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Your title -- "Lost Child" -- really says it perfectly, as does the other points reflected in your heartfelt words.

Yes, there are ups and downs, and lots of platitudes along the way. Yet none of that seems to work, other than in brief nudges maybe. The original wounds never seem to wholly disappear, but some of us are able to find some openings in our broken hearts, too. That it can take so long -- yeah, frustrating.

I'm babbling away now, a sad trait I easily fall into (prob a remnant of all the decades when no one listened, understood, or even wanted to. Thank you for bringing it all back to that strong heart you displayed for us all in this beautiful poem.

 

Good deal, Blueberry!     

I strongly resonated with what you've expressed here. As a practical matter, I somehow discovered that I could (secretly, of course) treat the people (FOO, teachers, clergy) with the buffoons they portrayed on a daily basis.

That inner humour may not have eased entirely the decades of pain and angst from my experiences with them, but I'm so grateful I somehow/someway always found even the tiniest shreds of laughter, even as I had to hide it from them. BUT it was probably the best item in my survival tookit and I feel it was almost the only way I found make sense out of nonsense.

It helped me to accept that, however and why these things ever happened, I and they were riding on the wrong bus. Some of this was extreme -- it was only recently, for instance, that I remembered something about the m that brought an outburst of hilarity on my part. She was the last and only one I could never find anything even vaguely resembling humour, but whatever it was it happened and, as you noted, it felt good to feel that laughter finally emerge.

On the one hand, none of what those folks were about merits humour, as it never made any sense either. It wasn't really funny, but was and is, totally absurd. It was then, and still is. Ah, but absurdity is one of the pillars of honest humour. It can save, if nothing else does. It's also one of the best surprises one can discover for surving. 

Hiya, BeHealthy/Lakelynn.

I fall into the 'vintage' (geezer?) category as well. Though my contributions have tailed off dramatically, I still maintain perusing what's going on with OOTS.

Long story short, I've been blending all that I learned here with ongoing 'formal' therapy and lots of 'Bibliotherapy' (extensive reading). The short story is that I've landed in a different place, starting with a good dose of attitudinal healing.

Except this isn't the place for the long story, so I'll just exit and wish you all the best as you trek back into the wilderness known as OOTS.

 

I go way back on this forum, and originally there were just a tiny handful of journals on here. I had one for a while but I've always had other (paper, then via 'files' kept on PC; quite voluminous, btw). My own prob with an online journal is just the many nuances and special circumstances which might require tedious explanations per the 'why' of some things, esp. events that are very individual.

I've only discussed the presence of the forum to a couple of people (I only know a couple anyway). To my own surprise, little details of my rather unique background could, and did, leak on here whether in the short-lived journal or just in the back-and-forth commentaries of a variety of posts. I'm very careful with info anyway, as I've never gotten away from trust issues with anybody. EXCEPT on here, where the participants have also 'walked the talk', as it were.

I can certainly understand the privacy option, but I also feel it rather defeats the idea of the forum itself. At first I was hesitant to even look others' journals -- it almost felt like prying into someone else's affairs. The counter to that, though, is that the site-forum also exists as a learning platform, from which participating members can and do share and learn from even the unique twists some other people courageously choose to open up about.

Remember, the key seems to involve being coy about one's precise location, as much as possible. It's also why we've all chosen unique idendities for this member's forum. The general public, per my understanding, cannot access anyone's material without 1)becoming a member themselves and 2)knowing your moniker as well. So there's at least that safeguard in place.

Interestingly, at the start the journals were few and far between, and even came with a hint in the guidelines that there may not even be much commentary. As was also noted, even if one was careful, their viewpoints were still evident via the journals content and other items posted by any one of us.

I had the good fortune to literally get away from the early people (FOO and their crowd), albeit I ran into bothersome sorts all along this scary ride called cptsd. Always careful, mind you, but also more and more willing to open up about some of the good things, too. Mine is a story with deep pain, but after many years of therapy as well as this site/forum, I've found the trek less perilous. Finding the 'right' sort of people that seem trustworthy, such as those of you reading this essay -- sorry, I meant to keep it brief but when the words start flowing, ya know what can happen.

One other minor detail per the journals -- as a bit of an information-seeker, there often are nuggets of info (books, conferences, articles, etc) which people include in their journals which I've often found very helpful. There are other categories in which these can be shared, but sometimes they only appear in someone's journal,

These are just a few observations (stop me while you can!) of a vet at perusing this site/forum's incredibly rich materials. The public/private issue here is paramount, though, and I can see the hazards that come with it.

                   

Sometimes we're gung-ho about the next step; then the next step seems to recede further into just a distant mirage. We can't believe we're really good enough, that really venturing forth is only another dream, and we don't deserve the full ride to the new life. Those old stories of unworthiness are hard to eradicate.

