Had my third appointment with my new Psychologist yesterday. Last week he asked me if anyone had ever approached me with the diagnosis of PTSD before (I've been in and out of counseling 5 or 6 times over the past 20 some odd years). This week I came right out and asked him if that's what he thought it was and more importantly if he thought it was Complex-PTSD. He said yes. In one respect hearing this was music to my ears. It meant that I had finally found someone who "gets it". I have been validated. That means I'm justified in what I'm feeling. I'm right and she (my mother) is and always has been wrong in the way she's treated me.
Then the reality of that "yes" began to hit. I'm finding that it's one thing to for me to point a finger at her blaming her for everything and quite another thing for someone to agree with me. That's when the intense feelings of anger and utter betrayal began to set in. She robbed me of a childhood -- robbed me of a "normal" life -- and my step father allowed it with his silence and pretending I wasn't there. There was something going on with me and neither one of them cared enough to notice and do something about it. I can remember my second grade teacher telling my mother that I was a "daydreamer". I wasn't daydreaming I was zoning out. I was showing signs of it as early as that and nobody cared enough to notice.
I can remember leaving notes on the stairs at night for them to find asking if they loved me -- check yes or no. In the morning I would get up and run to the stairs where I had left the notes hoping that the answer was "yes" only to find that the notes were gone. There was nothing on the stairs except for complete and utter emptiness. The notes were never acknowledged or mentioned. Their silence was my answer and life continued as it always did. How could they have ignored that?
I watched the two of them raise "their" children in a loving supportive way. The three of them were denied nothing. They knew how to be good parents. Why did they treat me the way they did? What was wrong with me that they couldn't love me? Today I'm being told by some of my relatives that I'm bitter and that she "did the best she could" and I'm supposed to accept that and allow her back in my life or they won't have anything to do with me. I'm supposed to crawl back and beg for forgiveness of the sin of walking out of her life and pretend that she didn't do or say the things she did. Nobody will accept that maybe just maybe I did the best I could as well and that it was never good enough. Kim's always been the "difficult" one. I wasn't being difficult all I wanted was to be loved and treated the way my half brother and half sisters were. What was wrong with that?
She isolated me. She kept me from my father's side of the family (he committed suicide when I was 3). Kept me from people who loved and accepted me. I wasn't allowed to have friends over or to go to their house. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything. When I was home I was usually punished for something she thought I did wrong and sent to my room. It didn't matter how well behaved I tried to be.
Because of the way she treated me I don't know what it's like to be "normal". I don't have friends. Don't feel that I fit in anywhere. I can't hold a f ing job. I feel completely and utterly worthless and useless. That's what I have to show for my childhood.
Yes, anger and a sense of complete and utter betrayal is what I feel. That's what has come out of the confirmation of my diagnosis.
Sorry but I had to rant and get this off my chest. I'm better today than I was last night but as you can see the anger still lingers.
Then the reality of that "yes" began to hit. I'm finding that it's one thing to for me to point a finger at her blaming her for everything and quite another thing for someone to agree with me. That's when the intense feelings of anger and utter betrayal began to set in. She robbed me of a childhood -- robbed me of a "normal" life -- and my step father allowed it with his silence and pretending I wasn't there. There was something going on with me and neither one of them cared enough to notice and do something about it. I can remember my second grade teacher telling my mother that I was a "daydreamer". I wasn't daydreaming I was zoning out. I was showing signs of it as early as that and nobody cared enough to notice.
I can remember leaving notes on the stairs at night for them to find asking if they loved me -- check yes or no. In the morning I would get up and run to the stairs where I had left the notes hoping that the answer was "yes" only to find that the notes were gone. There was nothing on the stairs except for complete and utter emptiness. The notes were never acknowledged or mentioned. Their silence was my answer and life continued as it always did. How could they have ignored that?
I watched the two of them raise "their" children in a loving supportive way. The three of them were denied nothing. They knew how to be good parents. Why did they treat me the way they did? What was wrong with me that they couldn't love me? Today I'm being told by some of my relatives that I'm bitter and that she "did the best she could" and I'm supposed to accept that and allow her back in my life or they won't have anything to do with me. I'm supposed to crawl back and beg for forgiveness of the sin of walking out of her life and pretend that she didn't do or say the things she did. Nobody will accept that maybe just maybe I did the best I could as well and that it was never good enough. Kim's always been the "difficult" one. I wasn't being difficult all I wanted was to be loved and treated the way my half brother and half sisters were. What was wrong with that?
She isolated me. She kept me from my father's side of the family (he committed suicide when I was 3). Kept me from people who loved and accepted me. I wasn't allowed to have friends over or to go to their house. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere or do anything. When I was home I was usually punished for something she thought I did wrong and sent to my room. It didn't matter how well behaved I tried to be.
Because of the way she treated me I don't know what it's like to be "normal". I don't have friends. Don't feel that I fit in anywhere. I can't hold a f ing job. I feel completely and utterly worthless and useless. That's what I have to show for my childhood.
Yes, anger and a sense of complete and utter betrayal is what I feel. That's what has come out of the confirmation of my diagnosis.
Sorry but I had to rant and get this off my chest. I'm better today than I was last night but as you can see the anger still lingers.
