Topics

Haven't been here in a while. My marriage just imploded last week and we are now in the process of separating. We had an argument the other day. I got triggered and my rage just got out of control. I wrote this at 3am as I couldn't sleep and was so upset about what had happened.

I'M SORRY

Tonight I realized so many things.
My pain was excruciating. And yeah, i'm talking about my pain again,
Because it was the most agonizing thing
I had felt in a very long time.
Not because of the hurt you caused me,
But because for the first time,
I realized how much pain I've caused you.
Tonight,
As the anger and the words left my mouth and hit the air...
I wanted to take them back...
As I looked at our son on the couch
Knowing I had totally disregarded his presence
Before yelling words
I knew I would instantly regret...
When you took him and went upstairs...
There it was. So heavy on you as you walked away...
I could see it so clearly
As if you were carrying a mountain.
I've promised myself so many times
I would NEVER do this to anyone,
And yet, here it is.
I am so incredibly sorry...
I cannot express to you the shame, guilt and pain I feel
For hurting you so deeply...
This rage inside of me is one of my darkest demons
That I fight
Every. Single. Day.
When things get dark and cold, and I feel unsafe...
It comes out to play.
I watch it take over me, and I momentarily loose control...
Until yet again,
These words I will regret hit the air.
I am not proud of this, I carry so much shame inside of me.
I hate it, it makes me hate myself.
No... I am angry
At you Mom... you did this to me.
It is not who I am inside, my true self.
I want to scream it so loud.
It is just yet another
Parasite I still need to shed.
And I will. Oh I will.
I love you.
I'm sorry.

In the process of opening my diary last week for the first time in over 15 years, I found this little thing I wrote. I was 27 at the time, single mom, had moved back into my parents - those who had abused me - basement. I was in a really strange place both in my head, and heart, and life. Anyway, here it is.


The Dancing Scotch Tape

I woke up this morning to the sun shining on my face. My mom and Liam are gone. She had made an appointment to have his hair cut. She takes great joy in doing these little things with him. I could hear John Coltrane blasting. My dad being an ex jazzman and having that passion for music - I guess I get from him - takes every opportunity handed to him to go back down memory lane the minute my mom steps out of the house.
I'm lying in bed. It's warm under my comforter but I can feel the spring morning chill on the tip of my nose. I love that feeling. I finally crawl out of bed, my hair is at war, and my clothes... well... let's not go there. I start walking up the stairs and realize I can't see a damn thing in front of me. Glasses would help. I take a leap down the stairs, grab my glasses on my night stand, and head upstairs to the kitchen. The blinds on the patio door are closed. God knows why, seeing as the sun is shining out. What is it with growing old that makes you less tolerant of things like a sunny day? I don't get it.
My dad is sitting there reading Paris Match. I had gotten him a subscription for his birthday last year. It's going to run out come August, I think I'll renew it. I can see his head slowly bopping to the sound of the saxophone. As I stand there making my coffee and staring blankly at those blinds, slowly emerging, I can see the shadow of a strand of scotch tape flying in the wind. It's tied to our AC unit which my mom takes great care in wrapping up every fall before winter hits. The tape looks like it's dancing. Dancing to John Coltrane's saxophone. I smile. I put my toast in the toaster and grab the jar of Nutella. It's a sweet morning. Nutella fits the bill today. But my eyes are still focused on that strand of scotch tape. Soon enough, everything around me disappears and all that is left is the tape and the sound of John Coltrane's sax. It's dancing in the sun, it's happy. I start to laugh hysterically. I'm brought back to reality when my dad turns around and says "What's so funny?". I blush.
"Dad, that piece of tape seems to really like John Coltrane."
"Huh?", he says.
"Nevermind", I answer.
My dad stares at me for a moment, with that confused look on his face which I've seen so many times before.
They don't get it.
It doesn't matter. I do.
And I'm smiling.

Hi I'm new to this board. I signed up earlier this week. I'm also new to C-PTSD as I heard the term for the first time only a few weeks ago, and started reading about it only a couple weeks ago. And now, I feel like everything that has been wrong in my life is starting to make sense.

[SIDENOTE: This post is reaaallly long, so I want to say one thing here, rather than the end: for those of you reading, thank you. Thank you for simply taking the time to read this. It means the world. You know this is true, because you know what it feels to have others validate you. So thank you again.]

