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- #13
D
Deleted member 29920
Thanks Yunie, Gadgie and KwanYinGirl for your kind words. Yesterday was particularly bad. Feeling a little better, thanks for your support.
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- #14
D
Deleted member 29920
Had to go to the shops this morning and it caused severe panic, anger and sadness. There is a marathon or something on, I didn't know. Seeing lots of people with families and friends all smiling just destroys me. I feel so alone. Sitting on the bathroom floor crying and typing this now. I just want to be well again. I don't want to be alone.
I didn't even manage to get everything I needed so it will just have to wait until another day when I feel strong enough again. I was so desperate to just get back indoors. Pathetic.
I didn't even manage to get everything I needed so it will just have to wait until another day when I feel strong enough again. I was so desperate to just get back indoors. Pathetic.
KwanYingirl
Diamond Member
You're not alone but you feel lonely. I get that. I'm so down on myself and don't feel worthy of good friends. It's easier to be alone.
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- #16
D
Deleted member 29920
The thing is, I only have one person in my life, so it's very difficult. I upset her when I got home yesterday because I was in mid panic attack and I have a vague memory of saying that I might as well not exist anymore. Obviously I didn't mean it, it's just that's how bad I was feeling, as if nothing will make it better. I have a lot of resentment. Why couldn't my family be kind to me the way other people's are? I feel like I've been left behind. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do now. I can't go back to my abusive family ever again for my own sanity. A lot of incest survivor literature says create your own family. How am I supposed to do that? I don't want children...
KwanYingirl
Diamond Member
Family can be anything you need it to be. I borrowed my friends mother to give me parenting advice. I spent holidays and vacations with them and they were very nurturing. Then I had my work family. The women I worked with and we were raising kids. I trusted them, laughed with them, cried with them. The celebrated my birthday. My family of origin did none of these things for me. f*ck them. I know where my support is.
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- #18
D
Deleted member 29920
Thanks KwanYinGirl, I'm beginning to understand how to create my own "family"... Seems difficult.
Past few days have been really tough for me. Intense flashbacks of one of the worst things my mother did to me. Just want to forget all of the things that happened. So tired of being stuck here, just wish I could wake one morning and be healthy again. Feel powerless. Wish I could enjoy life. Wish I could get away from here.
Past few days have been really tough for me. Intense flashbacks of one of the worst things my mother did to me. Just want to forget all of the things that happened. So tired of being stuck here, just wish I could wake one morning and be healthy again. Feel powerless. Wish I could enjoy life. Wish I could get away from here.
- Post starter
- #19
D
Deleted member 29920
I forgot to mention that I saw the psychiatrist on the 18th of September. She thinks I should take Effexor but due to one of my traumas (choking), I have problems swallowing tablets so any medicine I take has to be as an oral suspension so she said she'd have to ask if it can be made this way for me. That's almost three weeks ago but I haven't heard from her yet.
It's seven weeks since I was assessed by a psychologist who told me I need psychotherapy so I'm still waiting to hear about that too.
I'll attempt to type about some of my past now.
I was born in September 1983 in Bellshill Maternity, Scotland. My parents got married in August 1982. When I was born, my father was twenty and my mother was nineteen. They never had any other children. We lived on the top floor of a three storey block of flats in a "new town". It had two bedrooms and was quite small. My mother left my father when I was sixteen (she said she had wanted to do it for the past ten years). For four years after her leaving, I spent half the week at her new flat and half in his. When I was twenty he threw some of my bedroom furniture out (including my mattress) when I was at college one day and told me he was turning my room into his "chill out room". I didn't question or challenge him. I just stood in shock for a few moments and he went back to the living room. I don't understand why he done that. I didn't have a bedroom at my mother's so a friend offered to let me live with her, ten miles from their flats and I accepted her offer. My problems didn't end there though. (I'll explain later).
When my mother was pregnant with me she said I used to kick her very hard and she thought I was going to be a boy. She told me my name would have been Sean.
My mother told me that when I was a baby, I turned blue and couldn't breathe, they took me to the hospital. She said that they didn't know why it had happened. This is all she told me about it. She was often vague when she told me things.
Also according to her, on one occasion we were in the town centre and a group of teenage boys set off a firework which shot under my buggy. She said my father ran after them and shouted at them. No other information given.
