PearBlossom
Bronze Member
Hi all,
This is my first time in any kind of PTSD support group. I was diagnosed 16 years ago and thought the therapist had no idea what she was talking about. I'm not a vet. But it has become increasingly clear that the therapist back then was correct and now it's just gotten really, really, really bad.
My parents divorced when I was about 2yo. I had a 6mo old brother at the time. I'm not sure if it was because my mother found out that my father sexually abused me, or if my father abused me soon thereafter. I know I was about 2-3yo. Mom is a bipolar alcoholic who has really refused to talk much about the whole thing other than to acknowledge that it could've happened when I asked her. I did that because I had a recurring nightmare about the abuse, and one day in my early 20s I woke up and thought "Oh my god... that isn't a nightmare--it's a memory." I NEVER had that nightmare again (although I have plenty of fine replacements since. :( ).
I live with bipolar, alcoholic, promiscuous, often absent mom until I left her at 12yo. My brother went with me to live with our dad. I left mom and my younger, then-5yo half-brother that I had helped raise from infancy--waking at night to feed and diaper him when mom was passed out from her night of "meeting clients" (she actually wound up working a respectable job when I was about 4yo but was a full-on mess otherwise. I don't know how she managed at work given her off-hours activities (what I know of it). She did wind up engaged to the black man that owned the company she worked for (which resulted in the birth of the brother I cared for) after a few nights of waking up to men fighting over her in the living room. She was physically abusive--sometimes because I was seen as misbehaving because I asked for permission for something while she was still in a blackout period. In retrospect, I have absolutely no idea how the state didn't remove us. And I say this having worked in the foster care system and truly knowing the rules that dictate removal vs. restore services. There's no question we were absolutely removal-worthy. At one point, mom landed in a mental health facility and didn't call anyone. I called my grandmother when she still wasn't home after a day or two. We were the only white family in the neighborhood and her engagement to a black man (my half-brother's dad) appears to have sparked her being raped in our living room by the older teen brother of one of my friends down the street. She had no credibility and he was let free--resulting in a move from our home so fast that almost everything I owned was left behind.
I remember spanking my brother when he was 2yo. And feeling relief and comfort that he wanted me to comfort him. Just horrifying. I don't know if I spanked him because I couldn't handle whatever stress of the situations or if I spanked him to get him to hug me. Either is a likely scenario. That brother is in his early 30s and is a profoundly scary man. A brilliant sociopath. I try really hard to console myself with the fact that I was just a child doing the best I could but it's painful to think of the people he's hurt.
Having repressed the memories of my sexual abuse, I left my mother's house and moved in with my dad (and my brother). We didn't know back then, but we know now that my insulin disorder existed then and contributed GREATLY to my poor mental health. But at the time, it seemed logical that it was the result of my upbringing--possibly exacerbated by some inherited component of my mother's bipolar disorder. It was an absolute nightmare. For everyone in my house. Most of them have never forgiven me or looked at me other than how I was back then. Maybe it was too traumatic for them.
So I entered therapy at 14 through my high school (they had therapists on-staff that did after-hours family therapy). Two weeks before high school graduation, I had a breakdown and the school facilitated my removal from my father's home. I was 18 and two weeks from graduating. At that point, I guess they felt it wasn't worth getting the state involved if they could ensure I was out of his grip through graduation... which was a strong, strong contingency of letting me leave the school that day. My father was not only completely obsessed with me, but inappropriate. Not in a sexual way. It's hard to explain. When I was 12yo he pressured me to get a nose job so that I would be perfect. While I lived with him, he often treated me like a wife instead of a child (not with the chore types, but with the kinds of life stories he shared with me--which were too mature and personal). He also reiterated to me over and over that if anything ever happened to me, he would kill himself. I was afraid to live. And he was horrifying to my brother. Just hated him. I loved my brother and tried to argue about this with my father, but it never changed.