So I feel that the key might be self-acceptance, as in accepting ALL of what you've been through, but also realizing that you're not just capable, but presently on the new path, even if you can't discern a grand reason for your change. Sometimes it just flows. Over-thinking it all can also keep us tethered to the old story, forever waiting for the magic leap forward. That might indeed show up, but probably not on a grand explosive moment; but the self-acceptance might help more than it seems it should, as we're not used to that.

These are only thoughts that floated through as I read your post. None of this construes actual advice, but is just a gut reaction which I hope can find some resonance with your freah outlook into the new space which has opened for you (and which you have created).

The inner critic seems crucial but difficult to deal with. Here's my current take.

I envision the brain as a sort of inner room. Which means I can redecorate it to suit my needs!

While I've tried the "shut up" command with some success per my T's suggestion some time ago I recently changed tactics a bit per considering the brain to be a separate room; and a place where the icr loves to hang out, a sort of unwanted permanent co-resident, so to speak.

So in redesigning the space, I visualized it as a real room and decided it might work to confine the icr to a closet in the mind's room.

Seemed good, until I still felt uncomfortable about it. So -- I decided to build the icr its very own, and very separate, room. The icr loves to feel important, and having, at last, his own room -- wow, it makes him special, and not some pesky irritant. Remember, we're talking visualization and imagination here.

In addition to his own room, I fitted it up like a home theatre, complete with films of my old life, the one he loved to denigrate and make me feel bad about. So key to the theatre are all those old films, plus scrapbooks and items like my old journals which were filled with the downside of cptsd -- anger, shame, self-depredation, deep depression, even touching on years when I teetered on the edge of staying alive when all felt so hopeless. Of course the icr loved every minute, but with the new room all his own, wow -- he loves it.

So that's my present modus operandi shoo him off to his special room where he can be as cozy, sinister, and smug about 'poor me' as he wants; and not ever emerge for a dearth of his sort of entertainment.

I know. It's all so 'unreal,' right? Well, doesn't seem unreal when one considers the other 'reality' of living with the lifelong hazards around cptsd, all of which has seemed more real than anything. So creating 'his' own space and stocking it with items he'll love having at least gives me a creative space of my own -- my own mind's room designed with regard for my own needs to distance myself from the icr character.

My mind's room feels more peaceful minus his yapping. 


 

Hey, NarcKiddo; I closely identify with what you've shared here, among your semi-'secret' friends group still adjusting to our time out of the storm.

The trust factor is HUGE for me. I desperately sought out people to trust and almost all didn't feel right in the end. From minor misunderstandings to major catastrophes with dangerous narcissists, I found myself confused, and sometimes badly hurt. I think I still want to trust but it seems a very distant possibility given my present life.

Mind you, that life has become near total isolation from direct contact with people anymore. Even a phone call has to be carefully considered before it seems like a safe venture for me.

Yet I'm not forlorn about this, definietly not as much as I used to lament my circumstance(s)
. It's just the inner critic's game to make me guilty about devising a life style in which I can feel safe. This isn't what other people might choose (though some definitely would), but it's all part of my acceptance (NOT the same as tolerance for what was done to me).

In reference to your bringing this up, secrets have been very okay for me; given some disastrous results of some times I let my guard relax a bit, in my constant search for finding trust out there in a world I'm very curious about, but also too scared by some things that went terribly wrong in that search for trust.

Along the way I've at least encountered new ways and vibes by which to trust (even love?) my inner self better than I once did. It's taken a long, long while to come to this but one of my better qualities just might be this patience and openness to surprises. Meanwhile, I've many secrets held with very good reason. I -- and you -- are not at all alone in this.

So, take heart; we're all striving as best we can with the cards we've been dealt. It still seems like emerging from a deep chasm, but guess what -- that's what it is. Take care of yourself; I hope this can help -- 

No big deal, but I've noticed a few members now have a letter ID under their name -- One I think is NG plus there's a couple others.

Do these indicate moderators or something to do with administrating the site?

Just curious; haven't run across any explanation of what these initials indicate.  ...

Dear GC,

For a wordless horror, the words you chose here to try and dissolve a tiny bit of the pain, was an incredibly powerful statement of the strength and beauty of your being.

It's a very lonely trail, but knowing you're here speaks to the hope we all are desperate to attain.

I don't have any adequate words, just en-courage-ment to stay on course; towards the new life you are now crafting for yourself.

Hello.

