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I realized something the other day and it was one of those rare aha-moments that change a bit of who you are forever. I´ve been familiar with the IFS for a longer time now but it seems that I never fully embodied what does it mean to have different parts, functioning independently, with their own perception of time and space. Until a few days ago when I suddenly went into flashback-mode for a reason yet unknown to me. I was having a fine couple of days before, enjoying the small things that bring me joy and just being okay-ish with my life when this sudden wave of sadness and desperation hit. My thoughts were as always "nothing will ever get better" and "you will never get out of this" and just very strong emotions like sadness, grief and fear. So I let it out, cried to release the pressure which helped me a little bit but what was more interesting was that this time I didn´t feel this to be universal. While I was crying and thinking these catastrophizing thoughts, a different voice in me was also present and also crying but for a different reason. It was weeping because it was sorry and heartbroken that the other part cannot see how wonderful human being I was. And that´s when the realization hit. I asked myself who this voice belonged to. And why do I hear two different voices at the same time. Before that I thought that when I´m in a mood, it belongs to me as a whole. That if I feel depressed and think that nothing´s ever going to change, me as a whole system thinks that. But in this particular moment, I realized that I have parts that struggle, parts that are depressed and parts that are hopeful and believing in myself. And that these parts are more or less active based on what triggers them in the outside world or even inside as a result of and emotion or a memory that I can´t process.

This particular part I identified is a child, me at the age of eight or nine but it could be basically whichever age from my entire childhood. But it´s definitely a child, a little girl. And this girl is stuck in the past, in an endless circle of abuse and neglect. She feels trapped and this is absolutely a reality to her, exactly as it happened, as she experienced it. Every time something bad happened to her, she was utterly alone. Not once anyone came to her rescue, so she gradually came to understand that she is totally alone in this world, that no one cares enough to help her. The world has forgotten her, she is not important, she is worthless, unloved because unlovable. And this was her absolute every day reality for almost two decades. No wonder that she is trapped in this parallel universe, unable to find her way out of this labyrinth of scary memories. And every now and then when something reminds her of those memories, something triggering, she rings the bell and cries out so loud that I can´t ignore it even if I wanted to. This is her speaking: this frightened little girl who by the age of eight is absolutely convinced that she is absolutely alone in this whole world. The world has forgotten about her. She is just a grain of sand in the deserted world she only knows.

But knowing now that she is a part of me, I can talk to her and be with her as with something separate but also equal to me. I can take a step back to observe her situation better, but give her all my love because we are one. I can take her hand, hug her and tell her that I love her to the moon and back and she´ll understand me even without words. And that´s what I´m trying to do these days: just be with her so that she can feel that she´s not alone anymore. I´m here, not going anywhere, not letting anyone to hurt her again. I can be the parent she never had and also my own best friend with that notion. I don´t want to fix her. She is perfect the way she is and is here for a reason. She´s a messenger trying to show me that there´s something needing my attention if I´m willing to listen and watch. And I´m willing and committed to love myself as I would love my child from my flesh and blood. May I have what it takes.

Hannah, I think that it is absolutely normal and fine to have days like this, even if it doesn´t feel good, what I am sincerely sorry for. Being with that, recognizing and acknowledging it is in my opinion the best gift you can give to yourself for Valentine´s day. Thinking about you and hoping you feel that you´re not alone. Hang in there 

Thanks a lot to you too 

I can understand you perfectly, Dalloway, as I am also trying to do something with my life, searching for purposeful and fulfilling activities and something exciting, engaging and meaningful. And I am rarely satisfied with my results honestly.

Wishing you all the very best! 

 

I'm realizing that I didn't complete my post and the book is Freedom From Your Inner Critic: A Self Therapy Approach by Jay Earley. It's a good place to start as he maps out how to work with parts like the inner critic if you're interested.

I checked out the book and it looks very interesting, thank you for the recommendation. 

SenseOrgan, I read your latest post with a smile on my face and a joy in my heart. I´m SO happy for you that I can barely put that into words. You write with so much clarity about your experience. I think that acknowledging the possibility that it may not be permanent is one of the hardest things on the healing journey. And yet, I don´t feel hopelessness from your words at all. Being happy for a friend is one of the most awesome feelings ever and that´s how I feel right now, so thank you for that. You deserve to be happy with your authenticity that is the most beautiful gift one can give to themselves and you´re doing that right know, so kudos to you.

