I know I'm not the first one or the last one to say that I was sexually abused by a nurse at age seven. Alongside forcing me to say out loud, that I was awful, disgusting, not lovable and pathetic. It is deeply embedded in me as an adult. I went from being a tech-savvy entrepreneur and being a college student who is driven to losing everything. Losing sight of who I was, my worth and loathing myself so much, that I can envision beating the life out of the little kid who couldn't walk as a kid.
I thought I was finally improving a little.
Context: I have a new therapist now. She's fantastic and she just brightens my mood because her personality is always so cheerful, so when I do feel down, it's something I can look forward to. My former business partner came to me with an idea; I went for it. But as I opened up to him about by PTSD and other personality-changing symptoms, we both realize that as leaders, I couldn't and wouldn't be a wise choice like before.
Truth: I lied to myself, hoping that I could get myself to finally work, or just even plan, for now -- but no. I left my last job because my employer looked and reminded me so much of my abuser. My new therapist gave me the faith in myself that I could try out new things and eventually get back on my feet. Which of course, is great, because my other therapists looked at me as though I were a liar just seeking for attention, so I never went back to therapy until recently.
I'm a guy. I guess for men it's different, but it's the first time in my life that I started crying, almost to the point of wanting to end my own life, seeing the anger in my own eyes at myself. What stopped me was the faith and good feeling I got from going to this new therapist. It's like the "Disney World" for mental health. When you're around positive people, you also become happier and want better things. After all, CBT is based on the idea that if you can change how you think, you'll also change how you act and behave. So, I came here. I realize that I'm not unique and I don't have anything special about me. That's fine, I'm no Clark Kent. I realize I'm not particularly worthy of anything. But all I've ever wanted was a happily ever-after. For someone to say "I'm proud." My own mother blames me for what happened. She says that "it's not real abuse." I don't value money. In fact, I hate it. A piece of paper controls the entire world. I just like helping people. But if I can't do anything, if I can't work, can't be fully honest with my therapist and lie to myself, then it's a limbo. I'm going in circles and I won't get better.
The Worst: I can't actually have kids anymore. I went to get tested a few months ago, and the D. questioned if I had any bad "sexual experience." I denied it, but he figured I was in denial and apologized. Apparently, even though I remember vaguely, the nurse had also did something bad to "the area" which ceased my ability to have children.
My old psychiatrist once told me "Your PTSD is forever. But how you control them are up to the work you're willing to do. What you have to do is learn to manage it. Therapy, is not life-long, but it's as long as you want it to be." I feel like a needy person for saying it, but I don't actually ever want therapy to end. Because, at the end of the day, there's a no-judgement bond between two people, a place for safety and guidance. The question here is, what do I hate more? Myself, or the fact that I can't be fully open. The little kid in my head says "You're unique because you're you. You don't need to have any particular skillset. But love yourself enough to be honest and all will unfold." Sometimes, I see so much hate in my eyes, I think I'm genuinely evil to myself. I'm the "Lex Luthor" in my own life, but am willing to help others instead of myself. That's stupid, I know, because if I'm dead, then... well, zombies don't help people. So, I guess I'm wondering is, for those who did hang on after their 20s, has life gotten better? Any advice?
I thought I was finally improving a little.
Context: I have a new therapist now. She's fantastic and she just brightens my mood because her personality is always so cheerful, so when I do feel down, it's something I can look forward to. My former business partner came to me with an idea; I went for it. But as I opened up to him about by PTSD and other personality-changing symptoms, we both realize that as leaders, I couldn't and wouldn't be a wise choice like before.
Truth: I lied to myself, hoping that I could get myself to finally work, or just even plan, for now -- but no. I left my last job because my employer looked and reminded me so much of my abuser. My new therapist gave me the faith in myself that I could try out new things and eventually get back on my feet. Which of course, is great, because my other therapists looked at me as though I were a liar just seeking for attention, so I never went back to therapy until recently.
I'm a guy. I guess for men it's different, but it's the first time in my life that I started crying, almost to the point of wanting to end my own life, seeing the anger in my own eyes at myself. What stopped me was the faith and good feeling I got from going to this new therapist. It's like the "Disney World" for mental health. When you're around positive people, you also become happier and want better things. After all, CBT is based on the idea that if you can change how you think, you'll also change how you act and behave. So, I came here. I realize that I'm not unique and I don't have anything special about me. That's fine, I'm no Clark Kent. I realize I'm not particularly worthy of anything. But all I've ever wanted was a happily ever-after. For someone to say "I'm proud." My own mother blames me for what happened. She says that "it's not real abuse." I don't value money. In fact, I hate it. A piece of paper controls the entire world. I just like helping people. But if I can't do anything, if I can't work, can't be fully honest with my therapist and lie to myself, then it's a limbo. I'm going in circles and I won't get better.
The Worst: I can't actually have kids anymore. I went to get tested a few months ago, and the D. questioned if I had any bad "sexual experience." I denied it, but he figured I was in denial and apologized. Apparently, even though I remember vaguely, the nurse had also did something bad to "the area" which ceased my ability to have children.
My old psychiatrist once told me "Your PTSD is forever. But how you control them are up to the work you're willing to do. What you have to do is learn to manage it. Therapy, is not life-long, but it's as long as you want it to be." I feel like a needy person for saying it, but I don't actually ever want therapy to end. Because, at the end of the day, there's a no-judgement bond between two people, a place for safety and guidance. The question here is, what do I hate more? Myself, or the fact that I can't be fully open. The little kid in my head says "You're unique because you're you. You don't need to have any particular skillset. But love yourself enough to be honest and all will unfold." Sometimes, I see so much hate in my eyes, I think I'm genuinely evil to myself. I'm the "Lex Luthor" in my own life, but am willing to help others instead of myself. That's stupid, I know, because if I'm dead, then... well, zombies don't help people. So, I guess I'm wondering is, for those who did hang on after their 20s, has life gotten better? Any advice?
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