I finally cut most of my family out of my life. I haven't spoken to or seen my mother in 6 years. Haven't spoken to or seen my father in 7 years. I honestly don't know the last time I've actually seen the brother I raised to age 5, but I had contact with him last year related to getting some family pictures (of his kids). Recently, I went through an 8-week training on attachment to help one of my children and the exercises really put across how very, very traumatic my childhood was in a way I had never really seen it before. My early years, I was passed around from household to household and kept safe and fed, but not much else (and not likely always safe--one of my nightmares that has never left is a memory of a drunk uncle chasing my aunt around their apartment trying to beat her as she held her infant son when I was 4yo. My brother and I slept in her closet.) I was always--straight through adulthood--a burden that people tolerated if they couldn't outright ignore me. There is seriously never a day I miss these people.
But needless to say, a lot of typical married life with kids stuff triggers me. I've been in therapy for 24 years. For a LOT of those years, I was on various anti-depressants. NONE of them worked. I landed myself in a mental health inpatient program when I was about 19 after an unwanted abortion (I was homeless at that time and had ZERO support). I've twice had to take mental health disability from my jobs and now knowing that my PTSD diagnosis is real, I'm seeing the connection.
And there have been subsequent significant traumas in my life. Four that I can think of related to my childhood issues in a rather profound way. I'm wondering if those subsequent traumas may have affected me harder because they were so clearly similar, or maybe exacerbated the condition. I seem to be far less functional since those things than I ever was. I used to hold it together for long periods of time and now I can barely manage to get more than 2-3 days without falling apart.
I dread going back to therapy. I feel like nobody understands. I feel like there is SO MUCH OF MY DAILY LIFE triggering me. And I feel like I have to leave my husband because he is the worst of triggering me. He doesn't mean to, but he can't manage to change who he is and who he is plays on my issues in a way that got to making me suicidal for the first time in my life last year (I have never been like that, and have systems in place now in case it ever happens again--but I don't think it will because I've also got more coping practices in place to keep from getting that bad again).
I've never met anyone else with this kind of situation. I don't know if it's reasonable to think my marriage could be saved. But I'm beyond worn out trying. And I'm really, really angry and bitter about the whole thing.
Thanks so much if you've read all of this. I purposely did NOT read other intros first. I needed to get this out. I'm not sure if it's too long or not the place for an intro. I'll probably go look now and edit as needed. But thank you so much for listening.
--PB
This is my first time in any kind of PTSD support group. I was diagnosed 16 years ago and thought the therapist had no idea what she was talking about. I'm not a vet. But it has become increasingly clear that the therapist back then was correct and now it's just gotten really, really, really bad.
My parents divorced when I was about 2yo. I had a 6mo old brother at the time. I'm not sure if it was because my mother found out that my father sexually abused me, or if my father abused me soon thereafter. I know I was about 2-3yo. Mom is a bipolar alcoholic who has really refused to talk much about the whole thing other than to acknowledge that it could've happened when I asked her. I did that because I had a recurring nightmare about the abuse, and one day in my early 20s I woke up and thought "Oh my god... that isn't a nightmare--it's a memory." I NEVER had that nightmare again (although I have plenty of fine replacements since. :( ).
I live with bipolar, alcoholic, promiscuous, often absent mom until I left her at 12yo. My brother went with me to live with our dad. I left mom and my younger, then-5yo half-brother that I had helped raise from infancy--waking at night to feed and diaper him when mom was passed out from her night of "meeting clients" (she actually wound up working a respectable job when I was about 4yo but was a full-on mess otherwise. I don't know how she managed at work given her off-hours activities (what I know of it). She did wind up engaged to the black man that owned the company she worked for (which resulted in the birth of the brother I cared for) after a few nights of waking up to men fighting over her in the living room. She was physically abusive--sometimes because I was seen as misbehaving because I asked for permission for something while she was still in a blackout period. In retrospect, I have absolutely no idea how the state didn't remove us. And I say this having worked in the foster care system and truly knowing the rules that dictate removal vs. restore services. There's no question we were absolutely removal-worthy. At one point, mom landed in a mental health facility and didn't call anyone. I called my grandmother when she still wasn't home after a day or two. We were the only white family in the neighborhood and her engagement to a black man (my half-brother's dad) appears to have sparked her being raped in our living room by the older teen brother of one of my friends down the street. She had no credibility and he was let free--resulting in a move from our home so fast that almost everything I owned was left behind.
