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Unveiling The Pain

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FindingMyself88

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Ok, since I have just last week started seeing a trauma therapist, I've decided to start this trauma diary. Some pieces of my childhood are missing and some are slowly coming back. My big problem lies with the fact that I can tell you what happened, but I can not easily attach emotions or pain to it. This is why I titled my journal "Unveiling the Pain". My new T told me this will need to happen in order to heal. She believes the pain is coming out in my panic and anxiety attacks and its an unhealthy way. So my plain is to journal here the events I remember and try to process them. In this first post I will do a rough outline of all my traumas. It may or may not be in chronological order because a lot of it is jumbled, especially from ages 4-11. I may or may not be able to do it all in this post. Future post will be specific memories.

To sum it all up, I have been physically, sexually, and emotionally abused my whole childhood and even some of it into adulthood.

I am told my mom and real dad divorced when I was 18 months old. I was also told that my dad tried stabbing my mom in the belly with a knife while she was pregnant with me. The first memory I really have is when I was around 3yrs old. Apparently my mom's newest boyfriend or husband of choice (she married a total of 7 different men, two of them she remarried) found out she was pregnant again and he left her. I remember sitting in her lap and her telling me that I would be better off without her. I was scared and telling her I needed her, I was begging and crying. A month later she had a miscarriage.

I was for the most part raised by my Maternal Uncle and Aunt until my mom married my current stepdad when I was 4 and a half years old. Even after that, I spent a lot of time with them and their 3 kids. That's all I really remember from those years. I occasionally have passing memories or flashbacks of that time in my life. As far as my real dad goes, I only remember him being married to Nelma, who was approximately 40 years older than he was. She had 2 kids, Lavon and Patricia. Lavon was an alcoholic and had 1 son and 2 girls that were around my age. My dad and Nelma had a violent relationship. They fought so violently that cops would be called, and often times I would be caught in the crossfires. One time my dad pulled a gun on her, so I crawled my way to the phone and called 911. My dad heard me and grabbed me and threw me into my room. The cops came and took me home. The next weekend I remember begging and pleading with my mom not to make me go, but she told me she would go to jail if I didn't and that I shouldn't be selfish.

My dad also loved to torture me. He found out I was afraid of roaches because his and Nelma's house was infested with roaches. So he would throw them on me, alive or dead. They also expected me to be able to perfectly wash dishes as early as the age of 4, when I couldn't even reach the sink without a chair. If I didn't clean them properly, he would either yell at me if I was lucky (not often), beat me with whatever he could get ahold of, or not allow me to eat the next few meals.

From approximately around 5-7 years old Nelma sexually molested me. Her granddaughters also stayed with us a lot or we went to their house. I was only like 8 months older than them so if they did anything, I got beat for it by my dad even if I tried stopping them. When we stayed at their house with their dad, it was really bad. Their mom was in jail. Often times they would lock us outside all day long with nothing to eat or drink. One time they actually left us out there overnight and so we had to sleep in the shed with the dogs. Their dad, Lavon raped his girls a lot. Until the past month or so I thought it had not happened to me, that he was too drunk to realize there was another girl on the cot. However now I've had nightmares and flashbacks of a time where he raped me too. I think I was like 8 or 9 years old.

I remember my mom always being emotionally unstable. She would get mad at me for things I didn't understand. If I was "good" by her terms, I was the best daughter ever. If I did something she didn't like, then I was the worst daughter and she couldn't believe I was her daughter. I remember one time my mom made me tell a friend I couldn't go play because I was a horrible daughter…all because I made a "B" on a spelling test. My mom made me afraid of everyone. She told me my Paternal aunt and grandmother hated me and wanted to steal me and give me to my real dad.

We were constantly going to court. No matter how much proof we had of my dad's and Nelma's abuse, the courts would not allow me to stop seeing them. At one point I was appointed to start seeing a counselor. This counselor deemed both of my parents unsuitable, but nothing was really done. DHR got involved and did routine checks. Eventually when I was like 10 or 11 I confessed to a school counselor about what Nelma did to me. I saw a doctor and he said it was too late to prove it was her, but he could tell I had been molested and or possibly raped at some point. Then for a year or so I only saw dad and Nelma through DHR in supervised rooms. Eventually he left Nelma and the courts said he could only see me on weekends at my grandmothers. She died of cancer when I was 16 and I didn't year from my dad again until I was 21.

