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Mourning What Was Lost

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@spookedlife , I guess I react that way because I have the kind of automatic reaction of "it wasn't that bad", "it could have been worse", etc. Minimizing, I suppose. My T is kind of a big softy sometimes, I don't like the idea of him feeling sorry for me. (It really COULD have been worse, and I'm sure he sees a lot of people who had it worse.) I know what he means when he says "I think you were robbed." I tend to deal with that with, "It is what it is, drive on."
 
I agree with @BlackbirdSinging - you need to honour your losses by mourning them.

It can be hard for others to understand. I don't have PTSD but I have a daughter with high functioning autism. What that means is that I have not had a "normal" parenting experience. When I have tried to express this feeling of mourning I have been rebuked harshly for not being grateful for having a child at all or for not loving my child. So I don't say anything about it anymore. But that doesn't make it any less real.

There is a difference between mourning (which it sounds like is what you are doing) and wallowing in self pity about past event which cannot be changed. Sadly people often won't let you do the first for fear that you will do the second.

Hugs to you @Solara (if you're ok with that.)
 
Sadly people often won't let you do the first for fear that you will do the second.

There is a huge taboo in society against speaking openly about family dysfunction and childhood trauma. I can tell you my parents died in a drunk driving accident (hypothetical) but I can't tell you my father told me I'd never amount to sh*t. Don't go there! I guess it violates the cherished idea of man's innate goodness if some people can't even be good to their own children.
 
Yep. I was just sharing this kind of sadness with a friend. Some things are still a sharp kind of pain, but many of them have become a deep ache- a longing that things could be different that they were or are.

I actually feel this most right now about having been robbed of my virginity. There's an ache in my heart for that specific loss. And it's okay for me to mourn that... so long as it doesn't slip into self-pity, despair, or lies about what that loss means for the future.
 
@scout86 my therapist says the same thing. I feel that it is all somehow my fault. I don't know. I get what he is saying- that as a kid I shouldn't have been subjected to what I went through and I was robbed. If we were to talk about another kid going through similar things I would agree but I don't see where it isn't something that I deserved. Also, like you, I feel odd when he talks about the fact that it was so terrible. It couldn't have been worse. I am sure he has heard worse.

Sometimes I start to feel angry and cheated but it doesn't last long. I get scared. I don't know why. It's like I would get in trouble if I expressed that emotion.
 
Sometimes it feels like my heart is breaking. I used to not feel much of anything. Now that I can feel, I feel very, very sad sometimes.

A few years ago, when feelings were coming back after a life of numbness, I was listening to my sister-in-law talk about getting married when she was young and having children and describing this life of friends and family and travel, etc., and then - out of nowhere (I was shocked and embarrassed that this happened) - I burst into tears. I thought, I could have had a full life like that, but for this thing that I didn't know was PTSD once. I suddenly saw and felt how alone and lonely I had been all my life (I only met my husband when I was 49). I'd had almost no friends, though I was socially adept. No real intimate relationships though I was pursued. No passions or hobbies or travels. I avoided the people I grew up with who once knew me as a confident, fun loving, popular person. I felt ashamed for "changing", but of course it was involuntary. All I did was work and go home for 25 years.

I don't like to watch any shows with a wedding or happy women having children or all the things I missed out on. Not now anyway.

It was an awful life. It felt like a wasted life.

I am still very sad some days. I would rather not be, and just fully enjoy every day now that I am better, but my heart will literally begin to hurt, and my jaw feel thick and my feet fill with pins and needles until I cry hopefully, because then the pain goes away and I feel light and can enjoy my day.

I hate crying. But I hate worse when I can't cry because it hurts. If I will feel it - the grief - it goes away for a while.

I know most of this eventually will be processed and released, but it doesn't feel good. It doesn't feel good at all.
 
And I feel that in myself too, how I constantly belittle myself for having these feelings, like if I just hate myself enough then I'll snap out of it and get on with my life.

I have the same thing. But I realized that it's of a different origin, actually. ...In short, I've realized that I'm bound and determined to make myself miserable...because that's what I'm used to. I'm addicted to shame, misery, etc.

So much so, in fact...that I'll take over my abuser's role, if there aren't any around to make me feel that way.

I'm addicted to shame. And I'll manufacture my own "shame fix"...to keep me in the same state that I grew up in, and so, feel as though is "normal".

This was a blockbuster revelation to me...akin to the "first step" of the 12 steps of recovery....as in "until I admit I have a problem...I can't do anything about it". And my problem?...I'm addicted to shame.

Put things in perspective for me. Helped me get on the road to viewing that impulse as "the enemy"...all the better to label as such...and kick its ass as soon as it shows up again...instead of entertaining it.

One of the big things that bothers me is that I'm getting lonely, but am in no shape to try and be in a relationship with anyone.

Bingo. There's a saying..."Better to be alone than with the wrong people". And right now...it's a matter of the old Groucho Marx line..."I wouldn't join any club that would have me as a member." Yes, I'm lonely . But it's better than the alternative. Sometimes I have to just explain to myself...this isn't an ideal world...be grateful for what you have to be grateful for, for crying out loud...so at least you don't ruin what you have.

And explain it over, and over, and over...etc.

And that's part of my "disorder", I've had to come to realize...I left of maturing, emotionally, at the onset of my early life trauma...which means I still tend to see things in the all or nothing, black or white terms of the child. IE...Am I unhappy?...That's terrible, and unacceptable...NOW I'm going to be unhappy...about the fact that I have to be unhappy"

It helps to laugh at myself. When I have these moments...I'll often just say "Waaaaahhh!" like a child. To myself, of course. Kind of ridiculing the whole drama I'm lending to the situation. And have a short laugh at myself. That puts it in perspective. There are people in the world who go to bed hungry every night...have every night of their lives...and live in fear of persecution unto death. ...But I'm lonely!!!!! Puts it in perspective.

Sort of have a chuckle at my own expense...it lightens the mood...and I can go on, from that, with a renewed vigor...as though I've "dropped a rock" that I've been lugging around with me.

Thanks for your post.
 
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I guess I react that way because I have the kind of automatic reaction of "it wasn't that bad", "it could have been worse", etc. Minimizing, I suppose. My T is kind of a big softy sometimes, I don't like the idea of him feeling sorry for me.

Isn't therapy glorious?!! SO straightforward!!! ...(sarcasm break). :)

Anyway...I know exactly what you mean. And I think you're both right:

TO whit...your therapist is trying to be one of the few..maybe only...who's expressed support and solidarity in validating your experience....

and you...for your part...are refusing to "cave" to accepting a "victim status"...

Both exactly as you should, in my opinion. Kudos to you both.
 
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