Feeling guilty, shameful, horrible, disgusting etc. over things you had to do to survive

[Sweetleaf]

This came up in my trauma diary. I imagine many of us have problems with this sort of thing; @Freida suggested making a thread about it.

I know that during my trauma, I did what I had to do to survive. I know that, on an intellectual level.

However, I can't really make myself believe it. All the horrible, disgusting, degrading, painful, exhausting things that I did, because my abuser wanted me to do them, or subjected me to them - it's hard to not feel responsible for those things, like I "chose" to do those things.

The alternative to doing those bad things was worse. My abuser would often threaten to kill me, and even point guns at me. He would hit me with things, he would threaten to kill himself, kill both of us, kill my cats, I could go on and on, this is a very tiny view on his shit. If I didn't do what he wanted, whatever it was - I was soooo f*cked, for like at least the rest of the day. Really bad stuff would happen when I didn't do as he wished. It wasn't worth risking it.

Yet I still can't help but feel guilty, shameful, disgusting, etc. I would have died if I didn't do all of that, but I still feel like I chose to do it, or like I'm responsible for doing those things instead of something else.

Anyone relate? Any thoughts? What do you do about that? Does that fade with time? Do things like EMDR ease it away?

 

[Virtues]

I can relate... I wish I could share my thoughts on the topic, but I'm not sure I could without telling my story, and I'm not sure I could tell my story without giving up my anonymity. Those negative feelings about self have not faded with me over time, but I am merely 1 account. I think different forms of therapy work for different people. EMDR and CPT didn't work for me, but prolonged exposure and ACT did. I think it depends on the person and what they're receptive to.

 

[LuckiLee]

I've chatted with Freida about this a little bit. But as I read your post it makes me think about moral injury...

Moral injury - damage done to one's conscience or moral compass when that person perpetrates, witnesses, or fails to prevent acts that transgress their own morals, ethical values or codes of conduct.

I know my guy struggles with this. He's seen and done some horrible sh*t to stay alive too.

The abusers should feel those things (guilt, shame, disgust). NOT YOU.

(Take what works, leave the rest.)

XO

 

[ladee]

We just have to keep being willing to show up, in life, in therapy, here, at work, and know, that others have gone before us, that have had to learn how to see things in a different light. When we look at the things we had to do to survive, it's like it's under a black light. Where everything looks so glaring and in stark contrast to how we want our life to look.... Sometimes , with the work we do, things start to shift, and we still understand we did them. but not because it was our idea or because we wanted to.. We stop carrying the responsibility for the situation we were in... we stop feeling shame for saving our life. We get our power back from our perpetrators...our abusers. We put the blame where it belongs... on the backs of those who hurt us.

We find a lot of self worth, start to heal, do things differently... living a different life. Just don't give up on yourself...You didn't then, and now you have a wide open door and pathway to healing....

We put as much into healing as we did surviving... it's gets easier. It is hard work, and it sucks that we are having to do all this because of choices we didn't have.. but we have choices now...And that will ALWAYS make us more powerful than the people who hurt us...

And yes, it fades with time, therapy, doing things that are self caring, the list is long of good things... So glad you asked this question... So many of us thought or still think, it was all our fault... nope, not true.. not at all.

We get to heal, and our abusers are still the same ugly people they were then... so we win in the end... we get to choose to put our energy into self hatred, or self healing... took a lot of courage for you to start this thread... shows me how much personal power you have !!!!! Build on that... and you are not alone...

 

[somerandomguy]

I can relate, and I sometimes feel even worse because no one ever pointed a gun at me. I asked for it. You had no choice if you wanted to live.

I'm working through it. Gun or no gun, I've finally come to terms that yes, I was sexually abused. Once I accepted that, it was easier to accept that it wasn't my fault. Once I accepted that it wasn't my fault, the burden lightened a little bit. I've still got a lot of work to do, and some days I still feel horrible and emasculated.

You're not alone.

 

[Freida]

I still condemn myself for the horrible things I did to stay alive...even after all this time and all the help I've gotten in therapy and on this site.