And the myth of social anxiety? Wow. You spoke to and from my heart really. As someone who´s been struggling with that my whole life, I felt every word deep in my soul. And you´re perfectly right. It is always a flashback to those scary times in the past when I was in real danger and it doesn´t matter that I´m not in one anymore, my body feels otherwise.

I´m more and more convinced that the key to recovering our whole self is to connect to safe and loving people. Building relationships and/or a community is crucial to heal the wounds of disconnection. I´m glad you´re taking those steps and it´s really awesome to bear witness to that.

Maybe you could pass me your umbrella once you got out of the storm if you won´t need that anymore. 

Thank you all for responding, I appreciate your thoughtful and wise responses. I very much like the idea of facing the inner voice and being curious about it´s purposes and also asking where it thinks I should be and what I should do. Looking back at my post and all the "symptoms" I listed, I think deep down I was at least 80% sure that this was the inner critic, mostly because of it´s tendency to use more harsh and rude language. I think I desperately want to do something with my life, but am never satisfied with what I´m doing and where I am at the moment. And I also want to be a bit braver because I sincerely think that there are some awesome things on the other side of the fear, I just don´t know how to climb the fence yet. The journey itself is scary and discouraging sometimes. But this forum is one of the few places I can turn to in times of need, looking for answers, and I can also contribute to building something great with our shared experience. So thank you again for taking the time to respond and for seeing and validating me. 

Hi everyone,

hope you´re having a nice Sunday. There is something I struggle with and thought it might be a good idea to share it with people who understand and maybe can also relate, to get some ideas on this issue.

So I kind of identified an inner voice that is always present, sometimes as a background noise, but at times when things slow and calm down around me, gets very intensive and loud. When I rest in the stillness and silence after the busy and loud week (it happens most often on the weekends when I have the opportunity to breath a sigh of relief), there is a voice that comes around from the darkness and whispers to me "you should be doing something else" or "you should be somewhere else". It means that I´m not in a place I would like to be and not quiet living the life I want to - the joyous and content one I dream of.

I tried to identify the voice, it´s origin and source but here I kind of bump into a wall, because I have two theories on what this voice can be. My first take is that it´s the voice of the inner critic who was taught to remind me every time I´m not perfect not to rest, not to relax, but to try hard and work hard to reach the perfection. Also, when I hear this voice, I get very upset and hopeless, whatever I was doing before, having fun or just enjoying myself or being grateful for the things in the present moment. The appearance of the voice ruins my mood because it reminds me of how far I am from achieving my goals and from solving my biggest issues. It´s trying to make me see that all the small things that bring me instant gratification are illusory and that they are a form of denial. Instead, I have to focus on the harsh truths and the dark reality of my past enmeshed with my present.

But there is something else present that could also be the answer. The voice of my true self, coming from within, trying to whisper in my ear, desperate to convince me that I am capable of things, that I´m brave enough to make it. This part of me loves me endlessly and never gives up on me. It´s always there, in times of turmoil quietly whispering, in better times talking loud and clear. I imagine it as a calling that, if you are able to concentrate on, becomes a clear message of what you have to do in the pursuit of happiness. There are things I´m afraid of or not able to do yet that would maybe one day make my life happier - connecting to people, learning to trust again, loving myself with all my heart. And maybe this voice wants me to do some heavy lifting because it knows that it might be uncomfortable or scary first, but the rough and dangerously looking path would lead to a beautiful forest with birds and flowers and a crystal clear stream.

How do I know which voice is talking to me in the moment? Is it the inner critic that wants to force me not to rest and achieve perfection and robs me of enjoying the small moments of equanimity? Or is it the voice of my authentic self, trying to reach me with the message of not giving up on life and being brave even when I don´t feel like? Would the inner critic try to get me into uncomfortable situations that may later bring joy? Wouldn´t it try to make me hide or advise me to be invisible and perfect in order to survive, just as it learned to do when I was a child? Could it be both? Or none of them?

Thank you for sharing this San, I really appreciate you writing so openly about the harsh truth of the effects of deprivation. It reminded me of my own emotional neglect, the touch deprivation from my M and her inability to validate my existence. It is unbelievably hideous because it´s invisible, because it´s not something that was done to you, it´s something you needed but didn´t get. I can feel it´s omnipotence and omnipresence in my life. Once you lose one or more pieces, you´ll probably feel their absence your whole life. It´s heartbreaking to even think about it and try to process everything the deprivation robbed you of. I´m sorry for your loss, but I hope you can find those missing pieces for yourself. 

