M
Mika<3
I've been on this forum about a week now, and I guess its time for me to give an introduction and share my story as you all so bravely did too. My PTSD stretches over so many different topics that I have been handed from one therapist to another because they quite honestly didn't feel qualified to deal with me.
So here's the story:
My parents are both severely mentally ill, My father suffers from schizophrenia and lives permanently in a sheltered home, and my mother suffers from multiple personality disorder and PTSD herself. Needless to say my childhood was traumatic and weird and unconventional. When I was 9 years old we became homeless, and even once we finally got somewhere to live again we remained poverty stricken for the rest of my childhood until I left home. I didn't know it wasnt normal to only eat once a day.
When I was 12 My mother remarried a much younger man, who was extremely abusive. From the ages of 12 - 17 I had to watch my mother being beaten and blackened, listen to her being raped in the other room, and install padlocks in my bedroom so that I could keep my sisters safe from harms way. I protected my family as best I could from this evil man. none of my sisters or I were ever physically harmed by him, because I slept with a knife under my pillow and if he ever got aggressive with them I would intervene. I was extremely violent and brave. I had to be. but my mother was not so brave. I took it upon myself to care for both my younger sisters and see that they had everything they needed. I dropped out of school because my sister developed a brain tumor and had to undergo brain surgery in which she almost died and spent 2 months in ICU. All this time my step father was beating my mother and she was fearing for her childs life, so I had to take over the role of parent to my youngest sister. There was no space in my life for education any more.
When I was 10 my mother started worked at a live in job, and one of her co-workers turned out to be a paedophile and child pornographer. My younger sister and I were both involved in the scandal. This was the first time I experienced sexual abuse but this lay dormant until I became sexually active in my teens, because my mother carefully sheltered us so that I did not realise that what had happened was terrible. I know it might be strange but I thank her for this, because I spent my childhood never knowing I was abused. peaceful.
The 2nd and 3rd incident of sexual abuse occurred when I was 15 and still a virgin, Id just barely had my first kiss 3 months ago. I was experimenting with alcohol and all my friends were boys. I was so intoxicated that I could not walk talk or move. One of my friends molested me that night, and then about an hour later my best friend raped me at his house. I lived in a small town and gossip spread fast, so to protect myself from the slut shaming that would follow I told everyone the boys were victims of disgusting rumours and it was a lie. Their families and friends still to this day don't know the truth.
The 4th incident happened at a house party at my own house. I was 17 and my parents were out of town. My mothers 20-something year old tenant in the cottage on our property came in to my home and sexually assaulted me. It didn't get to full penetration because a friend of mine found us and saved me.
The 5th time happened near my 18th Birthday. I was drugged at a night club, taken to his car, and raped right there in the street, multiple times over the night by a much older man.
I never reported any of these incidents because I lived in South Africa were rape victims are almost always treated like it was their fault, I even believed it was my own fault.
3 months after my 18th Birthday I tried to kill myself, the day after I'd spent the night listening to my mother being chocked and beaten whilst being raped by my step father. I was physically dragged to a psychiatric hospital by 2 police men and 2 paramedic were I spent 6 weeks in a lock down ward, safe from my family and safe from myself. I didnt want to leave. It was then that I was diagnosed with PTSD. But I was in no position to get therapy for it because I was still IN the abusive situation. I didnt believe it anyway. I wouldnt accept that the life I'd lived this far had really been abnormal. I was sure these symptoms would just go away and I'd be fine.
I met my current boyfriend 2 weeks after I was released from there. We fell in love almost immediately and after 3 months I moved in with him and started a new life. I was just 18 and I never told him about the ptsd because I was in denial myself. This resulted in the first 2 years of us being together becoming a living nightmare for me. I couldnt leave him because I could not go back to my family, but he just keep pushing all my triggers to the point were i just wanted to die. His family hate me and I have nothing to do with them because they dont understand what ptsd means. We stuck it out, and worked through it all, and now we've been together for almost 4 years, Im 22 years old, and my boyfriend is the biggest supporter in my life. He doesnt even get angry with me when I behave in unacceptable ways. he knows i dont mean it. We are working together to fix me and honestly the past 20 years of my life nothing good has happened to me, but with him I feel like its all over now and I actually have a bright future to look forward to.
I have no contact with my sisters or my step father and minimal contact with my mother, and at this stage, and I dont have 1 single friend left. But Ive started the process to get therapy now, and I am sure that somehow, once I learn how to interact with people again, trust again, and open my heart again, that things will get better.