A lot of you are using terminology that I'm still not all that familiar with. I'm still learning the lingo. I just learned that nasty ***** that sits on my shoulder is called my inner-critic. Heh, there's even a word for her, look at that. Anyway, the past few weeks have been overwhelming to say the least but here I am. I'm also a bit of a cynic and humour is an outlet for me, i'm not trying to be a jackass  (and I'm apologizing for who I am, which Is what i've done my whole life).

I don't even know where to start but after reading a couple stories on here, I decided to write mine as I've always needed to, just never had anyone to listen.

I was born in 1975. Both my parents came from abuse. We were lower middle class, my parents were first generation immigrants. I don't remember much of my childhood. I have huge memory gaps. I know that there were very happy times. On the outside. My dad's family was abroad so we grew up surrounded exclusively by my mother's side of the family, which was large and very tight nit, and we were at the centre of it. Weekends were spent at our house where everyone would congregate, uncles, aunts, and cousins running around. We took family road trips down to Florida every summer as a couple of my mom's siblings had moved down there with their husbands and kids. On paper, everything was beautiful.

I was a creative. From a very young age, I had a talent for music and drawing. I was also very intelligent, always an A-student in school. Around the age of 9 or 10 is when I started to revert inwards. I started spending more time alone, in my room, in my own universe. Art became an outlet. Again, I don't remember much, my memory of my childhood is really fragmented. But I do remember the feeling. That the only time I was at peace, and felt safe, was when I was alone, and in my own little bubble. So that started taking a bigger place in my life. It became my haven. It is also what started driving the over-achiever in me.

I also felt different. I started depersonalizing at a really young age. I didn't understand what was happening to me so I never told anyone about it. It was one of my first little dark secrets. I also felt that our family was different. Being out in the world and constantly feeling like I had to 'pretend' or hide. Something wasn't right. Just this feeling of uneasiness.

My mom always made sure that we stood out of the crowd - but not in the good way. That we felt excluded. I was that kid that was not aloud to go on school trips. I was the kid who wouldn't get the basketball team jersey because my mom refused to be bullied into buying it. Yet I was on the team, and everyone else was wearing it. Stuff like that. I was always 'that kid'. She constantly created situations for us that were humiliating, and made us feel like outcasts.

At home, she was tyrant. She brutally abused us. Me, my sister, and my dad. Verbally, and emotionally. There was no love in my house. There was no affection in my house. No hugs, No compassion, no empathy. Nothing. It was all aggression, yelling, insults, threats, bullying, fear, anger, and a hole lot of sadness. I think the first time I said "I love you" to anyone (or had it said to me), I was 17. I think the fist time my mom told me she loved me I was 21 (barf.. .no seriously, I ran to the washroom and puked from the intensity).

My mom would say things to us like "I'd be okay if you died", "I wish I never had you", and the list goes on. And this was a daily basis. She was also very controlling, and micro managed every single move anyone made in the house. Everything. From what we ate, to how long we spent in the shower. She was like a drill sargent.

She would ignore our birthdays. I mean nothing, no present, no party, no cake. Like we didn't exist. Who the f*** does that to their kids??? I have 2 boys. How in G-d's name do you not celebrate your kids birthdays???

We would come home from school, and my mom would have randomly put the house up for sale. For no reason. We'd ask what was going on, and she would say "Your dad and I are splitting up, and you guys are going into foster care tomorrow. I'm calling child protective services in the morning." This would happen on a monthly basis for years about the time when we were teenagers.

And the list goes on...

As for my dad, we watched her humiliate him, insult him, treat him like garbage. Over the course of 30 years, she destroyed his soul. By the time she was done with him, there really wasn't much left there. As a kid and teenager, I almost felt like he was the 3rd child as he was also a victim. But at the same time, the voice inside me hated him for being such a p***y and not standing up for my sister and I and not defending us. I could count the times in my life when my dad actually spoke up on our behalf.

As we got older and my sister and I became teenagers, things escalated. Our entire life was a crisis, fight or flight mode had become my normal by then. I was also depersonalizing on a daily basis by then.  But when things escalated even further - what can I call the level above crisis - hyper-crisis? She went as far as holding us hostage once. It lasted 2 days I think. We didn't go to school. She stood in front of the door with a knife threatening to kill herself, my dad or us if we didn't do as she said.

She stabbed and killed our pet turtle in front of us once (she waved the knife around - with the turtle on it - for a good hour).

