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A Place To Speak

greycrayon

Learning
Im avoiding phoning the samaritans I'm not sure I can take their silences and asks for descriptions on how I feel. I dont know how I feel, thats why I'm smearing blood everywhere I want to leave a trail leading to a murder scene and then finally someone will take me seriously instead of looking at the pretty talented outside.

It wouldnt be an exaggeration that I would rather be dead but I dont know why. So much is hidden from me that I cant see for my own good. The only lead I have is a pre verbal child smearing thick bloody handprints everywhere. I try not to despise her, the mess and chaos that she has brought to my life because she has no choice. For her, it is either do this or die and I dont know how long I can carry on. I say its humiliating to me but my life beforehand has been humiliating to her, trying to develop and carrying around this.

Moving to a settled place, the fatigue is going but the flashbacks and nightmares are coming on, inside I am very mentally disturbed and I have a right to be after what ever happened. I feel the pressure to keep it in whilst everything inside of me is screaming to be heard, and that's what people will hear a scream and more.
 
I was never really sure, I was in therapy for four years and in those four years I would paint the same thing again and again compulsively, but at the time in detachment so we could never get to the real reason. It would feel very real then completely not real. Most art therapists would say anger, and there was that, but for me it was more...there was an actual (fleeting)memory with that much blood. Like I've died or was murdered (but I fully realize that I'm typing this alive, so it doesn't really make sense)

I probably need to write things down so for when I try and dismiss them. Its getting harder and harder to dismiss that I'm quite mentally disturbed and its affected me my whole life. Thanks for commenting!
 
@greycrayon ....Did you know that there are ritual deaths and even re-birth rituals in some of these secretive groups? So, maybe you did go through a ritual death.

Perhaps Art therapy wasn't enough for you to gain a complete understanding of your past.

There are trauma specialist who understand ritual abuse, cult abuse, and D.I.D., perhaps if you found one they could help.

http://ra-info.org/faqs/ will help explain about ritual abuse.

There are many members here who have D.I.D from ritual/cult abuse, no doubt they will be glad to help you.:hug:
 
Had a bad 'floating' day. Inner critic will shout and battle over the smallest things, what colour of paint I use, how I use it, cant envision a life without being talented and recognised as talented. Thinking about how this PTSD has/will appear, its a slow burner. Thinking about the possibility that I may been brainwashed down to the details of hobbies, dislikes and preferences, many things oscilate between very real then very unreal. I feel like a blank space for many oncoming and leaving tides. Possible repressed memories about my dad ( who could pay for my therapy) being aggressive towards me, one flashback about bring thrown onto the bed in a nappy and being threatened to be beaten with a whip. My identity is coming apart at the seams.
 
Have had a lot of realizations about my family, every time I read about someone going through emotional abuse, I know that I am thinking of my father. The pouting, the glaring, the tantrums at anyone trying to connect with him emotionally, the lot of it. And my mother, putting up with it all these years, passing on messages as an owl, saying that its not his fault, he just doesn't understand. Its the same dynamic as my ex, I can feel the same feelings, know whats coming next. I no longer trust my parents, I only trust that they will be encircled in this, and I have to know that it was always like this and I dont remember anything different. Even typing this it becomes true.

My gut instinct is that some of my repressed memories involve my father and that in order to heal I have to break from his behaviour to create a safe place where those memories can come up. When I see him and talk to him, I have to be the good girl and he's not equipped to see and interact with anything else.

I hate this, I hate that because of our Christianness I'm supposed to take shit and keep on taking shit. I don't know who I am anymore...now that I'm an adult and I can supposedly do what I want
 
Had a good cry last night. I feel that my parents have utterly left me and the shame of being 30 six months away and I'm still trying to cope with teenage type decisions are hitting me hard. It occurs to me that I don't have a touch base..or rather I do but He's one of the main ones I keep away from because most of my life I've tried to be one kind of person before him and its exhausting. What if what I really want is to party and have sexual encounters, starting up relationships and saying goodbye to them. How do I rebel when rebellion is witchcraft?

I don't have to be the achievement winner, I could just stay in bed all day and party at night?
 
I'm so torn up inside. Inner child wants to go out and be free to party and so many things that I don't know how to parent her through and I'm putting it on her being rebellious and selfish when in reality she does know what is good for her. I dont know how to trust and not be in control, I don't know how people choose that how they actually find that a safe, relaxing experience. I just panic when I think about all the things open to me and having to choose out of all of them. It was all about the future, cause and effect, eternal consequences, people going to hell, it was never I feel____ so I went and did it. The whole world was on my shoulders.
 
Feeling low this night, just low, down, blue, emotions that seem to hit me from out of nowhere. Its creeping in that I'm saying goodbye to my parents and wanting to live my life but before that I've got to grieve the one before. I don't know how, how does one grieve a blurry distant thirty years. It was so normal but now its only now that its sudden and I'm starting to find real reasons as to why I cant just do the things that people my age find easy. I wish I had parents. I wish someone would sit by me in bed and stroke my hair until I drift off to sleep. I'm so exhausted by living.
 
@greycrayon :hug:

If i may interject....you are doing VERY good processing work here!
Very deep!

I find that I grieve more the emotions...the loss...the emptiness...than the specific memories of incidents.

The emotional abandonment you feel is very very profound...let yourself stroke your own hair in that moment...let yourself try to give to yourself what your(total failure of your parents) parents did not give you.

They failed you completely. Mine did too.

Now we must learn to meet our own needs....learn how to self-soothe, etc...

Soooooooooooooo very hard, ik.

Peace to you.:hug:
 
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