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Forgiveness will set you free...
Forgiving my perps ( I have 2) will somehow help me move on?

I see parents forgive their children's murderer....and yet I could never forgive the wrongs against me.  How do they forgive? Why does it help to let their monster know they are relieved of any and all guilt (that they never even felt) by the victim?  NO ABUSER DESERVES FORGIVENESS. NO ONE.

I can't understand why forgiveness has to be a part of healing. I don't have forgiveness in me...and so I'm a lesser person ( wow not like I don't feel that way anyway)

I want to SCREAM at every person spouting off the necessity of forgiveness right in their face.  The self righteous, all knowing, all healing power of forgiveness.    F#$% THAT.

I am angry and feel like cursing every word. Just the idea that forgiveness is a task I have to complete . All it feels like is me selling myself out. My soul was murdered before I had a chance at "normal" life so now I have to forgive That? What kind of CRAP is That?

I longed for the death of my first perp because I just knew I would feel some lift that he was not on this planet any longer. Imagine my surprise when the death only sunk me deeper. Imagine my surprise when I felt worse. Like he got away with an entire life of never being exposed and now he never will.

I just want to know if anyone else here can understand how upset the idea of forgiveness makes me. If forgiveness has helped You, truly than I am so happy for you! I just don't understand it. I know I will never forgive.

Hi woodsgnome
Your post caught my attention today

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from August 22, 2015, »

After all this journeying with EF's and triggers and all those labeled symptoms, it seems like there's only one true constant. It's what I call The Ache.

I've always felt there's a part of me being dragged around. It's irritating and I've tried all kinds of techniques, programs,  books, this/that/other in efforts to understand, diminish, get rid of The Ache, and it sticks like perma-glue.

As if it's saying, "you're stuck with me, kid. And I ain't goin' away." Then I rage and cry and that only seems to please this monster. But I have to live, so I travel on, whether The Ache is there or not. Not there? Wonder what that's like.

With or without a name, The Ache just stays and I can't shake it loose. I can be humming the happiest tune, walking in a peaceful forest, any place of joy or distraction; and the Ache is always there. I've begged it to leave. Nope. I've written its name on pieces of paper, even strips of bark, burned 'em, and it pops right back. The Ache has its own magical powers.

The Ache feels numb and heavy, and I cannot recall a time it wasn't present. I tell myself I accept that, as what else can I do? But I'm not sure I really believe that. Tamping down expectations seems helpful, but I'm so sad when I realize my only takeaway true friend remains The Ache.
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I just read your post and feel I could have written it myself. I feel so similar to your description. This is how I was able to describe it today.
The way I feel day after day is so exhausting. It goes like this:
Before my eyes open the instant I wake up the beast is there.
If I managed any sleep at all, it was hopelessly filled with horrible dreams.
As soon as I feel the beast, the rage sets in.  White hot rage. About the symptoms, all of them, about the cause, about the impact on my daily life of events (in my case) that I was not protected from.  The rage that this is never to be cured. Just coped with. The rage of knowing I have a chronic mental illness that I can never escape CAUSED to me NOT born in me. CAUSED to me.
Minute 2
The despair. Always the despair.
The grieving. The grief over my own living self. Mourning the loss of my self.
....and that is the end of everyday before it even begins so bring on depression for breakfast and anxiety until I drop from physical and emotional exhaustion into a dark sleepless night.

The way I feel day after day is so exhausting. It goes like this:
Before my eyes open the instant I wake up the beast is there.
If I managed any sleep at all, it was hopelessly filled with horrible dreams.
As soon as I feel the beast, the rage sets in.  White hot rage. About the symptoms, all of them, about the cause, about the impact on my daily life of events (in my case) that I was not protected from.  The rage that this is never to be cured. Just coped with. The rage of knowing I have a chronic mental illness that I can never escape CAUSED to me NOT born in me. CAUSED to me.
Minute 2
The despair. Always the despair.
The grieving. The grief over my own living self. Mourning the loss of my self.
....and that is the end of everyday before it even begins so bring on depression for breakfast and anxiety until I drop from physical and emotional exhaustion into a dark sleepless night.

