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I think that the older demographic here makes a lot of sense. I'm quite young, myself, but I only came to terms with the fact that I was hurting, because my parents had been out of my life for a while, and I am in a very loving, supportive relationship. I had a lot of time to step back, and put things in perspective. Most people in their 20s seem to be too busy and impatient for true self-reflection. I even get caught up in it sometimes. School, work, party, game, eat, sleep, seems to be the usual in my peer group. It's not until that existential dread sets in, that "what am I doing with my life?" moment, that a lot of people really sit back, and examine their lives.

I'm really glad we have such a diverse demographic here. I really value the chance to listen to the wisdom and perspectives of so many different people, all working together, peacefully, toward the same goal. I'd say it's quite a step forward for everyone involved. I really like it here; this is a perfect place for growing and healing as a human being. I'm a very pacifistic person, and just knowing this place exists does my (oft-ignored) spiritual side some good.

I like tea. I especially like Earl Grey. One sugar, no milk.

I like playing bombastic songs on piano, and singing equally melodramatic tunes.

When I play classical music, I like to pretend to conduct the orchestra in my head, or, when no one's looking, I'll grab the nearest stick and go ham.

I like martial arts, especially aikido. Rolls are really fun.

I like cats. Especially big fluffy ones that warm you in winter.

It's hard to get to know yourself after not having a self for so long.

I think they're adorable!  And it's awesome that you made them yourself. 

Today I feel tired. And with exhaustion comes impatience.

I want the journey to be over. I want to wake up in my bed, just once, and not have the horrible reality that was my life wash over me.

I want to forget. I want to run away from the memories that haunt me. I want to curl up into a little ball underneath the covers, and pretend the world doesn't exist.

I want a soothing rain to replace the raging storm. I'm tired of dodging the lightning. Sometimes, it seems like it might be worth it to just let it hit me.

It used to be enough for me, to just survive. But now I want to live, and it feels like it's killing me.

I can relate. I'm often too tense and socially hypervigilant to simply hold a normal amount of relaxed eyecontact. I'm either avoiding people's eyes, or I'm keeping too much eyecontact, usually because I'm worried that I'd slide back into avoiding people's eyes. All or nothing. I'll probably have to watch more people talk to see how they do it, so I can then fake it till I make it. It's annoying though. In my teenage years, I was so lonely and isolated that I'm still self-conscious when it comes to the tiniest things. It's like: "this thing you earthlings call a con-vur-zay-shun: how does it function? Take me to your leader so he can inform me of the requisite paradigms."

I died laughing!

This exactly describes my life right now!   

I find I do this a lot when I'm tired.

I slept so little last week, that I "lost" an entire night, and misplaced my wallet. It makes me feel like I am going insane.

Losing my wallet is quite an event for me. I'm normally very responsible.

Yes it happens to me all the time. Is that called dissociation? Like you see someone talking or know they started talking to you but you dont know what they said? I thought at first im just notgood at multi tasking, but when the children react in disbelief and frustrated irealised that doesnt happen with them and my husband.i started to tryand recognise those times and snap out of it, usually its still too late but i realise i go deep into thinking about past things almost like im there again. I thought everyone does this though...

Annegirl, what you describe at the end there, is a thought trap called rumination. If you stop by this forum's counterpart, you'll find that a lot of us have the same problem. There's a thread there, where we're all trying to work together to stop ruminating.

http://outofthefog.net/forum/index.php?topic=39257.0

Not everyone does that, and it's really a bad habit to keep rehashing the past. It makes it really hard to move on, and I'd have to say it's my number one obstacle right now.

I have had pretty bad nightmares ever since my dad left, and my mom started freaking out more. I can usually deal with them; they don't leave a lasting impression. Normally, I wake up, think, "wow, that's messed up, brain," and go back to sleep. Even if I wake up crying, or shaking, it doesn't usually last. Last night, I had one that I couldn't shake, though, and I just want to get it out. I told a couple of friends about it already, but I can use some more support. I'm disproportionately shaken up.

I was in a dystopia ruled by rival gangs, and my father was part of one of them. The rival gang tried to kill him. I was very small in this dream, and couldn't save him. I was very scared, and ran away, leaving him to die.

A time skip occurred (because I'm just super creative, yo), and the gang my father was related to was after an age- and skills-accurate me, trying to kill me. I ran and ran, but eventually, they caught up to me, and tried to kill me in the same manner my father was murdered. Apparently, my father had been alive the whole time. He told me it was my punishment for not saving him, as he tried to deliver the finishing blow. I escaped at the last moment, but my father died in a fire he set. I continued to run.

I woke up after that, and couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

I think I had that dream because of the guilt I feel for not saving my father or mother from themselves. I always have this niggling voice that tries to convince me that if I had just done X, or if I'd done more, everything would have worked out just fine. It seems to be a more focused version of the shame and guilt I had as a child, when I felt like everything wrong with the world was my fault.

I think it shook me so badly because I'm finally starting to understand fully that their choices are not my fault.

