Messages

There is no opportunity to intentionally select something that you would authentically like to be better at for your own personal growth and then take baby steps to cultivate it. There is only the desperate fight for survival and the willingness to pretend to be anything just to make it another day. 

Wow.

Not to veer too far from the original, meaningful point of the thread, but this example summarizes so well why cliches can feel duplicitous and manipulative. They were code for pleasing both our unreasonable families, and to a very large (often terrifying) extent, making the "right impression" to others...i.e. the impression they insisted we make. Surviving them and surviving in a world we assumed was just like them had nothing to do with authenticity and everything to do with appearances. I know there was never any plan, never any learning curve, just the threat of humiliation if we didn't conform to Hallmark expectations.

mary, thanks so much for that link. It's dense and difficult in places and I'll have to revisit it, but I identify with so much. One of the (many) points that rang true was acknowledgement mindfulness techniques can play, and the universal distinction between feeling secure with other people and secure within ourselves. Of course they are inextricably linked, and horrible early parenting damages both, but the fact remains that each of us need to "find" our own centers as individuals. Trust is the core. Maybe if we learn to trust ourselves...

Sometimes better adjusted and engaged people often strike me as incredibly shallow, though I envy their apparent ease. They seem to be able to avoid the deepest existential pain, or at least aren't paralyzed by it.  I think I have always thought too much, felt too much...at least that was the accusation. It feels like an inexhaustible (and exhausting!) struggle with past and present. The security I seek, inside and out, materially and emotionally, seems increasingly out of reach. I worry about "inflicting" myself on others, while at the same time feeling greatly wounded by their insensivity. Your remark about the chance to grow (and for me it must be without a therapist) is just so very heartening. Thank you.

I think we all understand that a certain amount of platitudes and upbeat truisms figure into getting through polite, non-committal conversation and work situations. But they're not just wholly inadequate when you're really hurting - I agree they literally cause more damage. 

I grew up on phrases that were meant to dismiss, solve and (most of all) negate what I was feeling. There was no end to the greeting-card sentiment solutions, and they put an end to any depth or reason. Most of the time I felt I was dancing on broken legs but smiling was mandatory. It was supposed to be my "umbrella". Retch.

To this day, I am repulsed by the kind of cheap sentimentality that ruled my life and still pervades so much of our culture. The thin, cheery life-coach approach may indeed work for and inspire people who have never known the real depths of ongoing depression or trauma, but it's worse than vapid to those who live with terror. However well meant now, I think it actually re-traumatizes by reminding us of how swiftly and superficially our original problems were minimized. And we are just shamed all over again. 

To me, fear and self consciousness are the hallmarks of family related C-PTSD. The urge to retreat, give-up and hide overrule any natural impulses for momentum. The evil twins of powerlessness & hopelessness pervade every plan, every hope. Perversely, they feel safer and more familiar. The more we think of being happy and right with the world,  the less possible it seems -- even once we understand we'd we better off doing something/anything.

Meditation has worked wonderfully well for me at times, but practicing it still requires a modicum of optimism and self discipline and I cannot summon it when serious depression hits.

Hands down, the best period of my life came when I went out every single day and walked for about 20 minutes. I did it very early in the morning, and that helped to minimize my worries. I bathed, dressed and got outside before I could talk myself out of it. After that, the world itself didn't seem so threatening. I took pride in the achievement, small as it was. I found just putting on my shoes made it easier. Start small, all the best things come from that. Shout down your monsters or tell them you'll be back later.

I came across something a while back that was incredibly helpful to me in understanding the "brainwashing" that went on in my family. This wasn't necessarily the intentional kind that results in power and control, but the kind that happens when your family teaches you, in implicit ways, that "hurtful actions" = "love".

....

Here's the transcript - http://freedomain.blogspot.com/2007/12/transcript-of-freedomain-radio-podcast.html
 

spryte! Thank you so much for this link. Though I have to admit some of his diversions seemed extreme to me, his core message -- that the apple that does not exist but the the child is coerced to agree it does -- struck me as brilliant, absolutely true and SO helpful. That's exactly how it was (and still is) for me. You buy into the lie or suffer the consequences.

I think what resonated most of all was the notion of virtue and morality:

The problem that power has is not with other people who want power, but rather with people who are moral.

Morality is the opposite of power. Morality is the opposite of dominance. Morality is the opposite of subjugation, or exploitation, because morality is all about finding what is common and true in the world – common to all human beings and true empirically and also biologically – and therefore it's not about subjugation, because it is creating one rule for everyone, and the only way that you can have subjugation or exploitation is if you create different rules for different people.
 
So much of my life has been spent trying to square my sense of what's ethical, good, right with the actual behavior (not the words) of my FOO. There's no apple.

Rain - what a GREAT post! Just wanted to say how helpful and true your remarks are. The voice may change, but the overriding tone of negativity, blame and condemnation (even doom) is how we can always recognize it. Sometimes even just a speck of mental disagreement, a tiny, internal squeak of objection or self-forgiveness can turn everything around. It's like an atrophied muscle we need to locate and strengthen.

No it's not psychotic, just the work of a good memory. I often think that's something we share. All those voices were real once and we didn't forget them or their messages.   

Sometimes it's my mother's voice with all her wounded outrage, sometimes my sister's condescending dismissals, sometimes even my dad's terrifying bellowing. Their exact words, the phrases and intonations that imprinted themselves so deeply they feel right there. I know about hissing - the insults & accusations that were so beneath contempt they didn't require much words. Drop that now, or about to strike.