Today my philosophy teacher complimented me on a seminar paper I wrote about the importance of social work in modern world. I hated the text I sent him. I didn´t think it was good enough, I didn´t even think it was enough to pass the exam. But then he told me that this was a brilliant work and he liked it very much. At first, I was shocked and relieved that I passed the exam, and honestly, I couldn´t believe my ears. My strongest belief was that everything I do is at best average. I was happy for a moment, I could feel the joy spreading in my body, it made me smile. But then the bad stuff hit in.

The disbelief that it can be true was massive. There´s no way he´s right. There needs to be an explanation other than I really deserved the praise. He´s wrong. He´s exaggerating. The other works were so bad that mine looked better in that light. He doesn´t know what he´s talking about. I refused to let in the idea of simply being sufficient and good enough. I believe that every single person in this world is wrong about me when they attribute me some positive qualities. I´m an impostor and soon they´ll know that. And then I´ll be shamed and punished cause that´s what liars like me deserve. Or what´s even worse than punishment, I won´t live up to their expectations, and I´ll have to face the terrible fact that I let down everyone. Because I´m a disappointment, that´s what I am.

I took the train home and as I settled, tears welled up in my eyes. That´t when I understood that I was grieving for that little girl who never once got positive attention in her life, who was never told how precious she was and was always gaslit into believing that she´s a damaged good. I was uncomfortable hearing the compliments because I never got one from my own mother. And I felt heartbreak hearing this random teacher say those kind words to me because my mom never even got close to be this kind to me. I was crying for the child that was lied to about her not being good enough that led to her adult self questioning even the smallest things she does.

At this point, I´m equally heartbroken and helpless. It´s a lot to take in. It´s hard to comprehend how can someone destroy their own child´s self-esteem at the very core. And it´s even harder to understand how huge of an impact it had on my life. It´s literally everywhere. My very core was injured, the part that was supposed to make me a whole person with a clear sense of self. How could I function as a whole and healthy person when I was betrayed this bad? My whole world fell apart once upon a time when I was a little kid. Now the adult found those pieces but doesn´t know what to do with them.

I would say YOU GO GIRL...but it would be weird, wouldn´t it?      So maybe leave the "girl" part out. I´m very happy for you and pass me some non-alcoholic alternative please. 

Hi and a warm welcome, Olly. I can relate to you not being comfortable with talking about your trauma related issues to anyone except your therapist, it´s a hard one for me, too. Mostly I´m afraid (or certain in a way) that people won´t understand and then I won´t be seen and heard and that freaks me out. I´m glad though that you found your way here just as the tiny turtles find their way to the ocean after being hatched. 
My favorite reptile is turtle, not just because they are cute  but also for their strength and resilience - they´re a little like us, CPTSD folks. And I really like the vibes your request created in the comments, the playfulness of it is really heartwarming, so thank you for that. 

I´m thinking about the heartbreakingly beautiful Beatles song, The long and winding road and I picture myself walking on that road, but then I remember that it´s not even my road that I paved with my decisions and acts. It was made for me by unfortunate forces that forced me to walk that road. I didn´t get to say if I wanted that. Nor did I get to grow up to be a person I could be. Instead, I grew up to be an entity, not even a person, because a person, in my opinion, has its own traits.

It´s a recovery journal, but I don´t think I am recovering. Maybe I shouldn´t write in this section, it feels hypocritical of me to think about this as a part of my healing journey. Which journey? That I´ve been doing so far from the perspective of someone who was constructed to be me? Because the person I had a potential to be is sure not the one that is suffering through her days, trying to make sense of things that simply don´t make any sense.

Building something in top of sand is very hard work. And not just that, it´s absolutely meaningless. You can try million times and return to the very same spot you started from. You walk the road that´s been paved for many decades. The long, winding road. Only it´s not YOUR road, it´s someone else´s. But changing the whole paradigm of your existence is not easy, especially if you don´t have any new paradigms that would do. You don´t want to start building a sandcastle again.

So I´m just waiting and waiting. Trying to find meaning in this chaos and trying to wish for the things to finally settle, because at this moment they are just floating on the surface of my consciousness like waterlilies. And I´m not able to do anything more than watching it hypnotized and numb. The world is deconstructed and I can´t decide whether it´s something new or if it was just like this before, only my eyes were closed. I will have to wait patiently to find out.

