SleeveHeart...A Written Timeline


One of my goals is to start writing and sharing my work more.

I am a survivor of trauma and am undergoing a metamorphosis to become an overcomer.

One thing I really want to work on is sharing my writing. I love to write little stories. I might also post diary entries.

Thank you :)
December 27, 2021

For some reason, I felt compelled to drink wine tonight. I felt drunk the whole day already, most likely dissociated.

It would be nice not to be so goddamn an*l all the time. Not to be so goddamn put together. To be a f*cking mess. How must it feel to be a f*cking mess? I wonder if it feels nice. To eat breakfast with a metal straw and drink out of a pot. To mix drinks to cure yourself. Must be nice.

I could hear the self hatred spewing out from that part of me that wanted it to work with this guy. We'll call him 5 o'clock (he has a five o'clock shadow and the darkest undereye bags I have ever seen). Five seemed promising. Five seemed nice. Five said all the right things, and in the end, he still left. To where? I don't know. Maybe I'm overanalyzing things, but he's gone. He hasn't replied in a day. I guess time apart in relationships is now measured in the hours between text messages.

I feel embarrassed every single time I tell someone exactly how I feel. It feels stupid. Aren't they supposed to know? It's almost like, if I tell someone how I feel, I lose my power. I always must be in control. I always must have the upper hand. No over texting, only subtle hints. Gender norms and waiting to be picked be damned. And if I'm picked, great. f*cking great. Now I can show everyone my engagement ring. Is that embarrassing? I'd kind of like to think so. It's definitely a short lived type of validation. As a close friend once said, other people's validation has no nutritional value. Very true. It's like junk food. But everyone ends up in McDonald's somehow.

If I drink and become an alcoholic, the trash that abused me will win. Maybe it's time to let them win. Maybe I don't need to win every single goddamn time.

I may update later. Peace.

Can't sleep. Stalked his profile. And then remembered that it's no use--all the information I have about him is useless if he decides he doesn't want to be with me :/

I used to toss around the word "desperate" a lot towards my friends who liked a guy and couldn't play it cool. I think calling myself judgmental, or lacking compassion would be better words or phrase to describe me. What is this whole playing cool anyways? Playing it cool seems dumb now. Maybe it's because I'm older and just have less f*cks to give. It's also less tiring and a lot more peaceful to be honest.

I used to look at adults, especially women, who were so forward, and promise myself I wouldn't become like them. Perhaps. I think as you get older you realize games are for kids, and being honest and straightforward doesn't make you any less of a woman or attractive. It's easy to put on a front that, okay, well if you think I'm (xyz) then f*ck you type of thing, but sometimes in practice it's hard.

I've sobered up and talked to the hotline. Maybe I was feeling fragile, but the girl (she literally sounded in her early 20's) was frustrated and kept interrupting me. Like ma'am, this is my time here! I had this one nice lady tell me that I'm doing okay and he does like me. That I am being anxious. It was true. I was inside my head.

Maybe in the upcoming new year, rather than expecting other people to reach out, I can reach out and spend time with people I like. I just always feel like I need to have everything together before I reach out to people. I think to some extent, it's true. It's hard for others to deal with you at your mess.

My intentions for 2022:
1. Healing Mind, Body, Spirit
Continue to be courageous, but also take my time.
Be patient with myself.
Love myself and affirm myself at every step, even when I feel like I'm not looking the way I think I should.
Keeping promises to myself, building trust with myself by honoring my own plans, first. It could be anything as small as, doing the laundry, to as big as planning a self date.
Doing pleasurable activities that engage my senses and allow my inner child to come out and play.
Integrating prayer and faith into my daily practice.
Living every day by savoring it.

2. Sharing my work
Writing here everyday, showing up.


Shadow work prompts for tomorrow:

  1. Who am I?
  2. What do I want?
  3. What do I have to let go of to get the things I desire?
  4. Who do I have to become to receive those things?
  5. How do I want to show up?

9:00AM December 28, 2021

The first thing I thought when I woke up was, about him. These non relationships really get you. They really do. I felt like an idiot for liking someone so much, but it's also my body. It's a survival thing. Getting attached is a biological processes that embeds into our bodies, into our cells. And when things don't work out, it...hurts. You feel slightly sick, like you would an illness. It manifests physically.

