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What Is Processing The Trauma?

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raven123

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I've looked and looked at "processing the trauma" and "processing rape trauma" and really see nothing that tells me what it is about really. Not sure what "processing" it means. I have no clue what or how I felt during the rape. I'm sure I was in shock during and after.

I do know the rape has defined my sexuality because a) I don't think sex is a big deal and b) sex is basically feeling good then an orgasm. Some say only have sex with people you "love". Since I've never felt this "love" thing people claim exists, I'm not sure I believe in it. I don't believe in romantic love at all. It's a Western concept not a universal concept anyway started by Dante just several hundred years ago. I've never connected to anyone anyway and certainly have never been valued by anyone, including family (a word I despise). My sperm donor hated me and I really don't believe my mom loved me either to be honest. I'm sure to some sex is "special". Not to me. If it feels good, do it is my belief as long as your consenting adults. Maybe the "special" aspect was just stolen by my rapists. I can buy that.

So, what is processing the trauma, or, in my case, processing the rape? I don't get it.

Thank you in advance if anyone can shed light on it. I can't afford therapy so that's out. I'm broke and without insurance. I've looked for help locally and found nothing really. It sucks, but I'm alone so far in this. I'm really sick of thinking about my rape day in and day out.
 
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Well, for me (and everyone is on a different journey) processing the rapes has meant allowing myself to really and truly reexperience the memory. I try to write them down. (yay blogging!) Then once I am done writing it down I reread it and reread it. I usually then go do some research on child development for whatever age I was. (First rape ~2 years old. Last rape 25 years old.) I try to see how that experience is shaping my current behavior--sometimes there are big red flags but other times less so.

I try to understand why it happened and where the failure mechanism was. I wasn't supervised or cared for. My family was full of severely traumatized drug addicts--of course they didn't care for me properly. Why didn't bystanders get involved? Sometimes there were witnesses and no one ever intervened. Hell, a parent of another kid in my class in second grade went to the teacher and said, "This girl is being sexually assaulted" and the teacher refused to help me.

Processing means understanding the full scope. Like seeing how I fit into the jigsaw puzzle of the world. It means understanding who I am and why I have had the experiences I have had. I have to really break it down or I just feel like a disgusting piece of shit who should die.

If I think about it hard enough I understand that I'm not bad nor disgusting and none of it was my fault. But I have to think really hard and go through a whole lot of thinking and "processing" before I can kind of feel that way.

Have you done any reading in The Courage to Heal? I take it out every few years and work through different traumas as things come up.

Sometimes people think about their trauma and get angry and use that energy to break things--like going to Goodwill and buying a hole box of dishes just so you can break them. Some people need to act out their anger or rage. Some people need to be held and rocked while they cry. Everyone is a little different.

When you were raped someone should have comforted you. Someone should have believed you and told you it wasn't your fault and you should have been helped towards justice. That didn't happen. That hurt is still inside of you waiting to be dealt with.

I need to tell people my story. I talk about rape and incest in public ways that make people uncomfortable. I can't be silent in order to make other people feel better about the world. Sorry. I can't pretend everything is hunky-dory.
 
Rightkindofme,

I'm so so sorry you went through that. That's horrible and I went through it, too. I'm sorry you never had a childhood. I didn't either. Many gentle hugs for you.

I was left with a couple the night my brother was born so they could care for me. Instead they raped me for hours. I was 3 1/2 years old. I've never told the story because my shrinks didn't want to hear it. Some were downright indifferent about it to be honest. I didn't find out till 27. Just in the last few weeks, I found out everything that happened that night. I think that was because the shrinks I had didn't want to discuss it and I've had no one to talk to about really. My first shrink dumped me the week after I found out.

I hope some shrinks or someone let you tell your story in person. I don't want to tell it all online because I want to do it in-person where I can see their face not some damn computer screen. I want to tell it, cry and be held, but I know that probably ain't happening anytime soon. No money for a shrink and none here are experts on that trauma anyway. The only one wanted me to sign-up for 2 years of therapy, or have the ability to.

No one ever comforted me (hug or anything) on it either. My mom said I was lying (I was 27 when I found out and told her). My home life was very abusive emotionally and physically and spiritually so there was no comfort there. I lived in fear of my sperm donor my whole childhood. So, honestly, I never had a childhood.

