This is my first post, and I'm really afraid that I might post this in the wrong place, but oh well, here we go..
I'v basically been telling myself for 10 years now that this is nothing serious, I shouldn't be upset about it. Been screaming to myself "stop it stop it stop it stop thinking about it" even though it can't be controlled.
I have not let out a word, because I simply can't speak about it. I find no words, I forgot how to speak. Besides, people wouldn't listen. They wouldn't care. It's not a big deal, they wouldn't know. And they would find be weird and disgusting probably.
But I'm giving this a try now... Completly anonymously.
When I was younger I suffered from anxiety and probably depression.. My aunts could be very mean to me. I was about 4-6 years old at the time. This leading to me desperatly seeking for attention, not obvious "hey everybody look at me!!!"- attention. No, I would make myself sick. I would splash nail polish remover in my eyes, throw myself on the ground, drive my bicycle into trees and such. So people would see me.
Again, I was about 6 at this time, so I was pretty small, but I still knew what I was doing and that what I was doing was wrong. And I was ashamed, I really was.
I then started complaining about stomach pains to my mother.. She would always get mad when I complained. She really would. But I kept complaining to get to the ER. To get attention, please please please give me attention.
And she eventually took me there. They asked if I could go to the bathroom and I answered that I could, nothing wrong with that. Then my doctor and my mom decided that I should have an enema, me not knowing what it was asked, and when they told me I was absolutely terrified. Besides, I told them that this wasn't constipation, I could go to the bathroom and such. But no, I was going to have one no matter what.
I once again told my mother that I refused to and she went mental at started screaming at me, telling me that they would NEVER EVER figure out what's wrong with me. I still refused and told them that that wouldn't help, and one thing led to another and they held me down.. And well. Yes.
After that I was so sad, I felt so bad, my stomach hurt and like I was told constipation wasn't the case. And I was really mad and I had TOLD them that it wasn't before and they still forced me to. My mom then blew me off saying that it could have been.
This procedure was repeated a few times, but then I stopped complaining about pains and being sick. And I still do, even though I'm an adult now I get terrified by getting stomach cramps. I would litterly jump off a bridge instead of seeking help for it.
I developed BPD later in my life and have been a selfharmer for about 5 years now.. If that is relevant. I can handle being in a restraint bed, being held down and drugged. But thinking of this? No, I f*cking panic and go mental. Bash my head against the walls to stop thinking.. I also get really mad at my mother when I think of it, her not listening to me and getting pissed when I told her I didn't want to.
Nowadays I can't hear children crying, because I remember my own and so on.
I can't write anymore now, I feel so stupid and childish.
Please don't be mean, this is my first time telling this.
My question is, is this a "legit" trauma? Do I have the right to react so strongly thinking about it?
I'v basically been telling myself for 10 years now that this is nothing serious, I shouldn't be upset about it. Been screaming to myself "stop it stop it stop it stop thinking about it" even though it can't be controlled.
I have not let out a word, because I simply can't speak about it. I find no words, I forgot how to speak. Besides, people wouldn't listen. They wouldn't care. It's not a big deal, they wouldn't know. And they would find be weird and disgusting probably.
But I'm giving this a try now... Completly anonymously.
When I was younger I suffered from anxiety and probably depression.. My aunts could be very mean to me. I was about 4-6 years old at the time. This leading to me desperatly seeking for attention, not obvious "hey everybody look at me!!!"- attention. No, I would make myself sick. I would splash nail polish remover in my eyes, throw myself on the ground, drive my bicycle into trees and such. So people would see me.
Again, I was about 6 at this time, so I was pretty small, but I still knew what I was doing and that what I was doing was wrong. And I was ashamed, I really was.
I then started complaining about stomach pains to my mother.. She would always get mad when I complained. She really would. But I kept complaining to get to the ER. To get attention, please please please give me attention.
And she eventually took me there. They asked if I could go to the bathroom and I answered that I could, nothing wrong with that. Then my doctor and my mom decided that I should have an enema, me not knowing what it was asked, and when they told me I was absolutely terrified. Besides, I told them that this wasn't constipation, I could go to the bathroom and such. But no, I was going to have one no matter what.
I once again told my mother that I refused to and she went mental at started screaming at me, telling me that they would NEVER EVER figure out what's wrong with me. I still refused and told them that that wouldn't help, and one thing led to another and they held me down.. And well. Yes.
After that I was so sad, I felt so bad, my stomach hurt and like I was told constipation wasn't the case. And I was really mad and I had TOLD them that it wasn't before and they still forced me to. My mom then blew me off saying that it could have been.
This procedure was repeated a few times, but then I stopped complaining about pains and being sick. And I still do, even though I'm an adult now I get terrified by getting stomach cramps. I would litterly jump off a bridge instead of seeking help for it.
I developed BPD later in my life and have been a selfharmer for about 5 years now.. If that is relevant. I can handle being in a restraint bed, being held down and drugged. But thinking of this? No, I f*cking panic and go mental. Bash my head against the walls to stop thinking.. I also get really mad at my mother when I think of it, her not listening to me and getting pissed when I told her I didn't want to.
Nowadays I can't hear children crying, because I remember my own and so on.
I can't write anymore now, I feel so stupid and childish.
Please don't be mean, this is my first time telling this.
My question is, is this a "legit" trauma? Do I have the right to react so strongly thinking about it?