But one good thing I did today was, I meditated. I feel myself getting back on track. I used to villify myself for getting back on track after being on track. The way I grew up, I was always supposed to be on track. You can imagine my nonexistent teenage years. They were exactly that, nonexistent.

I want to get back into this idea of physically getting sick and connection. I think it's possible to live a life not making any connections. Then, perhaps my body would be at peace all the time. The way things work is, we are wired to seek connection, novelty, creativity. We are wired to seek relationships and intimate partnerships, a mate. So of course, on the body level, something is felt when the brain and heart has registered a loss. In this case, it's a loss of relationship with a potential partner.

He was promising.

I imagined a future with him. I imagined a future with him in which I would help his career, we would travel together. He would also support my career, and show up for me. Maybe even become that couple, because we shined so brightly. We would work out our differences by having discussions and sometimes, giving each other space, but building a foundation of knowing that neither of us would give up. Making a decision, every single day, to becoming better human beings together, for and with each other. Building trust and faith in each other over time, and reaping security, bliss, and the deep bond that comes with building together.

I have to visit the site where I hoped our home would be, the one we would build together. I want to smash the little wooden sign that said "My Name and His Name" to mark where we were going to build. The ground, which I was preparing, now no longer needs to be dug. I created a space in my heart for this person but he's not going to come and build with me.

It seems almost nerdy to want a relationship, something of substance. It seems cooler and easier to just want the temporary high of sex and the shots of dopamine. But I'll stay nerdy. I realized that I can't help but value the deeper things in life. The things beyond the eyes, the ears, the senses. That is me.

What did I learn?

I think for the first time, I learned how to move slowly in a relationship. I learned that slowness allows me to listen to myself. More than any other time, I tuned into myself. If my level of obsession with receiving texts and getting some kind of response from the other person was at a level 10 most of the time, it graduated down to a level 8 or even a level 7. I was able to focus on other things, tend to my life, my breath, my body, my own responsibilities. I used to be consumed by the other person. I used to be consumed or ghost. Now, I can sustain a conversation throughout the day without feeling like I need to run or I need to reply (flight or fight). I can tune back into my needs and desires. It's a possibility for me now, even though I struggle with it.

Even when I was struggling with his pauses in responses, or when there was a lull, I still fought to take care of myself: shower, eat, go for a walk, drink some water. It's still challenging for me, and much easier without dating. But I refuse to let the trash who abused me get the best of me. I have to remember that this is my life, and I'm living it, and no one else can live it for me, no matter how much I live with the results of their abuse. I have to heal, and I have to succeed. I have to do better.

Step by step. Small baby steps. Always.

I'll be back after breakfast to do shadow work.
Welcome to MyPTSD, @sleeveheart
One thing I really want to work on is sharing my writing. I love to write little stories. I might also post diary entries.
Our primary purpose here is peer support for PTSD/CPTSD. I'd encourage you to use your diary for focussing on your own trauma/recovery process. You'll find that the sub-forums are a great place to have discussions with others about symptoms, struggles, etc.

And the Social sub-forum is where you'll find threads dedicated to sharing creative writing, poetry, etc. (along with other forms of self-expression and games).

If you have any questions about using the forum, you can ask them in Contact Us.

Thanks - and again, welcome.

There's a homeless woman that lives around the corner to me. When my mom was alive, she came to our house once. She was okay then. She had a place to stay. Now she sleeps in a tent. I used to worry about her on occasion, wondering if I should get her some food. I'm a lot more worried she won't like my food, or it won't be good enough. Go figure. The last thing I want to do is think that because she's homeless, she'll eat anything. I don't like doing that. I don't like thinking that someone has no choice because they're homeless. Even as a child, one of the smallest choices we make is the foods we eat. Whenever I think about that, I get fearful about my future child's food tantrums. I already feel anxious thinking about it. My mother might have felt the same, feeding me. Or, maybe I felt her anxiety as she tried to feed my sister.

