A lot of PTSD guides, help books, therapists etc say that one of the first steps to healing with PTSD is to imagine yourself as you were before the trauma, and to use that as a light to guide yourself back. "You are simply aiming to return to a pre-trauma existence to the greatest possible extent."
This always makes me incredibly sad, because I never had a pre-trauma existence. Well, maybe if you count age 5 to be pre-trauma. My first step-father was physically abusive, verbally domineering and treated my brothers and I as if we were military recruits. He would give us an impossible task, and then punish us (usually physically) for not completing the task. His idea of playing with us was to tie us into black garbage bags until we would start to panic, then he'd release us, laughing. Oh such a fun and amusing game that was. When a five year old has something that they really, really want, they should not be told that the only way they can get that, is by also accepting being spanked with a belt.
That alone wouldn't have caused my CPTSD, or even PTSD, but it does illustrate that my earliest memories involve trauma.
This often makes me think, who would I have been if I had never been abused? What life could I have had? I mourn that loss, and I grieve for that person because she never got to live, she never got to experience life or have a healthy relationship, to be a healthy person.
It is so very frustrating, and aggravating that on top of all the other work I have to do to live a normal life, that I also have to design a person to strive to be. Not only do I have to take into account what would make me happy, I have to take into account those traits that would make the lives of those I live with easier. Most people in a relationship strive to work on parts of themselves to reach a compromise with their partners, better at cleaning the house, being more considerate about turning out the light at bedtime or whatever. I have to work on those like any 'normal' person, but I also have to create a whole person out of a mess of mangled and twisted steel.
I feel like I'm trying to reshape a compact that's been mashed between two semi's, but that it has to be a Mustang when I'm done with it.
So here I am, this shadow of who I could have been, wondering who I would have been and wishing that she was here instead of me.
This always makes me incredibly sad, because I never had a pre-trauma existence. Well, maybe if you count age 5 to be pre-trauma. My first step-father was physically abusive, verbally domineering and treated my brothers and I as if we were military recruits. He would give us an impossible task, and then punish us (usually physically) for not completing the task. His idea of playing with us was to tie us into black garbage bags until we would start to panic, then he'd release us, laughing. Oh such a fun and amusing game that was. When a five year old has something that they really, really want, they should not be told that the only way they can get that, is by also accepting being spanked with a belt.
That alone wouldn't have caused my CPTSD, or even PTSD, but it does illustrate that my earliest memories involve trauma.
This often makes me think, who would I have been if I had never been abused? What life could I have had? I mourn that loss, and I grieve for that person because she never got to live, she never got to experience life or have a healthy relationship, to be a healthy person.
It is so very frustrating, and aggravating that on top of all the other work I have to do to live a normal life, that I also have to design a person to strive to be. Not only do I have to take into account what would make me happy, I have to take into account those traits that would make the lives of those I live with easier. Most people in a relationship strive to work on parts of themselves to reach a compromise with their partners, better at cleaning the house, being more considerate about turning out the light at bedtime or whatever. I have to work on those like any 'normal' person, but I also have to create a whole person out of a mess of mangled and twisted steel.
I feel like I'm trying to reshape a compact that's been mashed between two semi's, but that it has to be a Mustang when I'm done with it.
So here I am, this shadow of who I could have been, wondering who I would have been and wishing that she was here instead of me.