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Has CSA cPTSD made you abusive

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Are you a needler? Do you "give them the needle?". Who me? My old jiu-jitsu coach used to say "girls fight with words"

One of our old friends, another trauma case naturally, who drives me insane with her symptoms. I didn't know any of this before trauma therapy. Her brother told me once, "Everything would be fine we'd all be together, the family, and Jane would come in and in 5 minutes we'd all be at each other's throats. She got everybody going."

I've known Jane (not her name) all these years. She'd never admit she was doing this. She does though.

A troublemaker.

I avoid people mostly.
 
It has made me verbally abusive at times. I think it's the rage and anger that I never expressed during my abuse. The ptsd rage and anger.
 
This is true. In a bad state, I've verbally snapped at people that I've been forced to be around. Now I isolate away from other people because it's extremely annoying just to be near anyone or hear them talk. Isolation isn't really a viable or long term solution but at least I'm not fighting with other people and embarrassing myself.
I'm not sure what it is about PTSD that causes one to completely cut people off for periods of time. I would say this probably seems abusive to the few people that care about me. I'm sure it comes off as a passive agressive way of me showing my disapproval of them or like a big "silent treatment" but that's really not it. Sometimes, I can hardly stand going to the bank or the store and by the time I get the shopping done I want to right hook the first person that gets close to me.
Substance abuse/SI/food just makes the isolating easier and worse because you keep yourself in a cycle of feeling like dogshit when you're already low.


I feel your comment.
I never got to express myself in a household of aggressive, volatile individuals with victim complexes.
All my family members are so quick to judge, to point fingers and to get in a fight, and so easily offended and provoked. It was like living in close proximity to boxes of fireworks and a naked flame. The house was regularly an irrational, top of the lungs screaming chorus, daily.
I was also bullied at school and sexual abused as a child (although the memories are sketchy and I’ve never told my family) I was so introverted to the point in which I could not cope.

Now I am out spoken because I feel that if I do not regularly express myself, it all gets ‘clogged up’ like nervous/emotional constipation.
I regularly feel like I’m going to explode and punch some one or run or punch a wall.
I suddenly become overwhelmed with a vast sense of dread, panic, and frustration to the point in which I can not make sentences and breathe properly.
I have relentless muscular pain from being tense to the point in which I have become naturally very muscular although a curvy woman. I jump at the smallest movement in my peripheral vision or any sudden sounds, no matter how small.
My back looks like a body builders’ and my forearms and biceps are well developed. I also suffer from upset stomach or constupation daily no matter how healthy my diet is.
I become angry to an out-of-control level within seconds, especially with inanimate objects if they dont do what I want them to or they get in way.
I can FEEL the anger is stemming from being in a constant state of hyper vigilance.
Like waiting for the gun to go off at the start for a race that never begins. The apprehension of an event where I need all my wit, strength and skill always feels moments away. Like a spring loaded trap waiting to go off, the hinge eventually rusts and wains, causing it to malfunction and snap, becoming more and more unpredictable.
Recognising the anger definitely feels like the first step to recovery. Mindfullness and being aware is a milestone.
Taking myself out of stressful situations in the first place might feel like I’m just ‘avoiding the situation in which I lose my sh!t (excuse my language), but it means you get the chance to practice disarming yourself but in a less intense environment, so on a more manageable level.
Sometimes I find trying to practice retraining my ability to express and control my emotions, can get worse if it’s just too much, as it just magnifies the problem rather than neutralising it.
I really need therapy but I can’t afford it.
My issues are so complex I’m worried the NHS version isnt going to be thorough and good quality and that i will be left in pieces, half unravelled. I REALLY NEED A TOP END EXPERT because I’ve got a neurological disorder to boot :(
 
The therapist was talking with me about self loathing and I know it's tied together with this. I have to be so careful not to start being abusive. It's self abuse though in the end. It looks like it's directed outwardly but it's not. The stuff I put out on others is me getting me. Feel friendly, warm or neutral just don't be directing those bad feelings out towards others because they just give it back.
Smiling is incredibly effective I just can't force myself to do it mostly. I think it makes me feel unsafe but the opposite is probably true. There is bad stuff inside still where those feelings are.
 
I am having to deal with this because I have to talk to the doctors and medical personnel. I know even if I'm make a conscious effort someone might still think "why'd he say it like that."
I feel awful about this because I want to be in control of everything I say and how it sounds and I know I'm not.
It's really hard to control because I don't know how it feels? I wish I could video log myself and go back and watch so I could see how I was feeling/acting and put it together. I doubt I could watch even if it were possible. I can't even listen to a recording of my voice. : )
 
So I wrote a poem about repeating the cycle:

On a Denny's Napkin
I wrote a poem to you once
because you
visited me in jail
In the mental hospital
Even the halfway house

I made something of my life
as broken as I was am
I feel felt grateful

But I've always been confused

You beat me
You beat my mother black and blue

You piece of shit

I was in my 40's when my defenses
of denial and suppressed memory let me see
that she didn't run into a clothesline pole
that night --like you said
Your fists made the fat lips and raccoon eyes
staring fearfully back at me that traumatic morning
when I brought you breakfast in bed
I was 9

My sister says you beat me--too
with a belt buckle
on the side of the road
but I don't remember any pain
just my sisters screaming at you to stop
They were traumatized
I never thought it was that bad
You knocked me down in the mud
and nearly busted my nose
when I was 10
You threw a cowboy boot at me
You threw a can of orange juice--weird
and probably worse things
buried in my subconscious

So
I beg my son's forgiveness
every time I see him

--for being like you.

All I've ever wanted needed is
to sort it all out
figure out what happened
because there's still this kid in me
that needs protected
and I'm almost sixty
I don't want to go to the grave
this confused broken child
who doesn't trust his own feelings

But I wrote a poem to you once
on a Denny's napkin
spring semester of
my senior year at ASU

You visited me in jail
in the mental hospital
even the halfway house

By God
you were there for me

And I shed
tears of gratitude on that poem
on that Denny’s napkin
from eyes that had been drought-stricken
for seven years--
it was an epiphany.

So is this.

Anyway, I have only started with a therapist. I was in a religious cult when I traumatized my son with over-discipline and yelling. He would hide under the bed if he was in trouble. I've been apologizing to him for 15 years since I left the cult and realized I was no better than my father. We had a decent relationship until my wife and I split up this year. I wrote him a long letter about the cycle, about having to forgive my dad, and forgive myself... or the anger is always there, and gets passed on as it was from my grandfather to my dad, to me, to my son, to his son... I want it broken. I want him to be a better dad than I. I mailed the letter a couple of days ago. I don´t know how he´ll receive it.
 
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Thanks, Shimmerz. I hope the outcome is beautiful. I went over 50 years without help. Therapist said I am like one coming out of a decades-long stupor. I forgive myself now after writing that letter and mailing it. I know how this goes, though. It´s a churning cycle of forgiveness, blame, anger, and pain of which I can only be mindful. I sit with all of these parts and let them process until they settle. I can only accept myself and others, not blame, or I am a hypocrite, a liar. I try to walk in compassionate mindfulness. Make room for healing.
 
We can see it on both sides.
Isn't that the truth. Shocking how my entire family is blinded to it. I can see it with my parents, who have long since died,ex's family, adult children.

Goddamit it was a long time for me to be able to see if myself. I wouldn't wish that on my kids. But then again, I wouldn't wish this hypnotic state I must have been in on them either.
 
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