My mother said that I ate well as a child. You could tell. I was a chunky child. I think I ate because I realized, if I ate, it calmed my mother down. I was a gifted and precocious child.

I still love food, but layered on top of that is the pressure to look a certain way. It's an ongoing battle with food, too. My mother was also chronically ill as a child. It did affect her at the end of her life.
January 8, 2022

Within the last 2 weeks, I'm seeing someone else. I feel a real sense of shame. It feels like I'm jumping relationship to relationship. Is it so bad that I want to be with someone? Is it so bad that I know I can't be on this journey alone? I feel nauseous at the thought of me needing someone else.

I thought this morning about surprises. This person surprised me. I don't take well with sudden changes, I guess it's all part of the cPTSD. He surprised me by being very different in an intimate encounter than what he is like otherwise. He definitely respected my boundaries, but I feel cold sweats just thinking about how different this person can be. I know normally for people without cPTSD, it's a nice surprise. But for me, it took a few days to recover. My body was in freeze mode, and then once it was out, it went into flight mode, thinking of all the ways to break it off with this person. On one hand, I do want to see this person again, and I know that there's a high chance we will hook up, because I want to. I like this person, and feel safe with this person. And at the same time, no matter how safe and familiar this person is, I still get triggered. My body and brain feel out of my control. I wish that I could be "normal" and cool, and calm, and collected. I feel like I want to burst into tears right now.

A big part of me wishes my body wouldn't react this way. It seems to be getting in the way of everything. I feel crazy.

I enjoyed our time together, I just didn't feel good afterwards for the next few days. I had a low level panic attack that was brewing beneath everything.

But then, I hear another part of me saying, it's okay to prioritize myself first. Maybe, I shouldn't need to be different, maybe, I'm not the crazy one. Is it possible that the world can make space for me rather than belittling me? Maybe I could also expect to be welcomed, and expected. Maybe the world is f*cked up and cruel and maybe, I'm not the crazy one. Maybe, the world could also work on being more accepting of me, too.

I think I am very disappointed. I thought that going for someone who feels familiar and safe would change things. That I would be magically cured and my body would "behave". That I don't have to tell this person or show this person what I went through. That I can keep my traumas to myself and resolve it on my own. I am so deathly afraid of what would happen if I told him.
Hi @sleeveheart, sometimes people get "separation anxiety". The excitement of meeting someone and then the low of them not being around for a certain time. Everyone has needs. We are born to be social creatures. Even if our upbringing was f*cked up.

Maybe there will be an appropriate time for you to mention that you suffer from trauma and that your trying to recover.
Hi @sleeveheart, sometimes people get "separation anxiety". The excitement of meeting someone and then the low of them not being around for a certain time. Everyone has needs. We are born to be social creatures. Even if our upbringing was f*cked up.

Maybe there will be an appropriate time for you to mention that you suffer from trauma and that your trying to recover.

It's so true. I also saw a video online where someone talked about hormones and how it affects you post hooking up. There's a baseline level of dopamine, and sometimes the aftermath makes you feel down because the hormones are a bit out of your own range. You feel the difference, basically.

I'm glad that, for once, I'm not trauma dumping on a new partner. I used to do that, and spiral into shame. I know now, it was because I wanted someone else to validate my story. It's a thing that is perfectly normal to do. But it's often inappropriate for a new partner to know.

When I am ready, when I've accepted fully my own story, I think I'll be ready to share.
January 11, 2022

I took a long nap today. I hooked up with this person, again. We had a lot of fun, and it was mutually gratifying for both of us. It felt nice to have fun, and not make it so performative, which has been my experience the whole time.

I feel pangs of anxiety about whether it will last with this person, if this person actually likes me, etc. If this person isn't talking to other people, if it's too much for me to ask to be the only person that they love the most out of all the people they could possibly be linked with.

Right now it occurred to me that I was "cheated on" by an abuser. I feel so much mixed feelings typing this. It's funny, perhaps, in that this person so thoroughly gaslighted me, and didn't even give me the words to describe it. He made it seem like using words like cheating were nonsensical. He claimed that I wasn't even his person, so if this person was clearly hooking up with someone else, then that's not cheating, right?