would get at my brother because he had a speech impediment and a nervous tic, and he couldn't sit still when he was afraid or anxious and you viewed that as defiance.  I'll never forget the spark of anger in his eyes when he got old enough to stand up for himself and the way that set you off.  You were so scary to me then.

Through you I learned the meaning of helplessness, hopelessness.  I was a prisoner in my own home, and I was isolated and alone.  I remember sleep deprivation, being held at gunpoint, threatened for existing.  I learned that you had been abused and I wept for you.  I couldn't reconcile what was happening to me and my brother, and I couldn't believe my own father didn't love me, so I fell apart.  My mind fell apart.  I learned how to make you happy and focused on that, and when I fell short and noticed your disappointment, I punished myself so you wouldn't have to.  I think you may have softened then, but I couldn't tell for sure.  I tried desperately to be good enough for you.

You taught me how men should act, you gave me my initial impression of where men and women fit on the hierarchy of life.  You taught me to please and made me feel worthless.  I guess I have you to thank for all the times I got * when I didn't want it, when I couldn't handle it.  I've forgotten more than I remember, at least until recently.

But now I am learning.  I am realizing that I froze up when I should have fought back or run away.  And I'm remembering how it felt to be that scared little girl, alone in my own private *.  And as I remember, I'm taking control.  I'm changing the narrative.  I get to choose how I respond to these feelings, these flashbacks.  And while I can understand and empathize with your pain intellectually, I can never forgive you and will never love you again.  I am learning to love again, and you don't deserve an ounce of it.  I no longer need your conditional acceptance, your pretense, your approval.  I am letting go of you for good.

I am not a liar, I do not exaggerate or gossip.  I was not a bad kid and I never deserved your abuse.  I would have loved you with my whole heart if you would have let me.  Daddies are supposed to love their daughters, protect them, not strip them naked of their sense of self-worth and safety.

For as long as I live, you will be dead to me.  I am learning to cry again and to embrace all the parts of me that went into hiding when you hurt me.  I am on my way to being whole again, and I'm doing it without you.

Hi, I just learned about c-ptsd and learned it applies to me.  My therapist (just started therapy recently, first time I'm giving it a chance) mentioned that and dissociative disorder not otherwise specified as possible labels.  I don't like the way labels make me feel, but thinking about and making myself aware of what the tools are for dealing with the symptoms described by these labels is helping, I guess.

I feel really detached, I wonder what's real and what's not real.  My brain feels so foggy and even though I know what I need to do at work to be productive and successful, I can't focus on work right now.  I haven't been able to for a few weeks.  I keep flashing back, keep feeling feelings I haven't felt in many years.

I tried to go to therapy years ago, described my life story and where I had made it by then, and at the end of the session the therapist said, "Well, you're surprisingly well adjusted."  And for a while that seemed true - I've been told by some others I'm the quintessential survivor.  Adaptable.  Strong, and can overcome anything.  But I don't feel so well adjusted anymore.

I honestly feel scared, untrusting, anxious all the time.  Lost.  Completely and utterly lost.  I don't know why I come to work except to hold on to a sense of familiarity.  But nothing seems familiar right now.

I've been told that there's something called an inner critic and I need to just "shut that fucker up," (not my therapist's advice, mind you), but I can't really hear any other voices right now.  I just feel insecure, like I'm failing, and like the only thing that makes me worthy of anything and gives me any value is my work, and I'm failing at that if I'm not concentrating.  Ergo I'm worthless.

And it feels like a fault of will, like I should be stronger, should be smarter, should try harder.  But on one hand I feel as though I'm trying my best, and on the other I don't know how to measure, how to know whether I'm on the right path or simply mistaking activity for progress.

And somehow, this isn't the conversation I end up having with my therapist - I somehow end up filtering these thoughts and giving the sense that I have more of a solid understanding of how broken this line of thinking is than I do.  So why can't I just shut everything up and act accordingly?  Why can't I just snap out of it again and act rationally?  I just feel like crying, but I don't feel like I have anywhere or anyway to do that right now.

I feel like I'm burdening the world somehow.  I don't like this feeling very much, and I'm sure it's not true.  People offer me support and praise, but I resent myself for wanting that or needing that in the first place.  And I second guess everyone's motives and I don't trust anyone.  I don't know how to take a step back, reset expectations, and move past this spot.