She humiliated us. She stripped us of our self-esteem.

I'm leaving so much stuff out, I don't know what to include and what to leave out, there's so much to tell... but I'm trying to truncate this as best as can and piece all these things together.

My sister and I were very different. My sister, as a teenager, was the outgoing, pretty girl, life of the party, tons of friend. And the rebel. By the time she hit 16ish, she was pretty messed up and extremely rebellious. She had an eating disorder, that my mom chose to ignore, or occasionally point out and throw at her face as if she had caused it. My sister and my mom were both extremely incendiary in their anger, so the huge explosions ending up with someone calling the cops started to happen. It was craziness. Every. Single. Day. For years.

I, on the other hand, was more quiet, shy, reserved. While my sister was screaming and slamming doors, I was coming home with "Mom, I got 95% on my Math test". I was greeted by "Oh yeah? You could've gotten 100, why didn't you get 100?" (On the flip side, my sister would be rewarded when she got 75%, but persecuted by my mom for the way she looked. She was fat, she was ugly, she was this, she was that).

As a result of all this, my rebellion was inside. I escaped, in my head, in my art, in my daydreaming. I built up strength inside by becoming very self-aware at a really young age. My way of rebelling was to become as independent as I possibly could so I could just go. I wanted to run away. I wanted to leave. And that feeling of 'leaving' wasn't not something I necessarily associated to moving out. 'Leaving' for me, even though I couldn't quite explain it, meant, "Just survive for now, hold on as long as you can, until you're strong enough to stand on your own" (which I did repeatedly throughout my life).

At 17, I met my ex-husband, T. He was my first 'real' boyfriend. That relationship quickly became my escape. When I was with him, or his family, I felt at peace. I wasn't in fight or flight mode. It was a loving environment. I thought that was the answer. This would 'fix' me. Fast forward a few years of doing the boyfriend thing while my life at home is an active war zone.

During this time, My cousin D, who I was raised with like he was my brother - my mom's sister had 2 boys, single mom, they were with us 24/7 - shot himself in the head, a year after being diagnosed with Schizophrenia. I was with him when he died.

[A few months after that, something else happened to me which I'll come back to later. I'm trying to compartmentalize things in my head so that this makes sense for your readers, lol]

At 21, I told my parents I wanted to move in with T. Because I knew my mom would fly off the handle, because there was simply no other possible alternative reaction - I had packed a bag knowing how things would go down. She did indeed fly off the handle, and I took my bag and left that night and never looked back. I didn't speak to her for over 2 years.

For a bit, I thought I was okay. I was starting to lead a 'normal' life. Live with the boyfriend, get a decent job, go to University. That's what grown ups do, right? Yet, I was ridden with anxiety. I was one of those people that is really high strung and can't sit still for a minute. I was not fun to be around, I had trouble regulating my emotions and anger. I also started having health issues and no doctor could tell me what was wrong with me (chronic pain which I now know was the beginning of Fibromyalgia).

During that time, my boyfriend started drinking heavily (both his parents were alcoholics), and soon after, I discovered he had an addiction to cocaine. I helped him get clean over the course of a few months.

We got married and had my son L. After my son was born, I suffered from severe postpartum depression, which sent me into a tail spin. When L was about 6 months, I had some sort of massive breakdown followed by a few months of a very dark severe depression.

During that time, I was alone. I had no support system, and my husband pretty much abandoned me. I was home taking care of an infant, and I was so messed up. I remember waking up in the morning, taking care if L, changing him, feeding him, etc.  and then sitting at my kitchen table for hours and blacking out. I would function just enough to make sure my son's needs were taken care of, but other than that, I felt dead inside. I would black out for hours at a time.

I started isolating myself. I stopped taking phone calls, avoiding everyone in my life. One day, my best friend broke the window in my front door to get into my house because she was so concerned about me.

I remember one day covering all the mirrors in my house (I'm Jewish - in our faith, when you loose a loved one and are mourning, you cover mirrors up as a show of humility). My husband came home that day and saw the mirrors covered, he said with a grin on his face "Who the f*** died?" and i answered "I did".

I remember one of my scariest days. I was sitting on my bed with the phone in front of me as I was seriously thinking of calling 911. I just couldn't take anymore. And at that moment, I dissociated in a way that had never happened to me before. It was like a sci-fi movie, I felt like I went flying up to my bedroom ceiling and I could see myself sitting there on the bed with the phone. It scared the sh*t out of me.