At the age of 12 I was sexually molested by my maternal cousin, who was at least 8 years older than me. He was going to rape me, but his parents got home. I only told my stepdad he made me uncomfortable and touched me. So for four years we didn't have anything to do with that side of the family.

My mom continued to be emotionally abusive. I was a recluse. I never left the house except for school. When I got into high school I did start going to church and riding at a barn. My mom couldn't say no to these things because she had become a friend of the barn owner and it would make her look like a bad mom. She did hate me going to church though. She gave me hell for it all through high school and really up until I moved away to college in 2012 at age 23. During my freshmen year my mom bought me a horse, Greyson. He was my life and kept me going. We competed in eventing, specializing in dressage.

My senior year was the worst year. The very first day a good friend is killed in a car wreck and my best friend walks in on my mom having sex with the barn owner's husband. She babysat their down syndrome daughter at the time. They threatened to kill my best friend's horse if she told. I suspected it and asked her and she said yes but I never said anything to anyone because I didn't want her to get hurt, plus I felt guilty.

Also during my senior year my mom did her best to keep me away from church. I started dating this guy and he said he was a christian, but kept pushing me to have sex. He did force me to touch him places and he touched me places. One time when I tried to tell him to stop, he hit me. I eventually got away from relationship. A year after I graduated my mom sold Greyson without warning, which destroyed me.

2010 I reconnected with my paternal aunt and family. I am really close to my aunt now that I have found out the truth. My dad and I talk, but its awkward and will never be a normal relationship.

After this my mom started telling me she hated me and she would threaten suicide and tell people it was because I didn't love her. Summer of 2012 everything hit the head and some of my stepdad's family moved me out of state until I moved to college. Started counseling once I got to college and have been able to set up healthier boundaries with my mom.


This is not nearly everything, just an overview…. As I feel okay to do so, I will post more specific details in hopes that this will help me.
 
I really want to thank you for writing this. While I did not go through the exact same thing, I was physically, emotionally, and sexually abused until I was 15. Reading this helped me to realize I am not alone, and that you can come through on the other side! Thank you for your story!
 
You are so very brave to start this trauma diary. And I just want to say that I recognise not being able to feel any emotions or pain when remembering my trauma, aside from a spike in my constant fear. I definitely agree with your T that you need to learn a healthier way of emotional processing.

Anyway, congrats on taking this step. I hope this diary will be very helpful to you.
 
@Imanpeony Thank you for telling me this. I posted this in hopes of helping myself, but knowing I am helping someone else is great to know! All we can do is take it a day at a time.

@Snowwhite Thank you. Yes, fear is a close companion to me, not in a good way, but its all I know.
 
Triggers have been really bad lately. While I was in the psych unit for suicide attempt, I had panic attacks everyday. I was on the acute unit because they didn't have a bed in any other unit. There were more guys than girls, which automatically set me on edge. They also fought…a lot. Fighting is a HUGE trigger for me because of my dad and Nelma. Even something as simple as a slamming door, accident or not, can set me off. Many times my roommate in the unit found me hiding in a corner of the room, unable to breathe. Whenever this happens, I get visual flashbacks of trying to hide behind a chair as my dad and Nelma tried killing each other. She would hit him with a bat and he would try strangling her and once pulled a gun on her. I also feel like a little girl again when this happens.

One of the PCTs (patient care techs) knew how to help me calm down. She would stand beside me just enough that her leg was touching my shoulder and she gently rubbed the side of my head with her thumb, helping me to ground myself. The other nurses would just give me my medicine and tell me to get up…which made it worse.

Tones of voices even bother me sometimes. I can't stand to think someone is mad at me, I completely breakdown inside. I hate confrontation, even healthy confrontations. I can't stand up for myself for fear of what might happen. I'm working on this, but I still becoming overwhelmed with fear.
 