I remember spanking my brother when he was 2yo. And feeling relief and comfort that he wanted me to comfort him. Just horrifying. I don't know if I spanked him because I couldn't handle whatever stress of the situations or if I spanked him to get him to hug me. Either is a likely scenario. That brother is in his early 30s and is a profoundly scary man. A brilliant sociopath. I try really hard to console myself with the fact that I was just a child doing the best I could but it's painful to think of the people he's hurt.
Having repressed the memories of my sexual abuse, I left my mother's house and moved in with my dad (and my brother). We didn't know back then, but we know now that my insulin disorder existed then and contributed GREATLY to my poor mental health. But at the time, it seemed logical that it was the result of my upbringing--possibly exacerbated by some inherited component of my mother's bipolar disorder. It was an absolute nightmare. For everyone in my house. Most of them have never forgiven me or looked at me other than how I was back then. Maybe it was too traumatic for them.
So I entered therapy at 14 through my high school (they had therapists on-staff that did after-hours family therapy). Two weeks before high school graduation, I had a breakdown and the school facilitated my removal from my father's home. I was 18 and two weeks from graduating. At that point, I guess they felt it wasn't worth getting the state involved if they could ensure I was out of his grip through graduation... which was a strong, strong contingency of letting me leave the school that day. My father was not only completely obsessed with me, but inappropriate. Not in a sexual way. It's hard to explain. When I was 12yo he pressured me to get a nose job so that I would be perfect. While I lived with him, he often treated me like a wife instead of a child (not with the chore types, but with the kinds of life stories he shared with me--which were too mature and personal). He also reiterated to me over and over that if anything ever happened to me, he would kill himself. I was afraid to live. And he was horrifying to my brother. Just hated him. I loved my brother and tried to argue about this with my father, but it never changed.
I finally cut most of my family out of my life. I haven't spoken to or seen my mother in 6 years. Haven't spoken to or seen my father in 7 years. I honestly don't know the last time I've actually seen the brother I raised to age 5, but I had contact with him last year related to getting some family pictures (of his kids). Recently, I went through an 8-week training on attachment to help one of my children and the exercises really put across how very, very traumatic my childhood was in a way I had never really seen it before. My early years, I was passed around from household to household and kept safe and fed, but not much else (and not likely always safe--one of my nightmares that has never left is a memory of a drunk uncle chasing my aunt around their apartment trying to beat her as she held her infant son when I was 4yo. My brother and I slept in her closet.) I was always--straight through adulthood--a burden that people tolerated if they couldn't outright ignore me. There is seriously never a day I miss these people.
But needless to say, a lot of typical married life with kids stuff triggers me. I've been in therapy for 24 years. For a LOT of those years, I was on various anti-depressants. NONE of them worked. I landed myself in a mental health inpatient program when I was about 19 after an unwanted abortion (I was homeless at that time and had ZERO support). I've twice had to take mental health disability from my jobs and now knowing that my PTSD diagnosis is real, I'm seeing the connection.
And there have been subsequent significant traumas in my life. Four that I can think of related to my childhood issues in a rather profound way. I'm wondering if those subsequent traumas may have affected me harder because they were so clearly similar, or maybe exacerbated the condition. I seem to be far less functional since those things than I ever was. I used to hold it together for long periods of time and now I can barely manage to get more than 2-3 days without falling apart.
I dread going back to therapy. I feel like nobody understands. I feel like there is SO MUCH OF MY DAILY LIFE triggering me. And I feel like I have to leave my husband because he is the worst of triggering me. He doesn't mean to, but he can't manage to change who he is and who he is plays on my issues in a way that got to making me suicidal for the first time in my life last year (I have never been like that, and have systems in place now in case it ever happens again--but I don't think it will because I've also got more coping practices in place to keep from getting that bad again).
I've never met anyone else with this kind of situation. I don't know if it's reasonable to think my marriage could be saved. But I'm beyond worn out trying. And I'm really, really angry and bitter about the whole thing.
Thanks so much if you've read all of this. I purposely did NOT read other intros first. I needed to get this out. I'm not sure if it's too long or not the place for an intro. I'll probably go look now and edit as needed. But thank you so much for listening.
--PB