I stayed at rock bottom for a bit. And then one day, I said 'enough!'. To keep it short, I started reading, I starting taking care of myself. I had also gotten my first Mac computer a during that time and had discovered Graphic Design. I threw myself into that. I also discovered the internet and chat rooms, and got seriously addicted to that world for a while which lead to some other very self-destructive behaviour. I'll come back to that.

I worked on myself over the course of a few months, I broke up with my husband, and started my journey to healing as a single mother. By then, I was 26.

I got better. A LOT better. I was in shape, I felt good, my self-esteem was peaking. I was doing well in my job, I was going through the motions of my divorce (there was drama there too but nothing I need to get into). We shared custody of my son L, and on the weeks I didn't have him with me, I started dating actively. I was the most outgoing and self-confident I had ever been in my life. My social life exploded, I was partying and having a blast. I also threw myself into learning everything I can about Graphic Design and slowly taking small gigs as a freelancer on the side.

As my dating experiences crashed and burned, I started becoming more aware of my complete lack of relationship skills. A lot of pain built up inside as a result - another thing I sucked at, another failure for me. But on all other levels, I was good. I started planning on starting my own Freelancing business.

I met a lot of guys. A LOT of guys. (I feel I need to include this for the simple reason that this is the absolute first time that I am actually being honest with myself, and I must be transparent). I was very promiscuous. Knowing men were attracted to me fed my self-esteem. At that time, as toxic as it may sound, that is what I needed. I've also been blessed with the libido of a 21 year old boy, bless my genetics or whatever that is. I was so desperate for love and validation. I also had not really had a normal adolescence and felt I had some catching up to do in terms of fun. So I went wild. The excitement was very addictive, and I won't lie, I had a blast and I've got great stories to tell girlfriends, lol. Even though I know now what was driving this.

However, I split my life down the middle. The wild me was only when L was with his dad. When L was with me, I was 100% mom... which I must elaborate on. Becoming a mother has saved me. I am very proud of saying I am an incredible mother. The day that boy was born I swore to G-d that I would die before I did anything to hurt him the way my mom did to me. I have cherished and showered him with love every day of his life. He is now a beautiful, creative, healthy, balanced 16 year old.

During all the years, the drama with my mother continued. She was in and out of our lives, constantly creating stress, anxiety. But I has some sort of peace as I was living my own life parallel to that. The demons in my head continued. I was still depersonalizing, maybe once a month at that point. Nobody knew a thing. I wasn't really pretending, I just always thought "keep going, you're on the right track, this is life, everyone has this". On the exterior, it seemed like I had picked up (or was picking) the pieces.

The single years lasted about 5 years then I met S. We met online. He completely swept me off my feet. He was smart, articulate, generous, caring, nurturing, and incredibly funny. He was a comedy writer. He was a creative. We could talk movies for hours. we lived in different cities 5 hours apart so we developed a friendship tainted by 'if you were here, I'd date you'. Finally after 3 months of long phone calls, he hit the road and came up to meet me. It was immediate. We fell in love, committed to each other. I started custody procedures so I could move with my son (from a career opportunity perspective, it made more sense for me to move there. I also secretly really loved the idea of starting fresh somewhere else). After 2 years of courts, and lawyers, and weekends spent driving back and forth between cities, I packed up myself and L and we moved down to be with S. I left everything behind. Everything. That was 2008.

I'm going to truncate the last 9 years, as I feel if there are still a select few readers still with me, I don't want to loose you too, lol.

We got married, we made a beautiful life for ourselves. S became incredibly successful (he's a casting director), I started my Freelance business here. I also took over the small agency I ran (that job I spoke about above) (Ironically, I had said 10 years before, "one day, I'm going to own this joint"). We bought a beautiful house. For a while, power couple. On the outside.

My mom created massive drama during those years. She didn't come to my wedding, nor did my entire extended family - she bullied them into cutting me off. But I was now in a different city. The distance helped create boundaries. i went to therapy and continued working through my 'baggage'.

S and I went through a rough patch when we decided we wanted to have another child. We went through 3 years of infertility, I had 5 miscarriages during that time, and one ectopic pregnancy that that nearly killed me (emergency surgery: my left tube has burst, they removed it). But we found a doctor who specialized in an alternative approach, and found our problem, and finally in 2014, our son I was born.

