Recent content by maryel42

I am afraid when the nurses come in. I don't want to do this again. I'm burrowing back in the bed and starting to cry, but it's got to be done. I have to learn to hold still for it. I have to learn to smile when they're done, and say Thank You, and I need to reassure them that it's okay. That...

i don't typically cry. People who I've talked to in the past, friends, counselors, etc, have said that I don't cry enough; but they also don't pressure me to do it. It's more of a passing comment. That said, there are times when I do. Very weepy days. Not huge, full on, my trauma was so...

The room is dim. That's something that all the treatment rooms were, in the end. Dim. And as much as I hated the ones in the city hospital, the ones at the local were nearly as bad. It was a local day that I remember the most. That's the one that's burned into my brain. My grandmother was the...

I'm working on this in therapy now. In addition to everything else. Keeping safe right this minute... my kids are a big part of that. I can't let them know it, and I will never tell them this, but they are. They are also my incentive to keep my freakouts on the inside of my head. After...

Before my kids started making a lot of developmental progress, it was easy to lose hope. I was exhausted and wrung out and there never seemed any end at all to the pain. Can't look back and see good things and don't dare to look ahead. I always had trouble with goals though. Never believed that...

that's good advice. I use that not only to not go back but not to look ahead and get bogged in what ifs.

I just have trouble tonight wrapping my head over where this is coming from. No current new medical stuff, just the daily grind of the pain journaling. Is this piggybacking on the abuse flashbacks or what? Please excuse my freakout just now.

I just... Wish there was a limit to it. a catastrophic cap on this stuff. All my life that's not medical and surgical trauma is more than enough. I will be sifting that out for all my life as it brings me not to my knees forever, but a definite wind-knocking-out-of. Add in the medical and...

I know I got a severe dental phobia when my teeth were all pulled. It wasn't the dentist's fault. He did what he could. But the way it ended up was brutal, for everyone. I guess I just didn't expect to have this other stuff come back to be a problem. I think it really reinforced the messages...

I feel so stupid. So more damaged at this moment. I was noting down the immediate pain issues in my pain journal; which works out to every two hours throughout the day I write down everything that hurts above the 'meh, it's annoying but it doesn't impair me' level. I look back and see that my...

Today its water. A thing that happened regularly enough, that I haven't thought about in forever, and its linking back from that bathroom abuse... And its hard to breathe because half of me is back in the past. Water on my face, over my nose, cant breathe except through my mouth shallowly, and...

Y'know, I have struggled with self-injury myself for longer than I will ever care to admit. I've sunk into really bad and scary places in my own head chasing it. I spent more years figuring out how to stop using it as my go to... and I have never found a perfect way to tell someone. I think...

I told the bathroom thing to my therapist. He said, thank you. That confuses the hell out of me. I don't know why he thanked me. Because it's a massive thing to trust somebody with? But it's not... it's just something that happened, a long time ago, that I need to get over and that I can't get...

Today was the first time in years and years that I think I actually did intense trauma work. I thought I had, before, but nah... this was the real thing. I remember. Beyond the emotional skin, for me, beyond the ways that I hide myself and censor my words, just where it is... all the reasons...

I don't know why I can't get it out of my head I'm still three. Still thirteen. Still too young and too weak and too dead. I'm still seven. Still seventeen. I can still feel the bruises coming up, the last time my father touched me. I don't remember what I said to him, but I remember the...