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The journey begins ... or continues ... articulating the rollercoaster that is my life

I keep getting flashes of being a baby and having a penis in my mouth and sucking it.

It's happened before, but I dismissed it out of hand, but it keeps coming back.

Yes I've had flashbacks of this but I didn't know what to make of it or how to deal with it.
I honestly don't know what to make of it.
 
So the festival-site cottage was when I was four, I think. After that we moved out into the bush, mum bought a property.

That's when the truly utterly terrifying nightmares started. So haunting, the fear shaped my entire life. I almost suspect/wonder if abduction by grey's and praying mantis beings started then, and I was given cloaked memories. Alien abduction trauma may sound really cray cray, but if you look into it, it's actually happened to a LOT of people. I have memories of it happening later but wonder if it started in this phase of my.life.
 
Ok, so I am on day three of zero alcohol. I don't tend to think I have a problem with booze, but since my sweetheart went away, I got in the habit of one to three of something to "take the edge off".

I finished the last of the red wine on tuesday and it's now Friday and my guy (who seems to like me to socially drink with him [every night]) is under strict direction to not buy anything that will tempt me. I don't touch his bourbon or vodka so as long as he buys no gin or red wine, I should be free of temptation.

I even developed a taste for beer, while he was away, on account of my extreme inner discomfort and his having left a box of beers here. So the hard work I'd put into losing some of this cortisol-induced belly fat went by the by.

I had managed to get down to very bloody trim and toned even after all my 7 babies but a fattening combination of starting university& my son's first psychotic episode got my weight pile-up started, with a 10 kg addition, followed by having to move back to this trauma-site town and being stuck here without transport for a lot of the time, which has enabled a pile on of a further 10kgs or so. Oh yeah and it's all happened since I hit my 40's too, so there's that.

So I'm determined to lossen the hold that one of my inner people (Linneta Ray) has on me , but only the fat bit. She's very sweet otherwise, quiet, other than amazing pipes as a gospelly soul singer, a very devout God&Christ-Loving Christian and lives to cook and feed everyone.

I experience her as someone who I feel has her own distinct personality and self, within me, which is a strange feeling. I surmise sometimes, perhaps she is a spirit that latched on to me because of my lack of distinct self and boundaries through trauma and neglect and our commonalities (I'm also a singer) or maybe she's a past life self of mine that I've carried awareness through of, or a parallel self from another part of my oversoul self.

Any which way, she lives in me, I'm aware of her energy and I am influenced by her, but she never takes me over, as such, although I feel my music is very much shaped by her influence and my weight issues are also her weight issues.

She is one of my kindly parts.

Most of my parts are kind, although I do have a bit of a scary, possibly powerful, witchy part, who despises weakness. I find her a bit frightening and I feel she has abused and taken over, frightening children and probably adults, in the past, I keep a very tight control over her, but if I could get myself into the forest, I could let her out more, and because she'd be in her natural environment, she wouldn't do anything scary.

She is quite wise but I don't fully trust her and her power actually terrifies me.
I call her Baba Yaga after the Russian fairy tale witch.
She has come out and taken over at times when I've felt my most out of control and maligned. And also mainly when I've lived out in the forest in a little witchy shack. That hasn't happened for a long time though.

She is a proper classic witch with a proper classic witchy cackle. I feel I could call on her in a life-threatening situation and she would rise to the occasion.

I have quite a few other parts and will share more about them soon.
 
So I'm feeling triggered again, after having a bit of a better run lately.

I went down to my daughters school fete. I had fun doing some darkroom photo-making with her but it got really busy So I went off to get my youngest son to come down and took him in to Do multi-media too. I couldn't handle the crowds of teachers and parents mainly, the kids I can come with better, so I went and hid under a tree and did some forum responding.

My lack of social know-how, well actually it's not even that, my general lack of social comfortability, started to get me down.

I've started another zentangly drawing and eaten chocolate and watched some nordic noir, but it's not taking my mind off this gnawing loneliness. My guy's working and I can my hear my neighbors, they have three generations living at theirs.

I think about my daughter and how she's grown up in this community, she has a sense of place, family and community. I think about my kids and how they've always had each other. I just don't know what any of that feels like. I missed out on all that, and that's why I fought so hard to make sure my children didn't ever have such profound loneliness, suffering and hardship as I did growing up.

I do have my guy though, he will be home soonish and my littlest man is bringing home pizza. I realize being alone is kind of triggery for me lately, which is weird because being alone has generally felt safer that being with others.