Things have been good. We've had moments of amazing and great, but we've also had some very dark times. We work really well together as partners, parents, friends. But emotionally, there has been this gap and distance that I have never been able to wrap my head around. Our relationship has been tainted by these toxic patterns that we just haven't been able to work though. The more time passes, the more resentment builds, so it hasn't been getting any better.

I also almost lost my sister during those years. Her journey through this has been drastically different than mine. It hasn't been easy for her. She developed some serious health issues (chronic asthma) along with a lot of unhealthy patterns, severe depression and not taking care of herself. In 2008, she had an asthma attack, and went into full respiratory failure. Her lungs collapsed and we almost lost her. She was in an induced coma for a week, and the doctors weren't certain she would make it. But she did. She got through it, but it has very much impacted her life to this day. She's on permanent disability from the aftermath of this.

My relationship with my sister was rough our entire life. We've been incredibly close, yet the most brutal enemies. She was one of the people I felt abandoned by for most of my life. I felt betrayed by her (there was a lot of bad blood I didn't speak about here, I'll write the book, you could read about it there, haha!). I am now understanding why. We have simply been triggers for each other our entire life. We are now talking about it for the first time and working through it. I even send her the link to this site.

In November of 2015, I started having flashbacks and nightmares about what happened to me at 18.

In short: I was raped by my cousin. We were the same age, we were very close, although he lived in Florida. I flew down for spring break to party with him in Daytona (what teenager doesn't want that??). He got me black out drunk, and I woke up naked in his bed the next morning, with him bringing me coffee like if it was consensual and normal. I was confused, and so messed up, I went along and made him swear to never tell a soul. I flew home the next day, back to my abusive mother, and bf, and pretended like it never happened. I never told a soul. For 23 years. Until last year when the PTSD, and nightmares and flashbacks started. I now remember the violence of that night.

This opened Pandora's box for me. I went to see a Shamanic healer (that's a whole other topic, which I would love to explore with those of you that are interested in spirituality). I did some soul searching. I even went back to school (in school full time right now). And last week, I discovered C-PTSD. And now, I feel I am coming home, for the first time ever. All that is wrong in my life is starting to make sense.

I'm now at a crossroads in my marriage. I am hoping S will come along for the ride, but I'm terrified like many others, he bows out with "I didn't sign up for this". If that should happen, I will get through it, although right now, I am frankly terrified. Because ultimately, I want to go on this journey with him. He's the love of my life. I'm so afraid.

I don't know how to end this, so I'll just stop here. As all of you know, there is so much more, but I'm ready to start melting that iceberg.

Thank you again so much for reading. Sending you all love and light.

I've been 'depersonalizing' since I was a child. I remember being a kid and the feeling of "am I really here? Is this really me?" like I was outside my body. It happened daily. This started so early for me that most of my life, I thought it was normal. I thought everyone had these weird things happen. Like a brain short-circuit. I really did. Only later in life when I gained more knowledge and emotional intelligence did I start telling myself "girl, that ain't right'. But then the shame kicked in so I just kept it to myself.

My question is this has continued to happen to me in adulthood. I never monitored it to see if there was a pattern. I can't say it happens often now, but sometimes it will, out of nowhere. I'm just learning about this. Do any of you have a similar experience and are these short episodes usually directly linked to something or just random?

Hey, My name is bazou. I found this forum last night and decided to register this morning.

Some past trauma I had suppressed came back to haunt me last year. As I starting working through the process of dealing with this, the floodgates opened and all the pain from all the trauma in my life came smacking me in the face.

I started looking for help, did a lot of soul searching, went to see a spiritual healer, started therapy, etc. I wasn't officially diagnosed, but after 3 professionals telling me I was showing clear signs of PTSD, I started reading up about it. Then I found the term 'C-PTSD' which seamed to be more applicable in my case, and that was it. As I read about what C-PTSD was, I couldn't believe how everything I had ever felt in my life was right there in black and white.

I've been working through this but still struggling with triggers and all the noise in my head. And the sadness. I've been in fight or flight mode my entire life, and I don't know how to shut that off.

This has trickled into my marriage, and we just hit a wall. For the first time, I am seeing clearly how my relationship, which for the first few years was a haven for me, has now become a trigger.

Anyway... dealing with all this but right now, it's *. And desperately need to let this stuff out so here I am .