But it's not quite as bad as it was when I started, when I was so terrified to talk about it I would shake and lose my words. I'm less afraid of being judged like I was when I started here, when i truly believed I would be kicked off this site and out of therapy if I ever admitted to what I had done. How could people not condemn me for being so weak and pathetic that I couldn't save myself?

As time goes by I'm learning/accepting...so very slowly...that maybe I'm not to blame. That maybe giving up and giving in saved me instead of damming me. I have a long way to go to make peace with my actions...then another longer road to make peace with the actions of others. But I have just a bit more faith it can be done than I did. So I'll take the win.

 

[Survivor2018]

Since becoming a mother a few years ago this has become something I have been much more aware of as I get older and she gets older. I feel a tremendous sense of embarrassment, shame, regret and everything in between in trying to cope with what I didn't understand at the time. Some things I suppressed for a long time and they come back in waves and others are flashes of a former life. I am trying to get to a place of repentance and atonement with the things I have done and will do. I think a lot of it is accepting I am a flawed human being who makes mistakes and trying not to let those mistakes and failures define me because I did what I had to do to survive. I'm glad I am not alone in feeling this.

 

[Tornadic Thoughts]

I can relate. I was just talking to a tree about this today. Crying it out, speaking each thing out loud as best I could remember, and then tried to flip the script and gave thanks for the harsh exposure to that side of myself so I know for damn sure who I'm capable of being when under pressure of many varieties, but yet recognizing that I actively choose not to engage in those things again. It doesn't stop the vivid memories or the shame tsunami that washes away all rhyme and reason some days, though. I kick my own ass from the inside out much worse than any of those f*ckers ever did, it seems.

 

[littleoc]

Oops, I ended up quoting.. all of you.

So... long story short -- this is highly relatable. :(

However, I can't really make myself believe it. All the horrible, disgusting, degrading, painful, exhausting things that I did, because my abuser wanted me to do them, or subjected me to them - it's hard to not feel responsible for those things, like I "chose" to do those things.

I hate myself when I remember that I walked into my kidnapper's house every day after school. Why did I wait a year to run off? Also, I must not have really wanted to if I got caught so easily (for petting a dog that turned out to bite me).

I also really hate myself for not telling my mom, because it hurt her feelings that I didn't. She got really upset. Said no one tells her anything. Still bothers me.

But yeah, this thread is an amazing idea -- thank you for starting it :D

and I'm not sure I could tell my story without giving up my anonymity.

You'd be surprised. I was afraid to keep a diary because my family is rather well-known, but even though I gave some rather specific detail occasion, I'm still anonymous! :)
Do what makes you feel safe, though.

The abusers should feel those things (guilt, shame, disgust). NOT YOU.

I've always thought this, when I was my most upset. PTSD isn't fair, and that's one of the most messed up things about it.

and I sometimes feel even worse because no one ever pointed a gun at me. I asked for it.

I know I was a child for the worst of mine, but I still totally get this. Becoming an adult under it and feeling like I needed the abuse to survive and function as a person in society. I didn't even realize it was f*cked up until about a year ago.

How could people not condemn me for being so weak and pathetic that I couldn't save myself?

Yeah, I was shocked when people were nice to me on this website after some of the things I told. It didn't feel like I would get support at all.

I think a lot of it is accepting I am a flawed human being who makes mistakes and trying not to let those mistakes and failures define me because I did what I had to do to survive.

You are flawed or you wouldn't be interesting or wouldn't grow as a person, but also remember that your mistakes may have been the only option for you even if you seemed to have a choice at one point. I don't know your full story of course, but not everything is just the result of a mistake. I made a bad friend and that was a mistake, but my bad friend made a lot of mistakes that amounted to abuse -- that wasn't my mistake. Maybe it wasn't yours either.

I kick my own ass from the inside out much worse than any of those f*ckers ever did, it seems.