After this last episode of terrible anxiety, agoraphobia and debilitating shame and overwhelming freeze and dissociative mode that I suffered when my guy went away, I feel more triggered than ever being alone.

I wish the terrible loneliness would leave me and never come back. It's such a sense of grief, loss and deprivation. I guess I need to grieve my general lack of sense of belonging, trust in others, social comfort, safe people and sense of family and community and realize that I am working on it, but these things haven't been easy or generally available for me, throughout my life.

Never too late though, eh?
 
Not sure how to start or even what I want to say. I've been thinking about how my mum used to make me stick my bottom in the air and she would stick garlic and paw paw ointment up my bum, when I complained of having an itchy bum. Worms. Even when others were around. Humiliating and uncomfortable and painful.

I was anally raped when I was sixteen, and left, unconscious, naked and close to death in a suburban front yard in Hobart, when I was sixteen. I woke up with cardiac buttons on me and a very sore anus.

My mother turned up but was utterly unresponsive, the next day, after I got out of hospital. What kind of mother does that? I don't really remember what she did say, but I know there was no genuine care or compassion because she's always been utterly incapable of that.

I was left to think that it was my fault and was so ashamed I left the state as soon as
I could. I travelled thousands of km to get away from my mother and the shameful anal rape that I thought I must have deserved, but she ended up moving up here, after me, a few years later.

I never thought it was on my account as I have no emotional connection with her but anger, hurt, disgust, shame, and unsafety. I've tried to be a good, kind daughter though, but it was just me going through the motions until I ran out of energy to fake being what she wanted me to be.

Maybe I love her deep down but in my mind, she is associated with so much pain, neglect, abuse and trauma.

I felt dirty and shamed and totally lacking in self worth, growing up. I don't know how to be a family member very well. I want, more than anything, to be a good, strong, kind and confident mum but everyday it's an uphill battle with the shame and other debilitating symptoms and my utter lack of nurturing mothering from too many years.
 
❤️❤️❤️ One thing I know... Dear Friend... Is that you know how NOT to mother! That is sometimes as important as knowing what to do. That's what I have found with myself. I knew that ANYTHING was better than what my mother did and did not do...❤️❤️❤️

Please be kind to yourself! You are VERY VALUABLE, and LOVED!!! :hug::hug::hug:
 
❤️❤️❤️ One thing I know... Dear Friend... Is that you know how NOT to mother! That...
Thank you dear Angel heart @AngelkeeperJ/AKJ . I just told my partner that I am disgusted with my neighbor (the triggery one who reminds me of my mother) his ex (she tried to kill him so many times and has also assaulted me) my mother and myself. He told me I don't disgust him, he loves me and he's so glad he met me, I've enriched his life so much.

So there's that.

Trying to be kind but my debilitatedness and compulsions are a challenge. I cope ok when I am able to achieve to prove to myself that I am worthy of my own respect and a sense of accomplishment, but this year and dealing with so much symptoms and not coping or being able to do very much is bringing the shame and sense of uselessness and lack of worth to a head.

It is so unreasonable and irrational! Abusers get out of my consciousness!
I want to cry and rage and vent and be looked after and be told it will be alright and that I will get out the other side of this.

Now my body has turned against me, it won't make good babies anymore, this means I can't bury myself in my mothering role anymore and extract a sense of worth from that, I actually have to deal with all this pain and rage and fear and self-negation.
 
❤️❤️❤️ One thing I know... Dear Friend... Is that you know how NOT to mother! That...
I remember thinking that exact same thing many years ago,.I.know what not to do, but I don't know what to do.
Now I know what to do, but I just don't have the energy or emotional energy to do it all the time.
I'm not abusive but my house is horrible and I still can't drive and my energy levels and social energy have been very, very low lately. Plus I am carrying so much extra weight that I want to be free of.
Some days getting out of bed is a feat that takes half the day to accomplish.

But I am getting better. I just wish I didn't carry so much guilt and shame about being unwell and exhausted and not coping.
 
It is NOT your fault, or your choice, and you have NOTHING to be sorry for! It's your HEART that matters the MOST, and YOUR HEART is beautiful and precious!❤️

I could easily have written the same words you have written! I am carrying about 50+ extra pounds, and have a hard time getting out of bed and getting ANYTHING accomplished. It produces CONTINUAL guilt and shame as well. I get SO aggravated at being "stuck!"

In my opinion... YOU are LOVABLE, worthy of GOOD things, and VERY gifted in more ways than one!!!❤️ You have the DESIRE to get better and that's one of the most important things of all!