I've tried the Courage to Heal but it kept asking how I felt and "numb" was all I could think of so I threw it across the room. LOL I'm sure emotionally I'm still 3-5 years old cause I don't understand emotions at all. In fact, I hate emotions. I really do. None of the shrinks I had, despite their lies, were qualified in sexual trauma.

"Processing means understanding the full scope. Like seeing how I fit into the jigsaw puzzle of the world. It means understanding who I am and why I have had the experiences I have had. I have to really break it down or I just feel like a disgusting piece of shit who should die."

I'm sorry, babe. I've wished I was dead since 7 years old off and on all my life. I'm 44. I've always felt worthless, useless. Only in the last year have I stopped hating myself. I didn't know I was doing it. That's how I was raised. I still think, to some degree, even God and Jesus hates me cause that's pretty much what I was told by my sperm donor. It, and the other abuse, including spiritual abuse (hard to explain that one), ruined my life for sure. I've never had a life. I've just existed.

Thank you for explaining it. I'm kinda upset so taking a break for the night. Thank you again. :)
 
I was left with a couple the night my brother was born so they could care for me. Instead they raped me for hours. I was 3 1/2 years old. I've never told the story because my shrinks didn't want to hear it. Some were downright indifferent about it to be honest. I didn't find out till 27. Just in the last few weeks, I found out everything that happened that night. I think that was because the shrinks I had didn't want to discuss it and I've had no one to talk to about really. My first shrink dumped me the week after I found out.

I know I'm through a computer screen and inadequate, but I'm really sorry that happened. You didn't deserve it. You were just a kid. Your parents should have protected you and they didn't. They failed. They did not cherish you as the part of themselves that will live on. That's about poison inside of them--not you.

I haven't spoken about my trauma that much in person. I've told my husband in detail and I've talked about it in generalities with people in person. Mostly hearing about what happened to me traumatizes people so they don't want to hear it. :-\ It really forking sucks to have to stop talking about horrible trauma in order to comfort the schmuck who is listening to you. Talk about invalidating.

I encourage you to work through that frustration with the book. I know it is hard. You have to do lots of hard to get through this. You've already done a lot of hard--how bad could a little more be?

I've been suicidal for decades. One fewer decade than you because I'm younger. :) I anticipate still dealing with it in my forties. Sigh.

Everyone has to find their own peace with God/Jesus in this culture. If you are raised in a Judeo-Christian culture you will have some kind of something to work through. Have you read the Bible much? Near as I can tell Jesus (like the historical figure) was a ridiculously loving person. I'm not a Christian and I do not ascribe to the teachings and I think if there is an omnipotent God who turns her back on raped children I want no part of that.

But I no longer feel like something cosmic wishes me evil. I think there is no right, no deserve, and no "should" in this life. Shit happens pretty much at random. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. There is no rhyme or reason.

If you want to change your life you are the only one who can. You aren't dead yet. There is always hope.

I hope you get some rest.
 
Rightkind,

"I know I'm through a computer screen and inadequate, but I'm really sorry that happened...."

The reason I want to tell it in person is things get lost online when you can't see the other person and hopefully be comforted by whomever that will be, and, yeah, I expect me to break down doing it. But, that's how it has to be done. I'm sure when you told your husband, he comforted you. You're lucky people have listened to you and comforted you. Nobody ever loved me like that (your hubby has done to you). I've never been comforted by anyone over it. No hugs, no letting me cry, no nothing. So, I've never cried over it either. I figured what's the point? No one to comfort me anyway. So, I'm gonna be needy or I don't tell it. And, honestly, I don't want pedos reading my story of rape and getting their jollies off either. Yeah, they look for stories like ours. It's sick and disgusting and I don't want me to be used that way.

Yeah, I get you in telling someone and they can't hear it. I've been invalidated a lot, too. I know how you feel. My shrinks flat our told me they didn't want to hear it just what happened in the most sterile way possible. And, yeah, I despise each and every one of those losers. I was just stupid, well, uninformed of what they are supposed to do, and hurting and they took advantage. It was like I was raped again over and over by those shrinks...for money.