This, and what gcjo7a related about SA, is awful, yet also jives with my own story. Much of my life has seen all the inner battles of horror, doubt, and working with what's inconceivable -- almost beyond the pale of endurance. The only rules of thumb is that what happened was and is still senseless, a theft of human dignity and, most of all, a mutilation of love, making it almost impossible to ever know or realistically relate to it; SA is a haunting that collapses one's sense of finding peace. Yet we try, consigned to wonder what love must be like.

So here we are, literally with no pieces to pick up (or would want to). I well remember one T (not my current one) 'assigning' me to find a loving moment(s) in the m relationship. My result, after wracking my brain for some such memory -- zilch. I can't begin to describe this, as you found as well; there's just no way to describe the total depravity and shame that characterizes the perpetual grief and defeated feelings.

I've dabbled lots in my private journals, but no more. I decided I have to live now, and put the old story into the shredder. Guess what? There's no shredder that totally obliterates the awful memories, but at least one can try, and comfort myself with this metaphor -- I'm driving, can't stop frequently perusing the rear-view mirror, and noticing -- the scary stuff is shrinking further into the distance. Once in a while rusty chains appear along the roadside -- with heavy bolt-cutters. I know -- some would call that silly; but that sort of thing -- the unreality of it, somehow assuages the unreality of what originally was so wrong.

Sorry for the rant. It can, and has, go much deeper. I relay it only as a way to somehow convey empathy with how you must feel, and how hard -- yet movingly -- you're entering onto a new road, away from the wounds and into a land of healing.

Well put, NarcKiddo.  It's interesting how your self-expectations didn't pan out as you feared might happen, and was able to relax enough to find an honest outlook.

What you said also speaks to the joy of finding a T who can truly be there, present for you and aware of your needs. Reminds me of my own T in that way; sometimes I just wanted to let her tell me what to do, but she never fell for it -- trusted me enough to know I had the capacity to find my own way forward.

it's good to see you, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to find more of the good kind of surprise in store as you venture past all those old self-defeating habits and beliefs that hold us back from finding our way again.

Great that your trail has led you to this spot -- hope it's the beginning of that new outlook you've been eager to find.

Love your description of needing to 'unlearn' aa you begin to deconstruct the false life you've felt has dragged you down for so long.

Let the unlearning continue! 

For sure, I'm not new here, but I fully relate to all you're saying and what's pulling you onwards to post even more.

It's simple -- this forum is such a unique and freeing place to have discovered. With no where else to turn to, it becomes one of the few options where you (us) can feel free enough to explore what can't be covered in many other ways.

So, first, no need to feel out of sorts about posting. It is scary, for sure. But look around -- here you can at last trust that the people you're interacting with 'get it.' We've all endured the pain, but also the hope, of working (and playing) to find ways to unburden the tensions which never asked for but are here nonetheless.

In my own case, I have run into difficulties, but also realized I survived the old, and now am free to live with a new story that understands the yo-yo effect following such deep trauma(s) across a wide span of years. Two words stand out for me describing the 'why' of how I've even made it this far (so much more to go). Those two words -- DEPTH and RESILIENCE. That's where this web/forum has provided many ways to find some way to begin moving past the old into the new.

Just wanted to share an outlook, from someone who relates to your story and your reactions to finding freedom in your own being. 

Coming off of years (decades really) of digging and probing all the possible causes behind many aspects of the trauma(s) I seem to have survived, I've arrive at only one conclusion: None of what was done made any sense, then or now.

So it's natural to probe and prod in the search for the 'why' of it all. Definitive answers can't justify any of it, as it involves violation of human decency. Which isn't to say I'm still not
curious as to how it happened; just not as gung ho on feeling relief from what might be found.

This involved a decision a few years back, one that still percolates in its forceful effects. That is -- having given up on finding any sensible cause for all of this pain, grief, and devastation, I'm still prone to many tears, and then continue as best as I can to make sense on my terms. Healing from within has been my greatest discovery; the outside story doesn't matter so much, or at least isn't as dominant as it once was.

Those inside vibes focus on simple things I can do now -- -- peace with myself, love of the life I have post-abuse, and continuing the quest to feel good about myself in everything I do. But it can still return to deeply grieving what took place over those decades, and how none of it, in the final analysis, made any sense.

I hope I'm understood. It sounds hopeful, but many are the days on which any optimism feels more like fog than clear sky. But here's a bit of 'wishcraft' for finding relief from the aspect so many of us fall short of realizing -- that we're  alright, just as we are.   

Hi, Unfinisheds24  . Sorry for the circumstances which led to your current reluctant acceptance that something feels off; on the other hand it's encouraging that by your presence here, you're also determined to make your life work for you  .

May your jouneying here help create and enhance moving beyond a big step out of the 'old' you. The big step? Joining this forum, willing to venture as far away from the troubled past as you can in order to see better prospects ahead.