And she told me that at the age of two, I choked on a lollipop. I don't remember it happening. She said it was a round, flat lollipop and it came off the stick when I was sucking on it and I started choking on it. She told me that my father turned me upside down and slapped my back and it came out. This was not the first time I would choke.
I remember her telling me they would dip my dummy in their red wine to make me sleepy. She said "you were such a quiet, well-behaved baby. You used to fall asleep with our records playing quite loud". They liked punk and goth music. One of the records they played while I was sleeping was "Eloise" by The Damned.
One of my earliest memories (around three or four years old) is of my mother kneeling in a corner of my parent's bedroom, on the carpet, wearing only a dressing gown . She had her back facing me and she was bending over and lifted her dressing gown up so I saw her private parts and she was laughing, wiggling her hips around with her legs open. I was standing at the side of their bed. She called my father while she was doing it, he came into the room, stood by the door and started laughing. All I could hear was the two of them laughing hysterically. I was confused about why they were laughing, I didn't understand. I remember she had a brown mark - a birthmark in a very intimate area. This is all I can remember about the incident.
I remember dancing in front of them on one occasion, pulling funny faces and trying to make them laugh (it used to work). I was about three. My mother said coldly, "you're not funny any more. You're too old for that". I felt incredibly sad and confused. I went to my bedroom alone.
When I began to be able to speak, my father confused me. He told me not to call him dad. I had to call him by his nickname. When I was about five I asked my mother why he wouldn't let me call him dad (because children at school had asked me why and had asked if he was my real dad (he is)). She said that he had said it made him feel old. He was only twenty five then. In the last year I concluded it was probably because he didn't want to be my father. I always called him by his stupid nickname and called her mum (I asked what to call her and she told me to call her "mum"). When I talk about them to people now, I don't call them these names. I've been calling them their first names.
I often felt unwanted and unwelcome. Especially in my parent's company.
It's seven weeks since I was assessed by a psychologist who told me I need psychotherapy so I'm still waiting to hear about that too.
I'll attempt to type about some of my past now.
I was born in September 1983 in Bellshill Maternity, Scotland. My parents got married in August 1982. When I was born, my father was twenty and my mother was nineteen. They never had any other children. We lived on the top floor of a three storey block of flats in a "new town". It had two bedrooms and was quite small. My mother left my father when I was sixteen (she said she had wanted to do it for the past ten years). For four years after her leaving, I spent half the week at her new flat and half in his. When I was twenty he threw some of my bedroom furniture out (including my mattress) when I was at college one day and told me he was turning my room into his "chill out room". I didn't question or challenge him. I just stood in shock for a few moments and he went back to the living room. I don't understand why he done that. I didn't have a bedroom at my mother's so a friend offered to let me live with her, ten miles from their flats and I accepted her offer. My problems didn't end there though. (I'll explain later).
When my mother was pregnant with me she said I used to kick her very hard and she thought I was going to be a boy. She told me my name would have been Sean.
My mother told me that when I was a baby, I turned blue and couldn't breathe, they took me to the hospital. She said that they didn't know why it had happened. This is all she told me about it. She was often vague when she told me things.
Also according to her, on one occasion we were in the town centre and a group of teenage boys set off a firework which shot under my buggy. She said my father ran after them and shouted at them. No other information given.
And she told me that at the age of two, I choked on a lollipop. I don't remember it happening. She said it was a round, flat lollipop and it came off the stick when I was sucking on it and I started choking on it. She told me that my father turned me upside down and slapped my back and it came out. This was not the first time I would choke.
I remember her telling me they would dip my dummy in their red wine to make me sleepy. She said "you were such a quiet, well-behaved baby. You used to fall asleep with our records playing quite loud". They liked punk and goth music. One of the records they played while I was sleeping was "Eloise" by The Damned.
One of my earliest memories (around three or four years old) is of my mother kneeling in a corner of my parent's bedroom, on the carpet, wearing only a dressing gown . She had her back facing me and she was bending over and lifted her dressing gown up so I saw her private parts and she was laughing, wiggling her hips around with her legs open. I was standing at the side of their bed. She called my father while she was doing it, he came into the room, stood by the door and started laughing. All I could hear was the two of them laughing hysterically. I was confused about why they were laughing, I didn't understand. I remember she had a brown mark - a birthmark in a very intimate area. This is all I can remember about the incident.