Thank you so much for the kind words. I believe my sperm donor knew about it and knew what they were going to do to me. I was supposed to be left with someone else, and, instead, he left me with them. Just a feeling I have about him. Hard to explain. But, when he defended them and called me a liar, I knew he knew. He's a sick person. If my mom would've known back then, I really don't know if she would've done anything. She let my sperm donor abuse me in every other way so he would "love" her. Sometimes, I do hate her guts. Mainly because she had the perfect childhood, and I'm not kidding, and let me live through hell. I really give her no excuses. She was no mama bear. And, I think she's suffering the guilt of it. She refuses to discuss it.

I really wonder if life doesn't wish me evil. I really do.

As far as fixing myself, no I don't know how. I've searched and searched for help and have no found it. :(

Thanks again. I'm off to bed. Good night.
 
I'm sure when you told your husband, he comforted you. You're lucky people have listened to you and comforted you. Nobody ever loved me like that (your hubby has done to you). I've never been comforted by anyone over it. No hugs, no letting me cry, no nothing. So, I've never cried over it either. I figured what's the point? No one to comfort me anyway. So, I'm gonna be needy or I don't tell it.

As far as fixing myself, no I don't know how. I've searched and searched for help and have no found it. :(

The first time I told my husband I made him go to the local mall with me and we walked. He wasn't allowed to touch me while I talked and I didn't want him to look at my face. I didn't cry and he didn't comfort me. That was in the first few months we knew one another.

I think we were married for more than six years before I let him see me cry.

I think that the reason you can't find the help you need is because it doesn't exist. You have to create it. No one other than you knows what you need. See that teddy bear in the icon? That's Ted. He's the one who sees me cry. I'm learning how to comfort me. I hide under my desk and rock and cry and hold my teddy bear and feel like a big ass loser.

But it's making my PTSD symptoms lessen. I feel a lot less bad about myself on a day to day basis. Everyone needs comfort. I can't allow anyone else to give me comfort. I have to do it for myself.

Seriously, if you haven't read all of The Courage to Heal you can't say it doesn't work. You don't know. Yes, it's frustrating. If you felt motivated to throw the book maybe you just found some anger under that numb. :P Do the exercises. All of them. You have to heal for *you* not because you have someone else to love you or to motivate you to find the way to feel better. You have to learn how to love you.

I know it is hard. You have to though. And not in a self-hating way. In a taking-care-of-you sort of way. Just because you are grateful to the body that survived a very hard life and is now available to you to go do whatever you want with life.

You are 44. Right now that means you are in the middle of your life. Think of all the things you have done in the last 44 years. What do you want to do in the next 44? Make lists. Seriously, be as selfish and as grandiose or as simple as you want. Col. Sanders was an *old* man when he started Kentucky Fried Chicken.

You are not dead. You don't need to give up on you. As long as you have breath there is hope. What is the quote...: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." It applies to self-change too. No one else can heal you. No one can grant you that. No therapist has it in a box (or I would have already gone through their closets) no book can tell you the right path. You have to read like five hundred books and then create the path for yourself.

You are unique in this world. You have a collection of interests and experiences that are probably not replicated perfectly in any other person. I promise you that it is useful to have people who break the mold.

Life doesn't wish you evil. Life doesn't wish you anything. Life is neutral. You may have had a bad childhood but it is up to you to have a good adulthood.

Not everyone gets a cookie cutter kind of good adulthood. You may have to mourn for lives you wish you got to lead. That will be hard. I'm going through some of that lately. :-\ But it's the natural part of life. :) As we age our talents become more singular and we no longer have a shot at some things. I will never be a prima ballerina. I doubt you will ever make it to the NBA.

But there's nothing to stop you from deciding to be an Olympian. There are some weird ass sports with really talented older people.

What do you want to do with your life? It's just for you. Where do you want to live? What do you want to do with your time? Thanks for being here on the internet for me to babble at. I was feeling lonely.
 
Mostly hearing about what happened to me traumatizes people so they don't want to hear it. :-\ It really forking sucks to have to stop talking about horrible trauma in order to comfort the schmuck who is listening to you. Talk about invalidating.

I'm curious as to why you believe you have the right to verbally dump that sort of thing on other people. Long/short, you don't. Talking may help you, but if you're bringing down others in the process, you've gone too far.

This is why therapists exist. You talk to them in a structured setting. They are not emotionally attached to you and are trained to deal with such info. (If you were referring to therapists in your post, dump him/her. You should never have to comfort a therapist.)