Dear ah and sanmagic7,
Thank you for your messages. It brings me comfort to know that without even knowing me you both understand. I am in the lowest point I have ever been and from what I am learning , it's only going to get worse before it ( might- if ever  ) get better.

I feel so envious of people who escaped childhood without being preyed upon...I ALWAYS wonder how my life's trajectory would have went if I wasn't so severely screwed over at literally the beginning of my life. I never even had a chance to be an unencumbered, free spirited child...my soul was murdered at the outset.  My first memories of my life are of my abuse.  My first memories.
I read both of your messages and it is helpful to know that you understand- I mean on a visceral level- you understand exactly what I mean by grieving and mourning my own self even though I get up and walk around I am stuck as a confused, hurt, wounded, & betrayed little girl.  I only recently realized that what happened with both of my abusers that I was preyed upon. I of course believing my entire life these terrible things were my fault. I still feel nauseous ANY time I think of it ( which is all day everyday). I am at the beginning of what is to me an infinity of despair to get through and I just don't know what else to do but just I know at this point absolutely without a doubt that I cannot do this anymore on my own.  I have been hurt and confused by the lack of concern from my doctor ( ie husband goes in with back pain- next day he has xray, mri, referral to physio...I go in in complete crisis-weeping, overcome by symptoms  doctor coldly demands that I reveal my story, refers to female psychiatrist as I requested....2 MONTHS go by after several calls...I go into the office only to find that the psych rejected my referral MONTHS ago and it has just been sitting in limbo since with no-redirect. That was 2 years ago now. And my last straw at that time going through "getting help" on 3 different occasions only sunk me deeper and damaged me more.....aren't these people PAID to care about me???

Anyone with c-ptsd knows how this plays out...I turn away and dont allow the HELP to hurt me anymore...
Now I know that I need someone who specifically specialises in CPTSD and childhood trauma due to sexual abuse/incest Or be "trauma informed " because no one else speaks my language.  I need to be heard and not dismissed. You both gave me that and I am truly thankful to you, and send my deep compassion to you each for your specific tragedies against your sweet selves that caused us to be part of this group of people on Earth together. I will take a hug and send one back ( if you want one) otherwise, just know I see you too.

I am in a loving marriage that has reached its breaking point and my husband is about to leave me, he threatens it every time we fight.
In our most recent fight he actually said to me he wished he could put a gun in his mouth and blow him self away to get away from me (2 days ago). This is after I have told him I am beginning to have suicidal thoughts....this disease is putting it into my mind as the only true way to escape the torture I am in.
In calmer moments after outrageous fights he tells me all the right things but every time we fight it's the same old thing...him rejecting my feelings and thoughts, saying I'm crazy, and attacking me for being crippled with this. I feel like I am constantly kicking and screaming and feeling like a small child begging him to notice that this is real and it's killing me.  He is just burdened by this and looking for a way out.

He knew I was sexually abused before we were married. This is not something he didn't know when he said "in sickness and in health"

My heart just aches to have one person understand me.  He is the only person who pretends to care yet crushes my soul every time * gets real. I don't feel safe I feel like I have to hide this from him and it's enraging that on good days he just takes and takes and takes...pretending nothing is wrong and then as soon as I am symptomatic he says every worst possible thing to me to kill my spirit over and over.   

I did not ask for this, I did not ask for my 4 year old body to be casually put in the care of my own mothers abuser with the disclaimer "I never thought he would do it to you", I never asked for my father to sit back and allow me to be carelessly put into the hands of a known monster without stopping her. I did not ask to have my older brother continue the incest and take everything from my ten year old body.

I did not ask for the birth of my first child at 29 years old to open the flood gates on my past and for the birth of my daughter to put me into a literal constant triggered state because I can't see anything but how my parents could put something so precious in the hands of a monster.  I look at her and i see myself and my innocence and my heart breaks over and over every day.

I can't accept that I wasn't worth being protected, I was actually handed over to him to repeat the cycle.
Being a mother myself has only brought into glaring focus the absolute never ending rage I feel as the lack of protection from my parents literally caused the turmoil that is my life today.

It wasn't until I googled "I feel like I'm mourning the death of myself" that I was finally introduced to my living nightmare with 100s of hits on
Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.