Can't Fake It Anymore

[Dana1010]

One of the most striking things about my life post PTSD is how isolated I've become due to the simple fact that I can't bring myself to fake it with people anymore. I can no longer come up with fake stories about who I am, where I grew up, how I grew up, who my parents are, what they did for a living, why I dropped out of college, the list is endless. When I first got out of my parents' house, I shot out like a cannon spewing lies, lies, lies like a natural to every face I met. I could go into a bar and meet someone and when they'd look at me and say, "What's your story?" I'd make up whole fake life stories on the spot. I didn't even think about it, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. But since PTSD hit, it's like the whole facade just came crashing to rubble around me. If someone were to ask me today, "What's your story?" I don't know what I'd do. I'm just profoundly tired of living on lies. So I avoid people altogether, because I know nothing about me would be acceptable to them. I'm just too tired to lie.

I wish I still had it in me sometimes. I wish I could get dressed right now and go out for a drink and meet someone and just conceal everything about myself, laugh, drink. I've always wanted to be with people who were out of my rank. Man, I was skating on thin ice. "I don't know where you get it from," my narcissist ex-boyfriend used to say. I think when I was growing up, something in me just wouldn't accept the reality around me. I escaped through fantasy. And then PTSD; it was like the roof caving in on decades of denial, like I had just realized that all of those things had happened. The normal life people just make want to go live in a cave and never come out. I don't want to hear about it.

I wish I could go back to denial sometimes. It's the only thing that ever worked. Why can't I fake it anymore?

 

[falling_wave]

I used to do that too only I created my life the way I wanted it and willed myself to believe it until I almost did. Then it hit me one day that it took more energy and shame to pretend I was someone I am not than to be who I am however sad that might be. From then on I lived a fully authentic life with all the pain and joy that comes with it. It's hard not to run from that pain but if you put in the work to find things that make you happy you will experience it little by little and it will feel so much better because this happiness is real.

 

[Dana1010]

Thanks for that, @falling_wave, though you may be universalizing your own experience a bit. After all your sh*t isn't my sh*t; you don't know what I'm running from, and I don't know what you ran from.

 

[Seasounds]

Good for you! It is such a step. I hope have support while you are making changes. You have my support, that is for sure!

 

[Dana1010]

@Saetva, thanks. That's sort of where the catch lies, though. If by support, you mean friends, I don't have any. I can't have any unless I go back to lying and faking. Most of the time these days, I do just want to be alone honestly, but sometimes I think back to times I've had with the few good people I've known. And I wonder if it might be therapeutic to have some company once in a while, but there's this bind. I'm grateful for this forum and people like you with whom I can talk about reality. I'm just in no mood to go back to the masquerade. And I'm sure it's not just me donning a mask, it's everyone to some degree. I've been thinking about how different life would be if we all talked to each other the way we do in therapy. Why do we have to hide?

 

[GWhizz]

I try to be as honest as I can for the most part. But when it comes to my history, that's different. And I don't think that makes you a bad person. I used to feel bad for it. Heck I had a baby with my partner, had him meet my old family and not tell him any of it until years after. My T told me to stop berating myself for it. That I did/do it to protect myself. We can't tell every Joe-soap we meet that our parents were actually our abusers/rapists (sorry speaking personally here, dunno your backstory) when they ask about their professions. Deep down it sickens me having to pretend that my parents were good and successful people. And that they were in someway to credit for getting me to the point I am at in my present life. But no one really knows what's going on fully in another's life unless they're a serious bestfriend for life or a significant other. It's not even about not being able to speak of the abuse. It's just not sensible to be open with everyone/anyone about it. My colleagues assume my mother is super-obsessed with my son as her only grandchild, that they take him to help me out. In reality I will never let them see him.

Randomers in a bar. Sometimes it's nice to just pretend. I don't believe my facade. I think that's the difference. Knowing deep down what's real and what isn't. It's all about self preservation and protection. We wouldn't be as resilient as we are if we needed everyone else to know. We know our truth and we live it everyday through ptsd. That's enough imo.

 

[Whirlwind]

Why do we have to hide?

I have the same frustration. But unfortunately I've regretted every single time I've "shared" anything with anyone to date. And most of that was very high level stuff and even that seems to go poorly.

It seems wrong to have to pretend or go along with peoples assumptions (mostly I just let that happen, its amazing how people so rarely ask anything "real")

It will be interesting to hear from others on this ....

Take care, Whirlwind

 

[Seasounds]

@Dana1010,

Why can't I fake it anymore?

I don't believe it has anything to do with personal strength. It is not a short-coming. It is natural to get emotionally overwhelmed by traumatic experiences.

And as I don't know why for you, I can say why for me. It was like a dam that I couldn't hold back anymore. I was broken. It got to the point where I was do depressed, and I felt like my only choices were to try choices that I hadn't tried: either speaking the truth-as I remembered it (through nightmares that developed after I tried to deny flashbacks of abuse), or suicide. In a way, sharing my truth was the harder of the options, but I chose it.