I know this is long, so if you've read up to here, sincerely, thank you for taking the time to read my story.
So here's the story:
My parents are both severely mentally ill, My father suffers from schizophrenia and lives permanently in a sheltered home, and my mother suffers from multiple personality disorder and PTSD herself. Needless to say my childhood was traumatic and weird and unconventional. When I was 9 years old we became homeless, and even once we finally got somewhere to live again we remained poverty stricken for the rest of my childhood until I left home. I didn't know it wasnt normal to only eat once a day.
When I was 12 My mother remarried a much younger man, who was extremely abusive. From the ages of 12 - 17 I had to watch my mother being beaten and blackened, listen to her being raped in the other room, and install padlocks in my bedroom so that I could keep my sisters safe from harms way. I protected my family as best I could from this evil man. none of my sisters or I were ever physically harmed by him, because I slept with a knife under my pillow and if he ever got aggressive with them I would intervene. I was extremely violent and brave. I had to be. but my mother was not so brave. I took it upon myself to care for both my younger sisters and see that they had everything they needed. I dropped out of school because my sister developed a brain tumor and had to undergo brain surgery in which she almost died and spent 2 months in ICU. All this time my step father was beating my mother and she was fearing for her childs life, so I had to take over the role of parent to my youngest sister. There was no space in my life for education any more.
When I was 10 my mother started worked at a live in job, and one of her co-workers turned out to be a paedophile and child pornographer. My younger sister and I were both involved in the scandal. This was the first time I experienced sexual abuse but this lay dormant until I became sexually active in my teens, because my mother carefully sheltered us so that I did not realise that what had happened was terrible. I know it might be strange but I thank her for this, because I spent my childhood never knowing I was abused. peaceful.
The 2nd and 3rd incident of sexual abuse occurred when I was 15 and still a virgin, Id just barely had my first kiss 3 months ago. I was experimenting with alcohol and all my friends were boys. I was so intoxicated that I could not walk talk or move. One of my friends molested me that night, and then about an hour later my best friend raped me at his house. I lived in a small town and gossip spread fast, so to protect myself from the slut shaming that would follow I told everyone the boys were victims of disgusting rumours and it was a lie. Their families and friends still to this day don't know the truth.
The 4th incident happened at a house party at my own house. I was 17 and my parents were out of town. My mothers 20-something year old tenant in the cottage on our property came in to my home and sexually assaulted me. It didn't get to full penetration because a friend of mine found us and saved me.
The 5th time happened near my 18th Birthday. I was drugged at a night club, taken to his car, and raped right there in the street, multiple times over the night by a much older man.
I never reported any of these incidents because I lived in South Africa were rape victims are almost always treated like it was their fault, I even believed it was my own fault.
3 months after my 18th Birthday I tried to kill myself, the day after I'd spent the night listening to my mother being chocked and beaten whilst being raped by my step father. I was physically dragged to a psychiatric hospital by 2 police men and 2 paramedic were I spent 6 weeks in a lock down ward, safe from my family and safe from myself. I didnt want to leave. It was then that I was diagnosed with PTSD. But I was in no position to get therapy for it because I was still IN the abusive situation. I didnt believe it anyway. I wouldnt accept that the life I'd lived this far had really been abnormal. I was sure these symptoms would just go away and I'd be fine.
I met my current boyfriend 2 weeks after I was released from there. We fell in love almost immediately and after 3 months I moved in with him and started a new life. I was just 18 and I never told him about the ptsd because I was in denial myself. This resulted in the first 2 years of us being together becoming a living nightmare for me. I couldnt leave him because I could not go back to my family, but he just keep pushing all my triggers to the point were i just wanted to die. His family hate me and I have nothing to do with them because they dont understand what ptsd means. We stuck it out, and worked through it all, and now we've been together for almost 4 years, Im 22 years old, and my boyfriend is the biggest supporter in my life. He doesnt even get angry with me when I behave in unacceptable ways. he knows i dont mean it. We are working together to fix me and honestly the past 20 years of my life nothing good has happened to me, but with him I feel like its all over now and I actually have a bright future to look forward to.
I have no contact with my sisters or my step father and minimal contact with my mother, and at this stage, and I dont have 1 single friend left. But Ive started the process to get therapy now, and I am sure that somehow, once I learn how to interact with people again, trust again, and open my heart again, that things will get better.
I know this is long, so if you've read up to here, sincerely, thank you for taking the time to read my story.
