I got home last week on break after a very stressful two weeks of exams. I'd barely been there for a few hours before I decided it'd be a great idea to go secretly looking for photos of the man I suspected abused me (I had zero memory of him whatsoever, which is pretty indicative on its own). I'm so stupid. I don't know why I have to be so obsessive. I guess I'd just been wavering towards denial and figured I'd find pictures, have no reaction, and maybe I could forget about all of this. Sigh.
I found a few pictures and my reaction confirmed my suspicions. I freaked out, couldn't stop shaking the rest of the night, and had the most intense and horrible physical nausea and pain. Started to remember other visuals of him and immediately pushed everything away and wouldn't let myself think about it.
I managed to get through the next few days, but the day before we left for relatives' house for Christmas I ended up doing something which I'd felt I had to do for weeks - which is return to the house I lived in during that time, and where he lived next door. Even though he had moved out of state and I'm fairly certain he is dead, I was still terrified out of my mind to go, but I felt like I had to. I guess I sort of dared myself to (the risk-taking, self-harming side of my BPD, maybe).
I did bring my dog with me (a greater support than my family and my therapist combined, haha). The houses have been landscaped and partly rebuilt and look totally different from when I lived there, but apparently that didn't matter. I caught a glimpse of his house, and the shady side-yard between our houses - panicked and was a MESS, and came this close to wetting myself which is something I've never experienced before. I'm glad no one was on the street because I don't even want to know what I must have looked like. I remembered a few brief images, then majorly dissociated and found myself later driving home drenched in sweat and whimpering (I should NOT have been driving!). My poor dog (who is usually quite aloof) in the backseat distressed and staring at me. I don't even know how I got through the rest of that night.
The next morning I woke up broken out in hives and very physically sick. Mentally I was just - numb. Since then that's basically how it's been - total "spaceyness" punctuated by some awful flashbacks. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I'm overwhelmed with guilt for a whole heap of issues that emerged over Christmas. It's been a see-saw of wanting more memories and then shoving them away.
Long story short, if I could describe how I feel any way, it's as if it *just* happened and I'm *just* now reacting to it.
Does that even make sense, for something that happened when I was so young? That I'd just now be really feeling like this? Are there any of you who have recovered memories from childhood, and did you feel this overwhelmed when you first remembered? Is it "normal" to have this sort of reaction to being in the location where you were abused, or seeing pictures?
I'm just filled with so much self-doubt because of the lack of really convincingly solid memories... And honestly, who WANTS to believe something like this could have happened to them.
I found a few pictures and my reaction confirmed my suspicions. I freaked out, couldn't stop shaking the rest of the night, and had the most intense and horrible physical nausea and pain. Started to remember other visuals of him and immediately pushed everything away and wouldn't let myself think about it.
I managed to get through the next few days, but the day before we left for relatives' house for Christmas I ended up doing something which I'd felt I had to do for weeks - which is return to the house I lived in during that time, and where he lived next door. Even though he had moved out of state and I'm fairly certain he is dead, I was still terrified out of my mind to go, but I felt like I had to. I guess I sort of dared myself to (the risk-taking, self-harming side of my BPD, maybe).
I did bring my dog with me (a greater support than my family and my therapist combined, haha). The houses have been landscaped and partly rebuilt and look totally different from when I lived there, but apparently that didn't matter. I caught a glimpse of his house, and the shady side-yard between our houses - panicked and was a MESS, and came this close to wetting myself which is something I've never experienced before. I'm glad no one was on the street because I don't even want to know what I must have looked like. I remembered a few brief images, then majorly dissociated and found myself later driving home drenched in sweat and whimpering (I should NOT have been driving!). My poor dog (who is usually quite aloof) in the backseat distressed and staring at me. I don't even know how I got through the rest of that night.
The next morning I woke up broken out in hives and very physically sick. Mentally I was just - numb. Since then that's basically how it's been - total "spaceyness" punctuated by some awful flashbacks. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I'm overwhelmed with guilt for a whole heap of issues that emerged over Christmas. It's been a see-saw of wanting more memories and then shoving them away.
Long story short, if I could describe how I feel any way, it's as if it *just* happened and I'm *just* now reacting to it.
Does that even make sense, for something that happened when I was so young? That I'd just now be really feeling like this? Are there any of you who have recovered memories from childhood, and did you feel this overwhelmed when you first remembered? Is it "normal" to have this sort of reaction to being in the location where you were abused, or seeing pictures?
I'm just filled with so much self-doubt because of the lack of really convincingly solid memories... And honestly, who WANTS to believe something like this could have happened to them.