RuthieJujube
New Here
I am the youngest of 6 children, all of whom were severely abused. At least in my mind, the oldest were beaten the most, exposed the most to drugs, sexually violated the most ... But I am the one with PTSD. I am the one who couldn't handle it.
Many times while they were being beaten, I had to sit and watch. I couldn't help them, not even when I thought they might die. But the fact is: I wasn't them. I was just the witness.
Really, everyone in the family suffered so greatly growing up that by the time I came around, it was normal. The girls were raped. The boys were beaten. This was the rite of passage. And then we went to school or church, and it was as if nothing happened. It wasn't a topic. Why would anyone check in on me when I did well in school and didn't cause trouble?
All in the same year, Dad went to prison, our oldest brother died and Mom's boyfriend began terrorizing us. I feel selfish to say this but ... why was I never part of the conversation? It was Dad who was suffering, it was Mom who lost her son, it was Mom who had the mean boyfriend, it was brother who was beaten bloody. My bruises and my tears were inconvenient. They were emotional acting out.
But what about me?? No one ever asked if I was ok. No one ever thought the night terrors were abnormal. No one ever talked about the dark times again.
So I find myself thinking, why CAN'T you just get over it? What is so wrong with me that I can't cope with things that happened 20 years ago? My suffering is nothing. So I feel like nothing: a weak little girl shouting, "Please notice ME! It's really scary in here!"
Can anyone relate?
Many times while they were being beaten, I had to sit and watch. I couldn't help them, not even when I thought they might die. But the fact is: I wasn't them. I was just the witness.
Really, everyone in the family suffered so greatly growing up that by the time I came around, it was normal. The girls were raped. The boys were beaten. This was the rite of passage. And then we went to school or church, and it was as if nothing happened. It wasn't a topic. Why would anyone check in on me when I did well in school and didn't cause trouble?
All in the same year, Dad went to prison, our oldest brother died and Mom's boyfriend began terrorizing us. I feel selfish to say this but ... why was I never part of the conversation? It was Dad who was suffering, it was Mom who lost her son, it was Mom who had the mean boyfriend, it was brother who was beaten bloody. My bruises and my tears were inconvenient. They were emotional acting out.
But what about me?? No one ever asked if I was ok. No one ever thought the night terrors were abnormal. No one ever talked about the dark times again.
So I find myself thinking, why CAN'T you just get over it? What is so wrong with me that I can't cope with things that happened 20 years ago? My suffering is nothing. So I feel like nothing: a weak little girl shouting, "Please notice ME! It's really scary in here!"
Can anyone relate?