Susan Jane
Silver Member
My sister just left; she was here visiting for 3 weeks. Normally. we cancel if one of us is not great, as we both suffer from mental heath stuff. I took her to the airport this morning, and was proud I could drive...like hey I have had a drivers license for three plus decades and driven on both sides of the road, but in a bad episode and I feel like I have never driven. 
After getting her to the security check, my sister has trouble using her mobile phone, computer etc. and therefore often asks me. Now under normal circumstances I roll my eyes and help. Lately it makes me so stressed I can hardly deal. Well guess what the universe decided? After getting through security someone stole her wallet as it was coming off the trays! Super! She called me and her CC, residence card, drivers license and health card are now gone. We are on different ends of the telephone, her with the police and me. One added complication, she doesn't speak German. Guess who dealt? After hours of dealing and cancelling CC all is back in some order. Nevertheless, I was tired and fell asleep for an hour. This is not something I do, as I often cannot sleep at all. I thought it would be okay, but I woke up in my panic, sister gone, all alone. I called her and told her I was panicking, and we felt slightly better. Why the story?
It made me realize just how deep memories of being afraid go down, even decades later. It reminded me I do not trust anyone to be there in the long run. Why? Well, my early childhood was just so unpredictable, abusive, I felt so alone and afraid. How the effin hell did my mother not know what she was doing to us? I get angry but then tell myself ...Do not go down that road, she was doing the best she could and was mentally unstable herself. Then I land again on the reason I have this nervous disorder that flashes and freaks me out and then changes into depression, because I cannot see my way out. That is my trauma. I breath and say to myself "do something to make this go away, anything!" Then I realize, I do not have anything to make it go away, I don't do Valium, alcohol or call someone not good for me to try and make me feel safe. Why? These are temporary measures, and they do not work, they prolong everything, and I must deal with the same shit afterwards. Now what? I calmly tell myself, this is a scared child, not you. You are an adult; you are not back there. The airport across from my house, the anxiety I felt, the noise from the small planes buzzing in my ears and I am back there scared and helpless. This feeling, the dread of the noise, the outside, my sister, who just left visiting .... tormenting me. My sister and I have since worked it out, she apologized for years to me about her abuse, and I knew she was passing down the abuse she was getting being the older sister. I used to cry in our room when my mother would scream at her and hit her, belittle her, even though she tormented me, I loved her. This is but one of so many points I go back to... that house, the carpet color, the floor plan, the back yard...and my primal fear. This was even before I was given away to the foster system. What all happened in that house? Is it important? The second memories is the house across the street, my best friend, Monique and her brother. We loved to play, and unfortunately her father did as well. He used to walk around naked in from of us. He masturbated as we watched TV, and we pretended not to notice. He scared me. He used to tell me I could show him my pussy if I wanted to and pitch my private parts. He would try to get into the bathroom when we were having a bath and would shake the door and yell at us. She used to say ignore him, and I was terrified. I do not know if anything else happened. I finally told my mentally unstable mother, and I remember her going there and speaking to him. I do not know what she said, I think I was happy for the protection. Nevertheless, she left us soon after, she sent us to foster care. They separated us my sister and I and we didn't see much of each other for 6 years. I was 8 foster homes, she was in 3 and then lived on the street and sold drugs to survive. During this time, she was raped by gun point, and I was well, not very well. I met an older boy, and he was abusive, and I got pregnant at 15.
I have never talked about this with a therapist me getting pregnant, my sister getting raped at gun point. It just seemed like someone else's life and I disassociated into my dream world. How do I speak about such things?
My parents abandoned us. My mother was partying in Hawaii, and my father was remarried and wouldn't take us, even though he had the money to do so. How does one feel any amount of self worth?
This shit is just the tip of the iceberg, and I still question if I have trauma issues? why has it taken me so long to let myself off the hook? To say yes these and other shitty things happened to me from 0-15 and I am not at fault? I was a child and had no direction.
After getting her to the security check, my sister has trouble using her mobile phone, computer etc. and therefore often asks me. Now under normal circumstances I roll my eyes and help. Lately it makes me so stressed I can hardly deal. Well guess what the universe decided? After getting through security someone stole her wallet as it was coming off the trays! Super! She called me and her CC, residence card, drivers license and health card are now gone. We are on different ends of the telephone, her with the police and me. One added complication, she doesn't speak German. Guess who dealt? After hours of dealing and cancelling CC all is back in some order. Nevertheless, I was tired and fell asleep for an hour. This is not something I do, as I often cannot sleep at all. I thought it would be okay, but I woke up in my panic, sister gone, all alone. I called her and told her I was panicking, and we felt slightly better. Why the story?It made me realize just how deep memories of being afraid go down, even decades later. It reminded me I do not trust anyone to be there in the long run. Why? Well, my early childhood was just so unpredictable, abusive, I felt so alone and afraid. How the effin hell did my mother not know what she was doing to us? I get angry but then tell myself ...Do not go down that road, she was doing the best she could and was mentally unstable herself. Then I land again on the reason I have this nervous disorder that flashes and freaks me out and then changes into depression, because I cannot see my way out. That is my trauma. I breath and say to myself "do something to make this go away, anything!" Then I realize, I do not have anything to make it go away, I don't do Valium, alcohol or call someone not good for me to try and make me feel safe. Why? These are temporary measures, and they do not work, they prolong everything, and I must deal with the same shit afterwards. Now what? I calmly tell myself, this is a scared child, not you. You are an adult; you are not back there. The airport across from my house, the anxiety I felt, the noise from the small planes buzzing in my ears and I am back there scared and helpless. This feeling, the dread of the noise, the outside, my sister, who just left visiting .... tormenting me. My sister and I have since worked it out, she apologized for years to me about her abuse, and I knew she was passing down the abuse she was getting being the older sister. I used to cry in our room when my mother would scream at her and hit her, belittle her, even though she tormented me, I loved her. This is but one of so many points I go back to... that house, the carpet color, the floor plan, the back yard...and my primal fear. This was even before I was given away to the foster system. What all happened in that house? Is it important? The second memories is the house across the street, my best friend, Monique and her brother. We loved to play, and unfortunately her father did as well. He used to walk around naked in from of us. He masturbated as we watched TV, and we pretended not to notice. He scared me. He used to tell me I could show him my pussy if I wanted to and pitch my private parts. He would try to get into the bathroom when we were having a bath and would shake the door and yell at us. She used to say ignore him, and I was terrified. I do not know if anything else happened. I finally told my mentally unstable mother, and I remember her going there and speaking to him. I do not know what she said, I think I was happy for the protection. Nevertheless, she left us soon after, she sent us to foster care. They separated us my sister and I and we didn't see much of each other for 6 years. I was 8 foster homes, she was in 3 and then lived on the street and sold drugs to survive. During this time, she was raped by gun point, and I was well, not very well. I met an older boy, and he was abusive, and I got pregnant at 15.
I have never talked about this with a therapist me getting pregnant, my sister getting raped at gun point. It just seemed like someone else's life and I disassociated into my dream world. How do I speak about such things?
My parents abandoned us. My mother was partying in Hawaii, and my father was remarried and wouldn't take us, even though he had the money to do so. How does one feel any amount of self worth?
This shit is just the tip of the iceberg, and I still question if I have trauma issues? why has it taken me so long to let myself off the hook? To say yes these and other shitty things happened to me from 0-15 and I am not at fault? I was a child and had no direction.