I have an extreme phobia of roaches. Not the small ones, but the big flying ones. It links back to my dad's throwing them on me alive and dead. I can't even stand to look at a dead one. As a teenager, friends (especially guys) would find out about my fear and taunt me with them. Only to result in me having a panic attack. I become helpless. My skin itches, my heart races, I become EXTREMELY hyper vigilant. Just for seeing one roach, I can't sleep for days and am constantly checking around me. For example, we just moved and because of some boxes that were in shed, we have seen 2 roaches. one alive and one dead. That was like 4 days ago, and I am still always looking around me and panicky of the least little itch. I can't sleep. My stepdad gets irritated with me because he says I am paranoid. I have tried overcoming it but I can't.
 
There are no words to describe how terrible the things are your family put you through. I am so sorry that those things happened to you.

Do you already know how often you are going to see your T? I'm sure she can give you some tips as to how to ground yourself when you're having a panic/anxiety attack. Also, are you continuing the medication you got in the psych unit?

A big virtual hug for you!
 
@Snowwhite thank you for the hug. I have a hard time with accepting my situation as being bad, especially when I see others stories.

We are trying for at least weekly, but she is incredibly busy so we have to plan in advance. Like I will see her this Wednesday, but then unless she has a cancellation I won't see her for two weeks. After that though we have the rest of the month covered.

She said we would be working on mindfulness and self soothing as we get to know each other. And yes, it's the same meds I was on before except they took me off one and upped another.
 
Yeah, I get the same thing. Somehow others' stories sound a lot worse than my own, but that is not what this is about. You have been through a lot of terrible experiences and have developed PTSD because of it. You deserve to take yourself seriously. In fact, it would be a bad thing if you didn't. What happened to you was in no way your fault.

I think it's okay to try out the planning up front. But if you feel like it's not enough to see your T once every one or two weeks, you would be right to look for a T who can provide you with the amount of support and treatment that you need. So keep that in mind, you deserve to ask for the help you require to heal. You really do.

The mindfulness and self-soothing sounds good, I hope it will help you :)
 
Yeah I had to realize to take it seriously once I ended up in the psych unit.

I think once a week is good. She told me if she has any cancellations she will call me. Originally it was going to be three weeks to begin with, but she had a spot open up and she called me, so I trust her to do the same again. I like to plan ahead anyway, so it might be that I start planning a month in advance, occasionally scheduling twice a week.
 
Hi @FindingMyself88. I'm sorry for all you've been through. Although our situations were much different, I can relate to a painful and lost childhood.

Your phobia of roaches is COMPLETELY understandable! I'm sorry that some people try to minimize your fear and tell you to just get over it. If it were only that easy! :O_o:

I also wanted to tell you I'm really sorry about the loss of your Greyson. What a hurtful thing for your mom to do. I have horses - I ride and compete in show jumping -so I truly understand the bond between horse and rider. I lost a horse - well, had one taken from me - as a teenager, and it is still painful to think about to this day.

Anyways, I just wanted to say, I get it and I'm so sorry for your pain.

Keep up the good work with therapy and your diary! :) and :hug: to you!
 
@TimeToHeal Thank you :hug: Loosing Greyson was one of the hardest things, because he is what kept me sane about all the other stuff. He was my "therapist" back then so to say. In fact February is the month my mom sold him, so it's always a hard month for me, even 6 years later. Loosing him is one pain that I am not numb to, but wish I was. I think of him everyday and I can't talk about him without crying. I found out last year through someone that he had passed on. As crazy as it sounds, that was easier to hear than remembering my mom selling him. I remember crying into his shoulder and begging my mom to change her mind. He knew something was wrong, he was always keen on my emotions, he kept nuzzling my back and trying to get my attention. When his new owner went to lead him away, Greyson pulled and tried to stay with me. He never was a horse who disobeyed, so that was big. I ended up having to load him, and I can still remember the way he whinnied as I left the trailer.

All because my mom had a stupid affair and made me hurt for it. I also think deep down she was jealous of the relationship I had with Greyson. She gets jealous of things like that. I don't think the pain from loosing him will ever go away.
 
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