I bet there are zero people who don't agree with this :)

 

[Sweetleaf]

I sometimes feel even worse because no one ever pointed a gun at me

I can see what you mean in that I have a -whole lot- of things that I did without guns being involved, many of which are -really- degrading and just f*cking bad in all sorts of ways. I imagine things would have gone much the same even if he had no access to guns, because eventually I made sure all the guns were f*cking -gone- (gotta take advantage of the times your psycho abuser is in the psych ward) and yet, during that time at the very end when there were no guns in the house, he still had complete control over me, and he still did all sorts of crazy, dangerous things.

Guns weren't necessary for any of that shit to happen to me. There are so many ways that abusers control you. They are manipulative f*ckers. A lot of those times, I'd be getting blamed for doing the things that he made me do, he was like "Well, you went and did it, so obviously it isn't that big of a deal to you, because then you would have refused."...

So many other things went on, so many methods of manipulation.

Hah, writing this has made me think of even more shit, shit that I can't even tell anyone, not even you all. At least not yet. I guess I just fired up the right neurons.

so I know for damn sure who I'm capable of being when under pressure of many varieties

Oh f*ck that hit home hard.

Like seriously, you just strung some words together that perfectly describe the thing I wanted to describe. I have so much trauma that has that element to it.

There are things that I know I'm capable of that really disturb and distress me, because I've done them before. I had to do them - I know that but it doesn't help. Disgusting things. Degrading things. Painful things. Horrifying, scary things. Things that cause deep guilt. Things that cause regret. Things that make me feel so much loss. I could go on and on.

I have even seen -many- examples of people being incapable of doing things that I've done. It makes me feel so horrible to know I am capable of things, that most people are too distressed by, or too disgusted by, to be able to do.

For example:

It's abnormal, to be able to FORCE yourself to do some shit. Some really disgusting shit. It makes me feel like a f*cking freak, a disgusting f*cking dirty whore piece of shit, so much guilt and regret. So many nauseating things. There are things that currently make me gag HARD to think about (guess what I've done while writing this, thinking of shit I won't even be telling you, or maybe anyone ever - spoiler alert: gagged a bunch). Those things, are things I did -without- gagging or vomiting or anything, when they were forced upon me. I was able to do shit that would make just about anyone f*cking puke, and I did it with almost no outward reaction. That shit sickens me so much. What the f*ck!!! I f*cking did that!!! I did all that shit!!! How the f*ck did I not f*cking vomit every other f*cking day? It's so f*cking disgusting. I am so f*cking disgusting!

It's just the tip of the iceberg, too. Nausea is an easy to give example.

PTSD isn't fair, and that's one of the most messed up things about it.

This right here. PTSD doesn't give a shit about your opinions, or what you want, or what you like, or anything. It just does its thing, no f*cks given.

How could people not condemn me for being so weak and pathetic that I couldn't save myself?

It didn't feel like I would get support at all.

This place has become one of my only "safe spaces" for discussing trauma-related things. Things that I can't tell other people, because they aren't going to get it and are going to judge me and shit - or at least that is my prevailing fear, which sometimes does get confirmed.

Even then, there are things that I still am too afraid to tell the people here. Maybe with time. Reading my old posts makes me feel hopeful in that I can see my own progress.

 

[Freida]

ng. I am so f*cking disgusting!

No. We did what we had to to survive. We will someday believe that as much as the people who endlessly blather on about it do.

I only puked once. Then he killed me because it pissed him off so much. Then he did cpr and brought me back so he could punish me for it. Then I did things I can't yet face. And I didn't puke again. I had learned my lesson. But someday I will have to face those things. Because I have to. Because I can't live like this anymore. Someday I have to forgive myself for being tough enough to do what I had to to survive. Someday I have to forgive myself for being tough enough to pick myself up ..put my uniform on and go to work. How could I do those horrible things and it didn't bother me?? how did I just mosey off to work and wait for him to shoot me? What kind of person was i?

sound familiar?

 

[Sweetleaf]

sound familiar?

Yeah, it reminds me of what I had going on.

