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Bookoffee

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This may seem off the wall, but is it hard to read other's threads? I try to read them for support but it hurts too much.

Then I start to think I don't belong here because I can't stop thinking that I may have lied about my trauma. Every time I try to post about a traumic event, I remember how I was treated by others and would tell me that I was lying. I become scared to release information about my trauma.

I think I may be over thinking again.
 
Hi Book,
I think the reason it hurts too much when you read other people's post is because you are a compassionate person, and you hurt when they hurt.
You say that you may have lied about your trauma. I don't think so, and here is why
The others that say you are lying, were they present when the trauma (s) happened? Somehow I don't think so.
Book, you and I have talked, and we are friends, and I know from talking to you the pain you feel is real.
Yes my friend, you do belong here, at a place where people understand your pain and can help you on your journey toward healing.
 
Ahhhh....so the lie is in the lie. What if someone (yourself or someone you cared about) actually believed you? How would that feel?

I honestly thought I was faking when my symptoms started coming out. I learned the truth through flashbacks and - well - crazy stuff. 3 or so years later I received documentation that proved that everything my adoptive and birth parents had told me as to my circumstances before the age of 2 was completely and utterly a lie. I didn't actually believe my flashbacks until I realized through the documentation that Children's Aid had for me - that my flashbacks and reactions were absolutely dead on. I had so many people look at me in disbelief while I was putting the pieces together. When they saw I was correct.....wow.

What if it were true? Then what?
 
@RussH, you always make me cry. Thank you

@shimmerz I have medical records as well. I never confronted anyone about the suspension of sexual abuse at the age of 4. I had already gone through many years of them accusing me of lying and making stories up for attention. I didn't want to add to their fire.
 
My stuff gets complicated. Not complex, complicated.

I see it as very simple. A whole bunch of messed up shit happened. And then I spent 5 years really f*cking shit up. And then 10 years that should have been crazy, but were drop dead normal in comparison. In fact, I call them good years (because they were). And then a few more years messing things up. All of which is very boring. If there is a cliche or a statistic, I'm sitting right in the very dull middle of it. Whee.

But other people both past/present, even having a piece of it tend to get very wild around the eyes. I have learned to keep my very boring past away from them. So I've been faking normal for years. Nothing to see here folks, move along.

But then, suddenly, I find myself actually being normal. Being with people who get it. But I'm so used to faking normal, so used to masks, I still feel like I'm faking shit. To say it creates some cognitive dissonance is like saying I have trust issues. Or that the pope is catholic. Pardon me, my head is in a blender. Also, since all good things in my life explode... I'm just waiting. Okay! When am I going to f*ck this one up?

Literally, every time I log on I look for a "banned" message. So I figured, f*ck it. Let's just do this shit. As much as we can, anyway, before they catch on that I'm nuts and kick me. (And then almost immediately retracted, and I've gone on a mission to find my balls. Helloooooooo? Chutzpah? Come. Back. Heel!) Still. Drafts sit.

ETA... Having thoroughly chastised myself, I just went to go post the damn draft. Bwaaaaaahahaha! It's deleted itself!!! :D :D :D Happy dance! Happy...Wait. I mean, that's bad. Baaaaaaad. Not like I sink my teeth into any reason to procrastinate, or anything. Sigh. Face palm.
 
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It is your truth that you are after, nobody else's.

This is what I am starting to learn. I sometimes live in a fantasy world that if the truth were to be exposed that they will come running to me with love, respect and apologies.

Time to grow up and face the facts.
 
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