Digz
Gold Member
It's difficult to begin such a story and a little weird to say, 'Hey, look what I've done!' But here's my story.
I was abused sexually and physically from as early as I can remember (3 or younger) by both my father and my grandfather. My mother was aware of the abuse and viewed me as sexual competition for my father - she was jealous and blamed me for stealing his 'attention', referring to me as a slut.
At one stage, at the age of about 7, I tried to fight back against my father and bit his arm when he tried to touch me. He broke my arm and almost drown me. In that moment, several 'me' were born.
Approximately seven years ago I was diagnosed with PTSD and DID. My memories that had been mostly repressed, came as massive flashback, slaps in the face. I was unable to function. I had to take leave from my job as a teacher for two years. During this time I struggled. There were several suicide attempts, consistent self-harm, several stints in hospital. I was so anxious about my past, I used to stand outside my therapist's office door, willing myself to be brave enough to go in... sometimes for half an hour.
Slowly but surely, I pushed myself just enough. I continued to see therapists regularly. I confronted the demons I did not want to confront. I read and re-read every book suggested and spent many hours working myself out - 'how on earth did my mind work?'
When my parents found out I remembered, they harassed me and made threats just subtle enough that I could not report them, but clear enough to say, 'don't tell anyone'.
Although it was so hard.... so unbelievably hard, I ignored them. I kept working in therapy. Eventually, I went back to work part-time. Then full-time. Then I was able to become pregnant and have a child. I found I was a different person at work. More stable. I could remember more. I could handle more. I was able to recognise and reason out my emotions more.
I won't pretend I'm 'cured'. I won't pretend there aren't times like when recently something was severely triggered and I had a couple of days off work. I guess my point is, in the beginning, that would have meant months, years off work. Now it's just 2 days. I'm still in therapy. I still have much to work on. But I wanted anyone who is in the earlier stages to know... if you just keep working, even though you feel like giving up every day... it does get better. Back then, when my therapist told me it would get better one day, I didn't believe him. Every second of every day I felt so bad, it was impossible to believe I would feel better. But I promise... it really DOES get better. The good days slowly become more frequent than the bad. The old memories slowly have less power. If you're DID like me, the different parts of you slowly learn to work together.
To anyone out there struggling, I hope this reassurance helps. Keep working. It will happen. You will succeed.
I was abused sexually and physically from as early as I can remember (3 or younger) by both my father and my grandfather. My mother was aware of the abuse and viewed me as sexual competition for my father - she was jealous and blamed me for stealing his 'attention', referring to me as a slut.
At one stage, at the age of about 7, I tried to fight back against my father and bit his arm when he tried to touch me. He broke my arm and almost drown me. In that moment, several 'me' were born.
Approximately seven years ago I was diagnosed with PTSD and DID. My memories that had been mostly repressed, came as massive flashback, slaps in the face. I was unable to function. I had to take leave from my job as a teacher for two years. During this time I struggled. There were several suicide attempts, consistent self-harm, several stints in hospital. I was so anxious about my past, I used to stand outside my therapist's office door, willing myself to be brave enough to go in... sometimes for half an hour.
Slowly but surely, I pushed myself just enough. I continued to see therapists regularly. I confronted the demons I did not want to confront. I read and re-read every book suggested and spent many hours working myself out - 'how on earth did my mind work?'
When my parents found out I remembered, they harassed me and made threats just subtle enough that I could not report them, but clear enough to say, 'don't tell anyone'.
Although it was so hard.... so unbelievably hard, I ignored them. I kept working in therapy. Eventually, I went back to work part-time. Then full-time. Then I was able to become pregnant and have a child. I found I was a different person at work. More stable. I could remember more. I could handle more. I was able to recognise and reason out my emotions more.
I won't pretend I'm 'cured'. I won't pretend there aren't times like when recently something was severely triggered and I had a couple of days off work. I guess my point is, in the beginning, that would have meant months, years off work. Now it's just 2 days. I'm still in therapy. I still have much to work on. But I wanted anyone who is in the earlier stages to know... if you just keep working, even though you feel like giving up every day... it does get better. Back then, when my therapist told me it would get better one day, I didn't believe him. Every second of every day I felt so bad, it was impossible to believe I would feel better. But I promise... it really DOES get better. The good days slowly become more frequent than the bad. The old memories slowly have less power. If you're DID like me, the different parts of you slowly learn to work together.
To anyone out there struggling, I hope this reassurance helps. Keep working. It will happen. You will succeed.