What Cant You Get Out Of Your Mind?

[Campari]

What I find hardest to deal with is the colossal unfairness of it all. I had to drop out of school, move hundreds of miles away, and start again from scratch in another city, at another university. I'm covered in scars and struggle with friendships and relationships owing to my horror of getting close to people after what happened. My ex-fiancé, meanwhile, is busy doing his PhD, jetting off to philosophy conferences all over Europe, and dating one of his undergraduates, and is as happy as a psychopath is capable of being.

The fact that no one believes that a tiny, bespectacled philosophy student could do so much damage.

My ex's voice. He never shouted; instead, he'd say the most evil, appalling, unholy things to me in this quiet, gentle, velvety voice that made whatever he was saying sound ten times worse than it would have done had he yelled. I still hear it in my head sometimes when things get bad.

When my PTSD got so bad that I had to drop out of college, I wound up in a clinic near London famous in the UK for dealing with rock'n'roll excess. Treatment consisted almost entirely of group therapy sessions, and I was told that I couldn't discuss what had happened to me because the other patients would, and I quote, "find it too upsetting". (They also yelled at me for fainting when my meds made my blood pressure go through the floor, but that's another story.)

Also: kitchen knives. I can't stand them. My ex thought they were some kind of marital aid. It might sound a little silly, but I can't be around them without feeling uneasy, and I freak out whenever anyone accidentally injures themselves while cooking.

 

[NIKI]

I can not get the thought of every time we would go to a holiday party at my Nana's house. My father would get so drunk that he was slurring his words and having trouble standing.

Then it is time to go, my uncles help my father to the car and give him the keys! Then it is time for us kids to get in the car. I did not have the choice whether I wanted to be driven by a drunk driver. I just had to go. I hate my uncles for helping put us kids in that position!!!!! No one dared to help us!!!!!!!! I am SO MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then the car ride would start and so would the horror!! Being so afraid and not being able to say anything or cry because dad would hit us if we did. I hate you! By some miracle we never got in an accident. I have no idea how.

 

[NIKI]

I can't get the thought that when I had reminded dad of the things he put us through, that he doesn't remember. HA!

 

[Anna]

I cannot get out of my head the evil that human beings are capable of. It makes me cry sometimes to think of the pain and suffering that some evil people are capable of inflicting on others. It hurts sometimes so much I feel this lump of fire in my throat.

 

[KP the nut]

That underneath whatever I do, or say or how I act, I am never good enough, I will always be a scared little girl.

 

[MarieG]

Him, yelling at my husband that if we touched his stuff, there would be bloodshed. Her closing up on me, and me pushing her back and telling her to stay away from me.
The thought that if they show up here, I could end their miserable life and the torment they put my husband and I with the shotgun. Why people like this have any rights?

 

[yomama]

Thanks to 4th of July, two different events have been stuck in my head lately. At 16, seeing pieces of my uncle's brains and scalp on the door of his bedroom after he was blown away by a SWAT team. And in a world away in 2000, crouching with my 3-yr-old in a small dorm room on the "green line" between Israel and the West Bank, hearing and feeling the concussion and reverberations of missile impacts from IDF helicopters nearby.

 

[Froggie]

That underneath whatever I do, or say or how I act, I am never good enough, I will always be a scared little girl.

Holding you in my arms my dear friend.

 

[KP the nut]

(((Froggie))) I love you, thank you

 

[Froggie]

(((Froggie))) I love you, thank you

You know for me it's the same my dear friend ((((KP))))

 

[Srain]

I can't get out of my mind my mother telling me that it would have been better that I had never been born. I can't get out of my mind that I need to be on constant alert, that I need to be ready for anything, that I don't want to be detected. I can't get out of my mind the sound of my brother being hit by my dad. I can't get out of my mind the look of my dad's face, the feeling of shock and disbelief inside, the feeling that it was not safe to live in my home and there was nobody to help me. I can't get out of my mind the worst beating I took from my ex-boyfriend. I can't get out of my mind the brainwashing that transpired and there was nobody to help me. I can't shake the feeling of being afraid to exist for fear of being found by him or my father.

((((((((((((Elizabethnueve)))))))))))))
Peace, safety, and recovery your way

The "family reunion" idea my brother wants...I am in shear panic...why would anyone want that??? I was the focus of hatred, my younger brother the focus of immaturity, my older brother of dangerous silence, my mother was the focus of hospitality, smile and pretend but this time, ....oh, lord, she will be time bomb this time, the fuse, the trigger.. She has hated us all at some point because she has NEVER protected us. Never apologized, never been able to admit it could have all been stopped by her. She allowed this ruin. Now she wants us to carry on and pretend we are all okay. She is the old, cold, matriarch now. All else are dead or on the other coast out of contact, this is it, all that's left. 4 or of 5 of the original save for grandma which would have been 6. But she is not the one pulling this stunt together, she would never have the nerve, she will remain on the outskirts as grandma did. I won't be there with her to ease her uncomfortableness this time. I am part of the others. I can't get this out of my mind :ninja:

 

[elizabethnueve]

I can't get out of my mind feeling of being watched. This has never left me. This feeling stays upon me as permanently attached clothing-never to be taken off. All of my movements are being monitored, assessed, and scrutinized. My mind lives in a cage called 'frozen in time' because the key was eaten away long ago by the acid called trauma.