My journey so far

[Little2Nothing]

Armee, my resistance is beginning to wane. My T has been patiently working with me to help me connect with my past hurts. I am learning how effective these exercises are and the benefit I derive from them.

NK, I think everything is distorted for those who have experienced significant trauma. It's hard to determine what normal might actually look like. Finding some way to distract the little rascal isn't a bad idea at all.  

Chart, thanks for the hugs!

Thinking more about the holiday blues. I think that the extreme contrast between the idealized Christmas and the reality in my home as a child made the longing for soundness even more intense. I lived in a bubble of unkindness, violence, and sheer terror. Christmas was never a happy time. That was my reality. Everything else around me told me that I was abnormal. My holidays never resembled the Currier and Ives ideal. A hallmark moment in our home was when someone didn't wind up in the hospital.

Every song spoke of happiness, joy and peace. The music was sentimental and left a lingering sense of longing. Now, I don't know how many people felt the same as me. I'm sure there are plenty. TV shows always had some astoundingly touching Christmas story. Some miracle occurred, some need was always met. The message was that Christmas produced miracles. Everything bad became good. 

As a kid I was on the outside looking in. I never had a Christmas miracle, no happy music, no sentimental reunions, everything I experienced was the exact opposite of that. The happenings at Christmas were no different than the rest of the year, but during the rest of the year I was not bombarded with promises of miracles and happy endings. As a child I believed the stories, or at least intensely longed for them. 

Those feelings of loss precipitated by the season were profound. At no other time of the year did I experience that compounded loneliness. That sense of loss stays with me along with the memories, fear, and sadness. I may never rise above this, but I believe it can get better. I'm not living there anymore, though someone forgot to tell that to the part of me that suffers this time of year. 

[Hope67]

I do want to report that I have been making good progress in relation to my cptsd. The EMDR seems to help even if it seems it shouldn't. I find myself less apt to lose my patience, though at times it is a struggle. The feelings of aloneness are less frequent, but not less disturbing when they come.

The aloneness has been a consistent part of my life. Though I can now shake myself out of it on occasion it wins more than not. I am grateful for the progress. There is so much damage that has to be undone. I have to keep reminding myself that healing is a process. It takes time.

Hi Little2Nothing,
I am just catching up with your journal, and it was so lovely to read your progress here - I wanted to cheer you  because it is heart-warming to hear.  I agree with you that healing is a process that takes time, but hearing you speak of the things you're achieving, it's very inspiring to hear.

Sending you a hug 

[Chart]

Thank you so much for sharing that, Little2. It touched me very deeply. I have much I wish to say but no time right now. I hope to respond tonight. In the meantime I send love and support.
 

[Little2Nothing]

Hope, thank you for the encouragement.  

Chart, I'm looking forward to your comments 

[Chart]

Thinking more about the holiday blues. I think that the extreme contrast between the idealized Christmas and the reality in my home as a child made the longing for soundness even more intense. I lived in a bubble of unkindness, violence, and sheer terror. Christmas was never a happy time. That was my reality. Everything else around me told me that I was abnormal. My holidays never resembled the Currier and Ives ideal. A hallmark moment in our home was when someone didn't wind up in the hospital.

Every song spoke of happiness, joy and peace. The music was sentimental and left a lingering sense of longing. Now, I don't know how many people felt the same as me. I'm sure there are plenty. TV shows always had some astoundingly touching Christmas story. Some miracle occurred, some need was always met. The message was that Christmas produced miracles. Everything bad became good.

As a kid I was on the outside looking in. I never had a Christmas miracle, no happy music, no sentimental reunions, everything I experienced was the exact opposite of that. The happenings at Christmas were no different than the rest of the year, but during the rest of the year I was not bombarded with promises of miracles and happy endings. As a child I believed the stories, or at least intensely longed for them.

Those feelings of loss precipitated by the season were profound. At no other time of the year did I experience that compounded loneliness. That sense of loss stays with me along with the memories, fear, and sadness. I may never rise above this, but I believe it can get better. I'm not living there anymore, though someone forgot to tell that to the part of me that suffers this time of year.

Little2, I believe you are mourning. This sadness is the child that was never allowed to be a child, that had to grow up fast, stay awake and aware, always be on guard to survive another day. That loss is what comes back every holiday season. Your post broke me up. I literally wept for fifteen minutes. I know now that my first four years of life were like this, constant terror, periods of peace and calm lasting not more than three or four days. I still have no memories, real, solid, of that period. But when I read someone else's history, when it resonates like that, I know that I had something like that. My pre-verbal trauma has been manifesting my entire life. But as of two years ago, I have entered into mourning. I have taken that inner child and I now hold him in my arms. Sometimes we cry together. I have to say, he doesn't want another childhood. He remembers only confusion. But what he does want, and what I've started giving him is Love. I feel what he feels. I know what he knows. But I also know more. I know we are deeply deeply wounded. And my way out, my savior, my happy ending... is tears. I cry now. I cry and cry and cry again. I hold nothing back. I find tears coming at least once per day. I cry while driving. I cry in public. I cry when I see, hear, feel something that resonates... and there is so much that resonates... A women carrying her child in her arms... A smile from a stranger... A memory that cuts into my thoughts like betrayed hope.

Little2, I do not believe our inner children want to change the past. I do not believe my inner child wants another childhood. My inner child wants MY love, MY recognition... Now, he wants and needs it now. The past is the past. Nothing can change those events, circumstances, memories. But NOW is something else, and the healing I'm finding is in tears. I mourn daily, and with each salty tear I feel a little lightness, a shift, a child that takes a deep breath after holding his anxiety for too long. I find release in the love I know is with "us" now.

I believe there is a happy ending. The happy ending is now, this moment, this family that I have. The sadness of the past needs it time to be seen, to be felt, to be acknowledged. But the miracle is there, it is coming. But I will not let the child I was cry alone any more. I look at him and tell him, I say to him, I speak to him... I know. I know what you went through... You are one tough little dude... But you don't have to be brave anymore. I'm here, I'm strong, I'm good. And we are one.
Hugs to your inner child, just like hugs to all your loved ones. The happy ending is coming. But it's not an ending, it is a beginning.