I remember dancing in front of them on one occasion, pulling funny faces and trying to make them laugh (it used to work). I was about three. My mother said coldly, "you're not funny any more. You're too old for that". I felt incredibly sad and confused. I went to my bedroom alone.
When I began to be able to speak, my father confused me. He told me not to call him dad. I had to call him by his nickname. When I was about five I asked my mother why he wouldn't let me call him dad (because children at school had asked me why and had asked if he was my real dad (he is)). She said that he had said it made him feel old. He was only twenty five then. In the last year I concluded it was probably because he didn't want to be my father. I always called him by his stupid nickname and called her mum (I asked what to call her and she told me to call her "mum"). When I talk about them to people now, I don't call them these names. I've been calling them their first names.
I often felt unwanted and unwelcome. Especially in my parent's company.
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- Post starter
- #20
D
Deleted member 29920
Today whilst talking with *, I was made aware or rather, reminded about my mother's fraudulent behaviour in the past regarding her holistic therapies and other things. She has committed several different crimes in her life and I don't doubt there are more I don't know about.
Anyway, when I was four in 1987, I went to playgroup a few times. Halloween, I remember sitting in the church with the other children. I was dressed all in black with a tail sewn on the back of my trousers and I think whiskers painted on my face in black eyeliner. I was meant to be a cat. We were sitting in a circle drinking milk and I think we all done that apple dooking (bobbing) thing. I remember not speaking at all and feeling awkward.
Another time we were meant to stand in trays of paint then walk it onto paper to make patterns. I didn't do it for some reason. I might have been too shy or worried about getting into trouble for doing it. I didn't get to go back after that, my mother wouldn't let me, she said it was because of another girl who was a "terror". Lynsey - all she was doing was running around, not doing anyone any harm, certainly she never hurt or upset me. So that was that, no more playgroup for me. I remember being confused about J's reason I couldn't go again. So it was back to being isolated with J all day.
An update about the Effexor: the psychiatrist wrote to me a few days ago and said that there will be a prescription of it ready for me. I am unsure if I have to go to my gp or the psychiatrist for it though because of the way she has worded the letter.
Tomorrow I have to let my letting agent into the flat I'm renting so that they can do an evaluation. This happened at the last place I was renting and shortly after, the owners decided to sell and I was served with a notice to quit. So I am expecting the same to happen again but I do not want to have to move again.
Apart from that, I have felt a bit more like my "old self" the past two or three days. It is the first time I have felt this way since I remembered the abuse last year. It is quite a good feeling.
Anyway, when I was four in 1987, I went to playgroup a few times. Halloween, I remember sitting in the church with the other children. I was dressed all in black with a tail sewn on the back of my trousers and I think whiskers painted on my face in black eyeliner. I was meant to be a cat. We were sitting in a circle drinking milk and I think we all done that apple dooking (bobbing) thing. I remember not speaking at all and feeling awkward.
Another time we were meant to stand in trays of paint then walk it onto paper to make patterns. I didn't do it for some reason. I might have been too shy or worried about getting into trouble for doing it. I didn't get to go back after that, my mother wouldn't let me, she said it was because of another girl who was a "terror". Lynsey - all she was doing was running around, not doing anyone any harm, certainly she never hurt or upset me. So that was that, no more playgroup for me. I remember being confused about J's reason I couldn't go again. So it was back to being isolated with J all day.
An update about the Effexor: the psychiatrist wrote to me a few days ago and said that there will be a prescription of it ready for me. I am unsure if I have to go to my gp or the psychiatrist for it though because of the way she has worded the letter.
Tomorrow I have to let my letting agent into the flat I'm renting so that they can do an evaluation. This happened at the last place I was renting and shortly after, the owners decided to sell and I was served with a notice to quit. So I am expecting the same to happen again but I do not want to have to move again.
Apart from that, I have felt a bit more like my "old self" the past two or three days. It is the first time I have felt this way since I remembered the abuse last year. It is quite a good feeling.
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- Post starter
- #21
D
Deleted member 29920
I confronted * thirteen days ago. One of the worst, most stupid things I have ever done. I would not be surprised at all if one day I find myself entirely alone in this world. My mother's abuse of me just keeps on going. I hate it.