If you can...you can try to "bring up" your inner child and tell her the things you would tell your own daughter? Tell her that she is valuable, loving, special, wanted, and needed. Not for what she can do, but for who she is. This is the beginning of the journey towards healing!❤️

I can't say that I have arrived at being able to do this for myself all the time, but I am getting better at it. We are works in progress, and the most important rule... Is that we can't give up!

Please try to be gentle with yourself? You have suffered too much already!:hug:
 
It is NOT your fault, or your choice, and you have NOTHING to be sorry for! It's your HEART tha...

I will get back to doing my best to mother myself, which I have been.doing my best to do before I get overcome with memories and an assault of negative emotions that come with them.

My latest interim T told me to make a plan to get out of the house everyday. I didn't manage it this weekend. So I'm being hard on myself. I also didn't manage much housework. But I did some drawing, cooking washing, dishes and a lot of reading here and posting here.

I'm going to get back to telling more of my earliest memories.

A small digression from where I left off. We were in southern Tassie, starting to go into some more isolated horror, in the bush, but before we go there I want to talk about my first "I'm going to die" thoughts and experience.

I guess I was 4 but maybe I was three. What's interesting is that I was so ready and willing to die. I was swimming in a dam. Both my parents were there which.is strange, because they split when.I.was two and a half. I toppled over in the water and for a while, nobody noticed. I was very calm and also certain "this was it!" I wasn't frightened at all, I was eager to go! I remember thinking to myself "goodbye (cruel) world!". I knew I shouldn't say cruel but I did. Sounds very sophisticated for a tiny girl but I was a tiny old person in a little girls body.
I was actually a bit disappointed when my mum noticed I was under the water and started yelling at my Dad to grab me out.

I sort of surprised myself that I was so unafraid of death. All my life it hasn't been death that frightens me.

Violence I despise. Cruelty. Destruction of the natural world. Liars and usurpers of God-given freedom(s), cowardice that hurts others by neglect and failing to uphold ones responsibilities (I am guilty of this one especially, because my ex terrifies me and I left my children with him) . I am terrified that he will hurt my children more, if I give him an opening to. I am scared of my children getting more mentally screwed up and it being my fault. They are the hostages, I am the intended victim, but he knows I care about them more than myself so the best way to hurt me is to hurt them and control them and basically own them. He has to be smart though, if he is too overt, his awesome guy cover is blown. And I WILL and ALWAYS DO jump in and act when he steps too far over the line. Now, he has to work to maintain his status and influence, before he just had to abuse, deny, lie, threaten, withhold, sabotage and gaslight.

Anyway, enough digression. So we moved into a corner of the world, tucked away, with a crystalline creek and I helped my mum build a shack.
She had a 17 year old boyfriend. She was 29. He liked me. He told me he was going to marry me when.I grew up. My mum became more abusive and neglectful of me. I thought "there is something very wrong going on.here and I'm going to find out what it is." Little sleuth, I was.
I also decided, if she was sane, I didn't want to.be sane.
I started having horrific nightmares. I.might go into them another time, they are burned into my brain, but not today.
I once begged her to "chop my head off! Chop my head off!" after one, as I was convince I had another bulbous head like growth growing on top of my head. No idea what that was about.
Around this time, near miss number 2 (that I remember) I trod on a baby brown snake going down to the creek. Mum screamed at me, I went back over the snake, barefoot, to get to my mum. Little head up to bite me, but here I am.. Yes, it probably would have killed me. I was more frightened by my mum's reaction though.

Not long after it was the first year of school. Because we lived quite a way out, not really, but to a five year old, it was long. I had to walk the long driveway to catch the school bus by myself. I was terrified of the tiger snakes and brown snakes and I would stomp and growl all the way up the K or so driveway and back each day.

I was frightened of my.old nun school teacher too. I was also sexually focused and would flash my privates in the playground to my friend and whoever else might be looking at the time. And play the "I'll show mine if you show your's" game with some of the boys. I already knew about sex stuff and have a memory of another little boy playing with my little thing already. I don't remember other sex play at that age though. Just the earlier memory of too much awareness (at three) and this is what you're supposed to do with boys, let them do stuff, but you can't let mums or other people know game with "Kerian". It would be a good four years until I had sex again though (that's providing those maybe memories are real, of penetration at three. I was definitely penetrated at 9). And after that, not til I was 15. But I did initiate sex games with boys and girls when I could throughout my early and.mid childhood.
 

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