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- #13
katz
Platinum Member
Thank you, Susan. It is good to know that I am not alone.I do get this. I have been having flashbacks about all sorts of stuff I thought I had dealt with… my T says I only spoke about it now I am feeling it, like I did back then. The memories are so upsetting I pace and feel like banging my head against something to make it stop. Instead I breathe and then cry from the bottom of my soul. I am kind to myself and tell myself I am safe and no one should have had to live through the shit I endured. My T told me to hold on to the feeling even if only a few seconds. It would become lighter when I allowed myself to feel the sadness and terror. Sometimes this goes on for hours, and sometimes the whole day. Sometimes I feel better sometimes numb. It comes up with every memory at different strengths. It is effin’ exhausting. I hear you Katz and send my support.![]()
I think the reason that I waited for him to die is so that I could feel like it is all over. That no one can ever hurt me like he did. I once told the "secret", and the family erupted at me and accused me of lying. And of course, He denied it. So, the whole story/incident was just swept under the rug. I felt like I was being traumatized all over again, only this time it was by everyone in the family. I realized that I was on my own in my healing process.
Because he was so old, I convinced myself that he was the last and that "they" were all dead now. I knew that they would all have to face Judgement Day, and I believed that they would get their "just reward". I think that this is why I waited and kept my anger and hurt to myself after that. I decided to find a way to "heal" myself as best I could. So, I went looking for proof that it even happened.
I found out that by going to each place-or even to the general area that I remembered, I was able to mourn. I cried for that little Me inside. The one that no one helped/believed or was concerned for way back then. I went back many times and as the time went on, I felt less tears. I think that I was being the parent for that little girl. I let her cry and feel the emotional pain she had kept inside for so long. I was able to comfort her and tell her that she is not alone anymore, and that she is safe now.
I know that the memories come in waves, for me there are even years between the details that I remember. Then I have to figure out who and when to put them with. When I remember something different, then, it seems that it starts all over again. I am hoping that as I get older, I can remember and mourn enough to finally be able to put these memories in the past-where they belong.
I've learned over the years to value myself and to feel more and more of these memories, and to let others' opinions just pass by me. (It took me years and years just to convince myself that they even happened.) I am getting better at trusting myself and realizing that this past will always be part of me. Even if it is this terrible - just to be patient with myself and give me time to heal as much as I need to.