I hope that, even though it was terrible, it helped me process some emotions subconsciously. I think that's part of the reason I have such awful nightmares. I don't allow myself to feel enough when I'm awake. I constantly invalidate my own emotions, and when I do acknowledge them, it's only because I can get rid of them faster that way. I don't know how to break out of it, and embrace myself as a living, feeling, human being, instead of a machine.

I constantly want the best for my SO, and I enjoy his company, and I trust him. But feeling warm and tingly all the time sounds exhausting. Certainly, I feel better around him than not, but after 5 years, I get more of a sense of belonging around him than butterflies in the stomach. I feel safe when I'm around him. I think this is how having a loving family might feel.

Does anyone else find themselves afraid to have children because of the abuse they've been through? If you have kids, how did you work past the CPTSD, and the bad lessons your parents taught you?

I ask because, although my SO said that he's okay if I can't/don't want to have kids, he would prefer to have them. I told him I'm still undecided. I know he loves me, and he's very forward-thinking, but to my knowledge, this is one of those things that hits people harder than they thought once it's finalized. I'm really afraid that if I don't start a family with him that he's going to have an existential crisis somewhere down the line, and it'll be all my fault because I'm broken, and shouldn't have been anywhere near a relationship with someone normal like him, anyway. My mother wanted to end the cycle of abuse, and only ended up furthering it. I don't want to do the same. I would rather never have kids than subject them to a life like I had.

Well, there are no trains here!

I like to think of it less as a tunnel and more like a valley. You are heading for a distant hill! It might be hard, but if you keep going, and don't give up, you'll only be that much more prepared for the next valley. I wish you all the best. Many warm hugs to you for making it this far!

Thank you so much, Trees. It's really nice to meet you! 

I was reading your welcome post just a little bit ago, actually. There are some very nice analogies I think I'm going to keep. That woods one was the best. It's exactly what I needed in my life.   

Something my sensei told me might be applicable here:

When you're learning something, there are hills and valleys. Sometimes, you find yourself on top of a hill, making progress, and sometimes you find yourself in a valley. Beyond that, there is another hill to be climbed. Even if you don't feel like you're making progress, keep going, because the valley can't go on forever.

Thank you for being here, Warringmind, and I hope you find a safe place to heal.

Hello, guys.

I don't know if many from OOTF post here, but I was referred here after I had a bad day, and someone told me it sounded like I was having an emotional flashback. I read about them here; how they feel, what happens physically, and I realized that I have them all the time. How convenient, that I've been trained to emotionally abuse myself for my mother.

It's really tough for me to read posts here. I'm very bad at processing emotion,  and a lot of the stuff, even simple things like symptoms lists, bring me to a very dark place, that I haven't had enough practice getting out of yet. So my posts here might be very intermittent at first. I want to make sure I can face myself, and the consequences of my abuse, without running away. I've regressed before by jumping in with both feet. I'm going to try the slow approach this time. Moving on from this sort of thing isn't something that is going to happen overnight. I hope I can find the patience.

So my story, which I put bits and pieces of on OOTF:

It all started with my grandmother. Or maybe her mother. Or her mother's mother. Cycles of abuse have a funny way of perpetuating themselves, but I don't want to speculate. So my grandmother was, as I call her, a heinous SOB. She physically abused my mother, beating her severely for not cleaning the right way. She emotionally abused her, telling her she was ugly and fat, and making sure she knew she didn't have the beauty of her older sister. She neglected her, by not allowing her to eat if she didn't comply with her every whim. My mother was responsible for keeping the house when her parents were away, and tried her best to raise her little brothers. She was the family SG. My mother knew all of this was abuse. She used to share her stories with me, because holding something like that inside hurts, and she didn't have the resources I do. I feel so sad for her. Her intention was not to perpetuate her mother's ways, but she wasn't self-aware enough to stop it.

My mother was forced into an abusive marriage when she was 16, and had my older sister. Even though my mother thought from a young age that she was destined to be a mom, being a teenage mother almost invariably does not turn out well. She physically abused my sister, and as soon as she could, my sister moved out. I was very young at the time, but I do remember my sister, and I'm sure her leaving when I was 2 didn't do me any favors. I also found out that my father would get drunk, and try to abuse me for regular "being a baby" stuff like crying, and my older sister would come to my rescue.

After my sister left, my mother was devastated. I don't remember being abused at all in the years immediately following. Then, out of nowhere, my mother started hitting me for minor offenses, like fidgeting. CPS was called, and I lied to them for my mother when they asked if she had ever hit me.

My little sister was born shortly afterwards, and my mother was convinced the baby hated her. My mother was so stressed out and overwhelmed by the colicky baby, that I can only assume she terrified her, because after a while, I was the only one who she would accept food from quietly. Then, we had a babysitter who would literally force-feed us, and my sister ate very little from then on. I taught my baby sister to speak, and played with her constantly, until my brother came along. My sister insisted that my brother was hers, and hers alone. I told her that was ridiculous, that he belonged to both of us, and she attacked me. Naturally, as the oldest, I was blamed for that fight, and many to come. My sister made a habit of attacking me, and afterwards running to my mother crying about it. I would then be forced to apologize for fighting her,  while she would escape punishment.