I never have and never will tell anyone the details of my trauma beyond "I was molested by a female babysitter when I was little" and sexual partners are told what triggers me. Beyond that, It would be downright cruel to say what happened in any sort of detail. It is MY burden to carry, nobody else's.

Edited to add... I'll tell nobody other than a therapist. Been there done that have the t-shirt, so it's taken care of.
 
Rightkind,

Processing it:
Coming to remember/understand what happened to the best of your ability;

I know what happened.

Correctly identifying and accepting matters of blame, responsibility, causality, consequence etc;

Since I was 3 1/2 years old when I was raped, I was not to blame, had no responsibility in it, they caused it not me, and I hope the consequences of it were severe to them, but they did get away with it.

Identifying and experiencing the emotions asociated with the trauma which may or may not have been known or experienced at the time;

The only "emotion" I know what shock. I was in shock the whole time, the next day and figured nobody cared about me or what happened to me that day in the days, weeks, months that followed. So, I forgot it.

Identifying and addressing the ways in which the trauma has impacted on your current life/functioning/interpretation of the world;

I don't connect to others, I really don't feel anything from others either, I've never had a relationship (platonic or otherwise), I'm cold and unemotional 90% of the time, I've had chronic emptiness since the rape, I can't be touched by men at all or by anyone all the sudden, I don't like hugs, I don't cry, I've been Bipolar (not sure if I still am), I have no clue what love is, sex to me is no big deal and not personal (if it feels good, do it), I grew up at 4/5 years old, I started wanting to die at 7 years old on and off all my life, I self-injured for years, etc. I would've cut but I didn't want scars everywhere so I hit myself. I've hated myself since 4/5 years old till just in the last year and half. I'm sure there's more.

Identifying and, to the extent possible, "rewriting" the cognitive distortions and other maladaptive thoughts and feelings arising from the trauma...

Beats me how to do that.

That's all I know.

"Thanks for being here on the internet for me to babble at. I was feeling lonely."

You're welcome. Thanks for listening.
 
I never have and never will tell anyone the details of my trauma beyond "I was molested by a female babysitter when I was little" and sexual partners are told what triggers me. Beyond that, It would be downright cruel to say what happened in any sort of detail. It is MY burden to carry, nobody else's.

Edited to add... I'll tell nobody other than a therapist. Been there done that have the t-shirt, so it's taken care of.

That is your path through life. It isn't mine. Maybe you think the right thing to do is suffer in silence but I'm over that.

I don't connect to others, I really don't feel anything from others either, I've never had a relationship (platonic or otherwise), I'm cold and unemotional 90% of the time, I've had chronic emptiness since the rape, I can't be touched by men at all or by anyone all the sudden, I don't like hugs, I don't cry, I've been Bipolar (not sure if I still am), I have no clue what love is, sex to me is no big deal and not personal (if it feels good, do it), I grew up at 4/5 years old, I started wanting to die at 7 years old on and off all my life, I self-injured for years, etc. I would've cut but I didn't want scars everywhere so I hit myself. I've hated myself since 4/5 years old till just in the last year and half. I'm sure there's more.

What would having relationships look like? Do you know people? Do you talk to them? What is "having a relationship" to you?
 
"What would having relationships look like? Do you know people? Do you talk to them? What is "having a relationship" to you?"

Honestly, I don't know. I don't know what people want. People would tell me I was cold. That's how I had to be to survive as a kid. I don't know any different. I've just always felt empty and alone or lonely and no idea how to change it. I was not allowed friends as a kid much.
 
LOL @ rightkindofme.

I don't "suffer". I think it's rude of you to assume that I do! I stated that my trauma is processed. Why would I need to continue to hash and re-hash and hash it once again? It would be beating a dead horse! Believe it or not, people do get to the point of not needing to talk about it any more. I think it's called moving forward? I'm not surprised that people don't want to listen to you. Well, with your "I was traumatized so I have the right to traumatize others with my story" sort of attitude.

Sooner or later someone will tell you point blank to SHUT UP and then it'll hit home that maybe you shouldn't talk about it anymore.

I "talk" about it here, but nowhere else. I choose to not have my other relationships be trauma-centric.
 
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