I spoke my truth gradually, kind of like trying it out; seeing if I had the courage to say it, risking all family relationships, and seeing who would stay 'with me' as I spoke my truth.

First I told a doctor. Then I found a group for sexual survivors, and shared it there. I found a therapist, and told her. All of those choices were supportive. Also, I happen to make friends with a group of artists, many of whom were sexual abused.

Since my opening the truth I have run into some professionals who have asked me to deny my truth or feel bad about myself, for what I know to be the truth.

After a few years, and years apart, I shared my truth with my close cousin (reaction-neutral, sadly he later killed himself. He was gay, in a very Catholic home), then my sister (asked me to deny it), my father (who wrote me out of his will), and mother (who wrote me out of her will). And, happily, I can say that am saner and happier, for it all. Nightmares stopped, depression decreased and was treatable.

If you can, you might look for a trauma group-related to your kind of trauma, either on line, or in your city. A therapist can greatly help. Other 12 step groups, where it comes up-at times, and where you can at least find out that you are not alone, are adult Children of Alcoholics, and Alanon.

Why do we have to hide?

We don't have to. I think people chose to hide because it means approaching and feeling pain, possibly losing valued relationships, and because of breaking social taboos-of making your family 'look' bad.

I'm with you, it is really a cultural sorrow, that we don't support telling the truth, as we remember it. In an ideal world, where people would have the self-esteem, and forgiveness, to face, and feel their shadow, the need to hide would be less.

I am glad to know you. I am glad to support you!

 

[shimmerz]

I couldn't lie if my life depended on it. I would be caught so quickly. I can't pull them off and I can't remember them. As a result, I am forced to tell the truth. I am not ashamed of myself because of what happened to me. Some people would like me to be. I don't fit into that box, nor will I ever. I like Saetva's idea about rebuilding in groups of people who have had similar pasts and are attempting to heal. An exposure type therapy. Walking through the pain is part of the process. Keep moving if you can Dana.

 

[Whirlwind]

I escaped through fantasy. And then PTSD; it was like the roof caving in on decades of denial, like I had just realized that all of those things had happened.

So I avoid people altogether, because I know nothing about me would be acceptable to them. I'm just too tired to lie.

Exactly. I tried awhile ago to just be honest, at a very high level, just not going along with others stories of their youth, travel.... I chose not to make up a story when they prompted me to share so I shared an adventure I had as an adult but let them know I had been on my own since late teens.

That minor share on my part did not go well, and it didn't even scratch the surface of my experience. And now I am uncomfortable and feel insulted by the experience, and thus my isolation continues.

 

[Dana1010]

That minor share on my part did not go well, and it didn't even scratch the surface of my experience. And now I am uncomfortable and feel insulted by the experience, and thus my isolation continues.

Right. In days of yore I would have just made something up. I remember on a plane ride once, I sat next to someone very talkative and told him my dad went to Princeton and was a doctor, and I grew up in a tony suburb. In the baggage area, someone who sat in front of us saluted me with a look of respect. I was so desperate for validation, I would take anything, even if I had to forge it. The difference now is that I can't suspend disbelief anymore. I can lie and dissemble to achieve an appearance of acceptance, but I know it's not real, so what good does it do me? I might as well stay home.

@Whirlwind, can you tell us a little about how they reacted? What made you realize you'd made a mistake by sharing?

 

[Whirlwind]

@Whirlwind, can you tell us a little about how they reacted? What made you realize you'd made a mistake by sharing?[/QUOTE]

Four of us were talking, one started sharing silly stories, youthful antics, skiing in Europe on a family vacation, their first car, growing up different places stuff like that. When my "turn" came, I shared a recent story but said I had been on my own since late teens and didn't start traveling until much later in life.

They just ignored me after what felt like a very uncomfortable pause. The discussion broke up as people found things to do in the kitchen etc. The wife approached me about an hour later and asked me on the side if my parents "drank". I responded yes with the intent of leaving it at that. I figured people were caught off guard which is ok and I really appreciated her approaching me and simply asking something personal.

A bit later her husband is pouring me a glass of wine as they were serving dinner and she says "Careful, we need to watch her because her parents are alcoholics". He exclaimed "OH, thats right" shorted my drink! LOL. It seems she had already told him?

I was so embarrassed because another couple had come over for dinner and I barely know them, they had no clue what was going on. I responded.... I've managed my life addiction free for 50 yrs, I think its safe to say I've got it under control.

No comment from anyone, conversation moved onto random stuff. I was staying at their home visiting and thankfully I was leaving the next morning.

This was not my worst experience but I still feel very embarrassed and insulted. I left them on pleasant terms but the gal was giving me "a look" the next morning and was noticeably cold towards me.

Ugh, I am still embarrassed by this whole thing. fyi I am not an alcoholic in the faintest degree, I have never been drunk in front of these folks, never.