After my sister started attacking me, my temperament changed. I became moody and suicidal. My brother was the only light in my life at that point, since I didn't know how to make friends, and my mother wasn't any help. Still, I ended up hurting him a lot as a toddler, because who leaves their eight year old, with zero parenting skills, alone constantly, with a toddler going through their terrible twos? I'm not proud of how I handled the situation, but I don't think the entirety of the blame falls on my shoulders.

Then my youngest sister came along, and sh*t really hit the fan. My father left before her first birthday, leaving myself and my mother devastated. My mother fell into depression, and we were evicted from our house. We moved around constantly after that, and ultimately ended up homeless. I was called upon more and more to take care of my siblings, but I could never do enough. My mother told me I was useless, worthless, that she hated me, that I was scuzzy, dirty, a whore, and I couldn't wrap my stupid little brain around reality. She told me many times that she wanted to kill me, during her rages. One time, I got it into my head to challenge her to do so, since she clearly wanted to, and she sat on me, and crushed me until I couldn't breathe.

I legitimately feared for my life when she was raging, and they were unpredictable, so I was very anxious, always pumped full of adrenaline. It gave me a very empty feeling, a sort of knot in my stomach, and I couldn't process any emotion in that state. So I started self-injuring at 13. I couldn't sleep at all when I was a teenager, and I barely tried, since all that was awaiting me were nightmares. I had one really good friend, and I think that if I hadn't been able to escape to her house, I would have really gone insane. I internalized my mother's rants. I legitimately thought I was worth nothing. I lashed out at anyone who angered me, parroting my mother's rages. I became as moody and unpredictable as my mother, my own moods tied closely to hers.

I wasn't allowed to be a sexual being, so dating was out of the question. I started coming out of the FOG when I was 17, though, and rebelling. When my mother attacked me, and I decided I'd had enough, and defended myself, she mostly gave up on trying to force me around physically. Instead, she turned on my siblings, mostly when I wasn't around, because I tried my best to defend them, too. I made more friends, started dating, and moved out as soon as I could.

I maintained NC with my mother for the first year I was gone, but then my siblings' birthdays came up, and I couldn't take the guilt of not being there at all, like my father. So I reinstated contact. I should have known it was a bad idea when the first thing my mother did was verbally harass me in public about leaving her, and yell at me for what I'd written in my private notebooks. She then proceeded to try and break me up with my SO (who is a very loving and supportive person), get me to come back and live with her, and constantly showed up at my place of work under the guise of bringing me lunch to guilt-trip me into giving her more money, and defame me to my coworkers.

She soon ran out of motel rooms to stay in, so I had my siblings stay with me. It was supposed to be a very temporary arrangement, but it turned into a month-long stay, that ended with my landlord telling me I couldn't have them there. The whole time they stayed there, my mother yelled at me about their care. I was 20, and worked midnights. I knew their situation wasn't ideal, but they were older than I was (13, 14 and 17) when I was given responsibility of them, and I did provide easy meals to make, a place to sleep, and entertainment. My mother was also very angry that she wasn't allowed to stay with us, but my SO put his foot down for both his and my sakes. I was always in a terrible mood when I interacted with my mother, and my mother hated my SO.

She stole my grocery money, and moved out of state with it about a year later. She didn't tell me. She knew how much I feared being abandoned, and threw it directly in my face. I didn't know how to grieve, so I shut down. My relationship became rocky, and everything reminded me of my family. She contacted me again to ask for more money, and I gave her all the extra I had, but it wasn't enough. She asked for more constantly, blowing up my phone while I was trying to sleep. I gave her what I could, but then I learned she was lying about why she needed the money. She would say it was for some school function, or what have you, that didn't exist.

I stopped sending money, and went NC (for good this time), when my brother told me she had spit in his face. She had done the same thing to me when I was around 15, and it was the single most degrading, spiteful thing I had ever experienced. I was livid. I confronted her with my grievances. Looking back, I could have presented them in a calmer fashion, but I think I did very well. She spat in my face verbally; told me I have a "Cinderella complex without ever lifting a finger," and said that now I can go rant at work about how I have a horrible mother.

So I ranted at work about how I have a horrible mother. Every word I said was true. It was liberating.

Unfortunately, she still haunts me. Sometimes, it's a guilt I can't shake, or a bad mood I can't get out of. Sometimes, it's in the violent rages I try so hard not to succumb to. Sometimes, I panic over things that are seemingly benign, but hold significance, like the remote she threw at me, or raised voices. I constantly ask my SO if something's wrong, if he's mad. I feel an incessant need to apologize, like I'm imposing by just existing. I never feel like I'm doing enough for people, even when I'm exhausted. I'm very glad I found OOTF. It's really put some things into perspective for me, and I hope I can learn and grow even more here.

Thanks for making it to the end of this post. I know it's long, but it was very cathartic for me. I didn't start out with the intention of writing a novel, but I've always been long-winded. Thanks for sticking it out.