TW for the whole text - mention of abuse

I get jealous of people who are cared for all the time. The presence of other people in each other´s lives makes me feel my utter loneliness and pain even more. I dream about similar things almost every night: the scenario is always me being around a bunch of people who are getting along very well, but seemingly unaware of the fact that I´m also part of the group. The pain I feel every night is very real because it´s the same pain I feel constantly when I´m awake. So during the day, in those hours of sleepwalking and actively trying to stay sane enough to do the things I´m supposed to as an adult, my whole existence is about profound and omnipresent loneliness. People´s interactions, understanding of each other and connections remind me of my being an outsider, far-far away from the human society. And every missed connection, each skipped conversation, every laughter and chitchat I´m not a part of, is telling me the decades long story that I´ve already memorized when I was a child. "You are not a valuable human being with a shape and form, boundaries and a real existence. You are just a shapeless entity, made to serve other people´s needs and desires. You don´t have your voice, it was all given to you and one day, when you decide to give it back, you´ll have nothing left."

The person I was made into never got to experience what true love is. She never once heard that she´s loved and frankly, that the people around her are really glad that she´s there. She has no qualities that she could give in exchange for love from others. She doesn´t even expect anyone to love her, because she understands that that´s impossible, since she´s unlovable. That´s what she learned with every breath, with every word and every glance from her mother, every time she was yelled at, called names and hit. "You only get what you deserve and deep in your heart you know that´s because you deserve nothing more than that."

It´s a person that was made to suffer. I´m not wondering why. I only know that she doesn´t for a second believe that she deserves the love she´s yearning for. Just like in her dreams - or should I at this point start to call them nightmares - of every night: no one´s there to validate her existence and if someone does, it´s in a so pitiful way that getting nothing feels better than that. "You are a burden to people, can´t you see that?" And she knows that and knows that she was indeed made to suffer. Dreaming or awake, her shadow is following her everywhere. The shadow made of tears, blood and silent cries, cause no one comes to help anyway.

But now this person is a sweetheart, smiling at the terrible world that made her suffer. She doesn´t know better than to smile. Crying is not an option - it´s totally useless and also totally dangerous. If she´s nice all the time, she can maybe get some affection at least. Attention that is faked or illusory, she has no doubt about that. There´s no way people are capable of giving true, unconditional love to her. Her mother didn´t do that, why would they? Everyone wants something in return. Be silent, be a good girl, listen to all the names they are calling you, stay still when they accuse you of things you didn´t do, feel you rage boiling in your chest and then swallow it. Forget the natural instincts you were born with: stay quiet when you want to scream, stay in your place when you want to run away and hide. Freeze, again and again and again.

I need to talk about her in third person sometimes. This person can´t be me. She´s so broken and full of scars, who would like to be her? To think about all the things she went through is scary as *. And yet, it´s me carrying the memories that haunt me in my dreams. I can´t get rid of them, can´t push them away, send them to the end of the world. I have to live with all that happened and continues to happen day by day. It never ended because it lives inside me for the rest of my life.

HannahOne, a very warm welcome, I´m glad you´re here. Your post resonates with me very much, especially the grieving of the things you never had because of the trauma. I´m struggling with this very much right know, I just can´t seem to let go of all the "what ifs" I carry with myself. But I try to be understanding and patient towards myself and "trust the process". I hope you´ll find all the support you need here. 

Hi Saluki,
a few years ago I also decided to write down my story, but when I started, I realized that it´s very hard because of the traumatic memory that isn´t linear and all the emotions that are changing in their intensity from time to time, so they are not stable or consistent enough to be able to capture them. So I kind of accepted that it´s impossible for me to get a whole picture of it all with beginning and ending because it´s still in progress. But I appreciate very much all the people who write their memoires because it gives me much hope and validation, so I´m glad these books exist. For me, writing is something very soothing, I journal every day, but it´s usually a stream of thoughts about the things that are bothering me the most at the moment. It´s my way of feeling less alone with my struggles. And I also write here on the forum, which is a safe place, but I can´t imagine exposing myself to a potentially unsafe environment. But again, I´m very grateful for people who decide to publish their stories and I agree with you that it can be very helpful for fellow trauma survivors.