My own critical voice is always the same, and it seems ageless. I was like an adult as a child (in my feelings of responsibility and effort) and a child as an adult (in my fearfulness and self-protection). The sound is someone punished and punishing, the voice of a doomed and despicable quitter who will disparage because that's what's expected.

The good self-talk is here and now. The voice is mine completely. It can be fleeting, but it is pure oxygen when I am suffocating with ruminations. It reminds me we can only move from the place we find ourselves. There's no undoing the past.

The dreams always feature a man who will kill me, who is in no hurry, who isn't scared of me finding him or confronting him.  He will always kill me by choking me.  I have never seen him but I have come close to seeing him, and I know what he's there for.  It's horrible.

oh rtfm! I had only one almost exactly dream like this, a few years ago, not long after I went NC. It's still vivid, and still makes me shiver. My murderer was a young drifter serial killer who'd wandered in with his followers who looked as he slowly, methodically stabbed me in bed. They didn't know me or care, they were all lethally calm, amused, curious, weirdly detached. I fought until I realized there was no escape, no hope. Waking up hardly helped.

But I do have frequent recurrent nightmares on the theme of "forgetting" (for lack of a better word). In them, I suddenly remember that I have left a beloved pet, even a baby, alone in my old first apartment...for month or years. I've forgotten to feed them, water them, care for them for weeks, months, even years. I rush there, heart thumping, racked with fear and indescribable guilt. They are always alive, but just barely. Enough to hold, to say goodbye. All I can think is "I've done this, me, and there's no excuse." I should die too.

I know the standard interpretation of dreams is that everyone in them is some aspect of yourself. And that makes some sense given my history. But 'standard' doesn't always apply when you were weaned on the premise that your parent's well-being (read: survival) was your responsibility.

These are chronic stressors, made worse somehow by being self-generated. As if we have a choice. But they're clues too, I don't doubt that. I hold fast to the idea that they are telling and teaching, and most of all not true. Thoughts will not kill me. I used to think my mother wanted to, but I'm still here.

There's a quote in the site "Understanding Complex Trauma, Complex Reactions, and Treatment Approaches" listed in articles (http://giftfromwithin.org/html/cptsd-understanding-treatment.html) that absolutely shook me:

Of note, many of the major characteristics resemble the symptom picture of emotional lability, relational instability, impulsivity, unstable self-structuresense of self, and self-harm tendencies most associated with borderline personality disorder (BPD; American Psychiatric Association, 1994). The BPD diagnosis has carried enormous stigma in the treatment community where it continues to be applied predominantly to women clients in a pejorative way, usually signifying that they are irrational and beyond help.

In many years of treatment, no doctor or T ever diagnosed me with a PD, though I often worried and asked. I'd been depressed since 10, but then major depression, panic attacks and self-harming overtook me and ended my career and I entered the world of MDs as opposed to therapists. Even then, it was about how dysfunctional and far-reaching my early life had been. How old survival techniques had mutated into what they called maladaptive behavior.

My mother and sister displayed (and still do) extreme, consistent and pervasive PD behaviors...but never wanted, "needed" or sought help. There was never any acknowledgement of irrationality or cruelty, everything was masked or absolved. Everything could be blamed on others. They are dishonest to their core, which I don't think they can help. But I was & am considered the over-sensitive, problematic one. Because agoraphobia played a huge role throughout my life, some symptoms of Avoidant PD were discussed, but given the social threats I grew up with, CPTSD has always provided the clearest explanation.

Then I got involved in a civil lawsuit, and was forced to endure an evaluation. Guess what? Borderline. Born that way. Irresponsible, manipulative and guilty. Also: incurable. This is the "N"-word of psychiatry.  It has been a nightmare of indescribable proportions and is still ongoing.

Thank you for the welcome, Kizzie...and for creating this remarkable site. It may take me a while to open up, but please know just how vital and timely it is for me.

Butterfly, these dreams are coins of the realm. We may change addresses, but unconscious we can still inhabit old haunts. And I agree with Kizzie, yours was remarkably iconic. But however imperfectly we try to flee, the fleeing is what counts. You make shake remembering, but never forget there always was and forever will be a big part of you that knew you needed to escape. That's the sweet take away - your innate fear that signaled awareness, and your courage in the face of overwhelming circumstances.

No one would judge you for availing yourself of help that's available, you could use, and you are legitimately entitled to. No one, save those inner and real-life critics who've undermined you all along. You're not gaming the system: it's one of the few, slender safety nets designed to make life just a bit easier. And that kind of help (a little respite from constant financial worry) could make a huge difference in your current outlook and ultimate recovery.

We are forever self-punishing, seeing our problems as moral weakness instead of the very real result of inflicted damage. Not hard to think how that developed...but very hard to think otherwise, at least deep down. Listen, I think you should apply. I believe there are agencies that will help, and that if you are granted SS Disability you are eligible for Medicare. Alas, there's no help for all those good T's who don't accept insurance.

Hi Butterfly, I'm new to this board (but not the ravages of c-pstd). I get those kind of nightmares rarely, but when they come they can feel genuinely life-threatening, and the aftereffects linger for days.

Even for good ole normal neuroses, dreams play a huge part in helping us understand our own subconscious. I believe people like us are always processing, always trying to escape, or come to terms, or prove ourselves or self-punish again and again. In real life we have separated (or at least seen the need to), but sometimes our unguarded brains still get caught up in the drama.

When I was a toddler, I had pretty constant falling dreams...and then frequently fell out of bed hurting myself. The doctor came often. Now my nightmares are all variations on the same theme -- and they paralyze me with horror and shame. Talk about it. Remind yourself that thoughts are not facts. And above all, see them for what they really are: the last vestiges of how you were trained to think about yourself...and how you fought back.