Received opt in letter from psychotherapy two days ago. Rang them today to say I do still want an appointment. Secretary on holiday until next week so woman who answered will leave her a message.
Flashbacks, Dissociation, derealisation, gagging and skin picking have all increased recently. Sleeping bad again too. Deeper self sabotaging thoughts which I refuse to act on. I hope I'm not so much of a disaster that I won't be taken on by a psychotherapist.
Received opt in letter from psychotherapy two days ago. Rang them today to say I do still want an appointment. Secretary on holiday until next week so woman who answered will leave her a message.
Flashbacks, Dissociation, derealisation, gagging and skin picking have all increased recently. Sleeping bad again too. Deeper self sabotaging thoughts which I refuse to act on. I hope I'm not so much of a disaster that I won't be taken on by a psychotherapist.
KwanYingirl
Diamond Member
@Cj77 I also have gagging problems and trouble swallowing. I was often choked by my perp and also in my twenties I was strangled but lived. It has recently been brought to my attention that I often hold my hand covering my neck. Do you have any defense mechanisms for that? My therapist suggested I drink through a straw but it's still difficult to swallow. All the weird consequences of trauma.
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- #24
D
Deleted member 29920
@Gadgie, yes the flashbacks are horrible, they often seem to come for no apparent reason, very unpleasant.
@KwanYingirl, the gagging/choking sensations have been affecting me for a long time. I was throttled on two separate occasions by two different boys, when I was ten and then when I was sixteen. A male cousin also forcefully held a tree branch against my throat and threatened to kill me around age eleven. And I have choked on "food" twice - aged two on a lollipop and aged eight on a gobstopper (ironicly, yes). When I was twenty I had oral thrush due to a weak immune system and stress over my father kicking me out (for no reason) and my then - girlfriend cheating on me (including one night stands). Eating disorder (phobia) now - terrified of choking, so I don't eat solids, and need to get help with that (exposure program) but need therapy for the previous sexual, physical and emotional abuse first.
What happens when I'm really stressed is it is really difficult to swallow, feels like a massive effort and, my throat feels like it's closing up, I panic, sometimes have to spit out instead of swallow. Sometimes panic attacks so bad I just can't eat, can't finish my meal, have to try again later or have soup or smoothies. The gagging comes and goes. The last time was around August, went away after maybe three or four weeks but it always returns when stress levels get too high for me. I am aware that I also cough alot when I am stressed and clear my throat, like vocal tics.
I'm sorry you have gagging problems too. I think relaxation exercises - there are maybe some sort that would help with it, and maybe medication - don't know what ones. Probably the main thing though is to somehow process the traumas, experiences of being strangled /choking, I guess in talk therapy?
A feeling that you can't breathe or are choking is a common effect of anxiety. It's so unpleasant.
Hopefully we can get rid of it.
@KwanYingirl, the gagging/choking sensations have been affecting me for a long time. I was throttled on two separate occasions by two different boys, when I was ten and then when I was sixteen. A male cousin also forcefully held a tree branch against my throat and threatened to kill me around age eleven. And I have choked on "food" twice - aged two on a lollipop and aged eight on a gobstopper (ironicly, yes). When I was twenty I had oral thrush due to a weak immune system and stress over my father kicking me out (for no reason) and my then - girlfriend cheating on me (including one night stands). Eating disorder (phobia) now - terrified of choking, so I don't eat solids, and need to get help with that (exposure program) but need therapy for the previous sexual, physical and emotional abuse first.
What happens when I'm really stressed is it is really difficult to swallow, feels like a massive effort and, my throat feels like it's closing up, I panic, sometimes have to spit out instead of swallow. Sometimes panic attacks so bad I just can't eat, can't finish my meal, have to try again later or have soup or smoothies. The gagging comes and goes. The last time was around August, went away after maybe three or four weeks but it always returns when stress levels get too high for me. I am aware that I also cough alot when I am stressed and clear my throat, like vocal tics.
I'm sorry you have gagging problems too. I think relaxation exercises - there are maybe some sort that would help with it, and maybe medication - don't know what ones. Probably the main thing though is to somehow process the traumas, experiences of being strangled /choking, I guess in talk therapy?
A feeling that you can't breathe or are choking is a common effect of anxiety. It's so unpleasant.
Hopefully we can get rid of it.
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