Someday I have to forgive myself for being tough enough to pick myself up ..put my uniform on and go to work. How could I do those horrible things and it didn't bother me?? how did I just mosey off to work and wait for him to shoot me?

Isn't the mind kind of weird, how it can do that? How it can somehow deal with really f*cked up shit going on for some chunk of time, and in another chunk of time act as if nothing happened at all and everything is fine and there is no danger? Sometimes even during the f*cked up shit, it's as if none of it is going on at all, so I guess it isn't surprising that the brain would have some sort of defense mechanism, enabling someone to do normal stuff e.g. working, on top of surviving trauma.

Yeah I don't know what the f*ck that is, or how it works, but I worked -and didn't f*ck up- during the abuse. I mean, some days I would be preoccupied with what kind of situation I was going to come home to, but, generally, it was as if I like compartmentalized work and home. I don't know how to describe it. I enjoyed the shit out of work, too.

It's something I've thought of before - how the f*ck did I work then? Why can't I work now? Why can't I even tolerate public now?

I suppose not working enough -did- piss off the psycho, so, it was kind of a huge motivator now that I think of it. There was a time that I didn't work at all, and it was just him working, and holy shit - he really used that against me, and used it to f*ck with me and manipulate me. Then after I started working again, it really sucked when his abuse made me unable to work, because he'd still blame me for not working.

Sometimes I was afraid to leave him alone in the house, to his own devices, with no one around to talk him down. If left alone, sometimes he would escalate himself, so I would come home to someone who just spent like the entire day obsessing about things such as how much he hates me, or how much he wants to kill himself (or me, or us, or whoever or whatever else). Sometimes I'd come home to all sorts of destruction, or to immediate abuse, sometimes both.

It feels like some kind of dissociation that held at least during most of the years of trauma, letting me function in public or at work, until the end where I couldn't work anymore due to how bad he was getting.

They were all just tasks that I had to carry out in order to keep going, just like the abuse, I had to do that shit to survive. Yet, it still f*cks with me that I carried on during that as if nothing was going on, as if I wasn't in danger.

I only puked once. Then he killed me because it pissed him off so much.

Well, that is definitely some shit. I'm sorry all that happened. But, you sharing that reminded me why it is okay that I didn't puke from any of the things I had to do, even if it makes me feel like some f*cked up person for being able to not puke. It was just a matter of survival. I had to not barf, in order to survive all of his shit. So I didn't do it, even if he was literally triggering my gag reflex in a physical manner, with his dick, or stuff coming out of it. Even if things got overpoweringly disgusting. "Mind over matter" I guess. He hated it enough when I would gag. I did not want to see what reaction vomiting would get.

Kinda unlocking some memories as I've been writing this.

More wonderful little treasures of memories, which I haven't thought of since they were happening, arising for the first time. Makes me feel nauseous writing this. It makes me feel so disgusting, both in a I-can't-believe-I-did-that way, and in a one-thousand-showers-couldn't-make-me-feel-clean-again sort of way.

Basically, he was making me participate in some really disgusting sex acts with him. One time it got extra disgusting, more than normal.

I amazingly, somehow didn't puke in the moment, I didn't let myself, despite how disgusting and overloading to my senses it (not going to say what it is) was. My abuser couldn't handle it though, and he puked. which would be funny if not for the fact that that made things so much worse for me, and so much more disgusting and vile. That didn't make me vomit. Like, having vomit on me - not to mention the thing that made him vomit, which was something so very, very repulsive, and on me - all that and I didn't vomit. I actually started laughing like a f*cking -maniac- or something. I couldn't control myself. It was too much. He was retching, I was laughing. His continuous retching made me want to barf, on top of everything else. I started singing loudly, so that I didn't barf. My abuser made me clean it all up. I struggled through it and got it done. I know that I had to do it really fast, as fast as possible. I don't even remember what came after.

I feel really horrible about this, just, so unclean. Also I can't help but feel like I'm going to be judged or mocked or disbelieved for writing this :(

I am having a really hard time hitting the post button. This post has sat for a while.