Recent posts
#1
Other / Re: Strange Occurrence: Deep D...
Last post by lowbudgetTV - Today at 05:06:13 AMThank you NK, Teddy and Chart! I do agree. It must be something about my childhood experience that got blocked, and now it is strange trying to feel it now.
I especially agree with your Ancedote NK!
I relate to this a lot. I would feel repulsed often by my mother, especially when she would verbally whine and get fustrated. Perhaps this is the through-line. I saw her and was fustrated with her for having her life be harder than it needed to be and she refused. I remember many times when I got older that I shut down, became the adult, and then solved her problem to get the sound of that screeching whine to go away. It was textbook!
Additionally, to the second point, I would hate when she was vulnerable with me. I would hate being loved. It was not typical teenager angst. I knew somehow that it was different and worse. It felt fake and wrong.
Yet I am protective of children. I love how many stories there are nowadays of--and I suppose anywhere but here would this be an off color thing to say--genuinely abused children getting happy endings. I learned about the eucatastrophe in University Lit Classes and I identified with it ever since. (Wikipedia explains it perfectly well: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eucatastrophe) I really liked watching the Owl House, a fairly recent Disney TV show, for a character in that. A even younger me would've loved it.
I think that really sums up what I feel too. I like cute things, but I'm also rough. I am hard with a soft interior (though IRL I probably usually appear soft with a very hard interior; some people do think I look scary sometimes... I think its my "RBF")
This is all to say that I'll probably be exploring these feelings through art. I like stories and comics, so I need to draw it out more. I did recently finish an art piece, actually, that depicted a strong emotion using a character I connected with.
Anyways, to end my ramblings (I approve of them; ramble on my threads if you have thoughts!), I do think my feelings reflect my thoughts and experiences with the people I fear and loathe. There were times I was made fun of for liking "weak, childish" things. There were times I was made to feel less by being treated like a baby. Studying Disability Rights and Culture too, I have seen so many instances where certain people are treated a certain way and it feels so dehumanizing to be babied. My mother and other family definitely did that specific stuff in addition to how they treated me. Not to mention how sensitive I was to situations where nothing was being done but could've been done, and the only way to free myself was to grow up.
I want to be treated, rewarded, celebrated, sometimes babied by the ones I truly loved--but I also want to be an adult with my own individuality and changing interests. I am intelligent, and I also happen to like soft things. Then, it is perfectly normal to turn around and like dark things too (I wrote this and recalled a time where my mother got mad at me for drawing a bloody vampire, saying it was too scary. Too bad! My art makes people feel emotions and that's the point sometimes, to feel uncomfy!). I am a human and I am complex.
I especially agree with your Ancedote NK!
Quote from: NarcKiddo on January 17, 2026, 02:19:27 PMI had to "mature" extremely fast for my life to be somehow tolerable. In with that, my mother was and is very immature. She is like a giant, vindictive toddler and actually is not shy of acknowledging she is childish at times. So for me, the thought of possibly being vulnerable like a child is awful.
[...]
The instant my mother tries to manoeuvre me into a child position, however, I am on full alert. She is not safe, and my child parts are not yet convinced that I am able to protect them.
I relate to this a lot. I would feel repulsed often by my mother, especially when she would verbally whine and get fustrated. Perhaps this is the through-line. I saw her and was fustrated with her for having her life be harder than it needed to be and she refused. I remember many times when I got older that I shut down, became the adult, and then solved her problem to get the sound of that screeching whine to go away. It was textbook!
Additionally, to the second point, I would hate when she was vulnerable with me. I would hate being loved. It was not typical teenager angst. I knew somehow that it was different and worse. It felt fake and wrong.
Yet I am protective of children. I love how many stories there are nowadays of--and I suppose anywhere but here would this be an off color thing to say--genuinely abused children getting happy endings. I learned about the eucatastrophe in University Lit Classes and I identified with it ever since. (Wikipedia explains it perfectly well: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eucatastrophe) I really liked watching the Owl House, a fairly recent Disney TV show, for a character in that. A even younger me would've loved it.
I think that really sums up what I feel too. I like cute things, but I'm also rough. I am hard with a soft interior (though IRL I probably usually appear soft with a very hard interior; some people do think I look scary sometimes... I think its my "RBF")
This is all to say that I'll probably be exploring these feelings through art. I like stories and comics, so I need to draw it out more. I did recently finish an art piece, actually, that depicted a strong emotion using a character I connected with.
Anyways, to end my ramblings (I approve of them; ramble on my threads if you have thoughts!), I do think my feelings reflect my thoughts and experiences with the people I fear and loathe. There were times I was made fun of for liking "weak, childish" things. There were times I was made to feel less by being treated like a baby. Studying Disability Rights and Culture too, I have seen so many instances where certain people are treated a certain way and it feels so dehumanizing to be babied. My mother and other family definitely did that specific stuff in addition to how they treated me. Not to mention how sensitive I was to situations where nothing was being done but could've been done, and the only way to free myself was to grow up.
I want to be treated, rewarded, celebrated, sometimes babied by the ones I truly loved--but I also want to be an adult with my own individuality and changing interests. I am intelligent, and I also happen to like soft things. Then, it is perfectly normal to turn around and like dark things too (I wrote this and recalled a time where my mother got mad at me for drawing a bloody vampire, saying it was too scary. Too bad! My art makes people feel emotions and that's the point sometimes, to feel uncomfy!). I am a human and I am complex.
#2
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by sanmagic7 - Today at 02:56:13 AMthank you so, TBB. i appreciate all the healing sent my way. i just need to rest off the stress of last week. 
hannah1, i forgot to thank you for your validating words - haven't been thinking straight, foggy brain and all. thanks for the extra hope coming my way - much appreciated. i think i've been thru this ordeal enough times to know i want a T who wants to take care of me, not the other way around, and i'm no longer afraid to say so. i was, very much so, in the past, but it's been a long road and a lot of practice w/ much encouragement from people like you to get me to where i am. thank you so.
hangin' in. cutting way back this weekend.
hannah1, i forgot to thank you for your validating words - haven't been thinking straight, foggy brain and all. thanks for the extra hope coming my way - much appreciated. i think i've been thru this ordeal enough times to know i want a T who wants to take care of me, not the other way around, and i'm no longer afraid to say so. i was, very much so, in the past, but it's been a long road and a lot of practice w/ much encouragement from people like you to get me to where i am. thank you so.
hangin' in. cutting way back this weekend.
#3
Recovery Journals / Re: The tipping point…
Last post by sanmagic7 - Today at 02:51:04 AMchart, your thanks are profoundly and gently received because a lot of us know how very difficult it is to take in the good stuff. we know, with bells on, how to take in the bad - lots of practice with that. here, amazingly enough, there are a bunch of honest, caring people who, as far as i've known, do not lie when they give out compliments. for me, it's been part of the reprogramming, getting pos. stuff over and over until it finally finds its way to sinking in, even if only an inch at first, but eventually all the way to the heart, cells, and soul.
we wouldn't say these things if we didn't mean it. with our experiences, we know what pos., healthy parenting looks like, and i, for one, absolutely want to celebrate it. you deserve it, chart. i hope you can begin taking it in as real. this is what we all wish we had. love and hugs
we wouldn't say these things if we didn't mean it. with our experiences, we know what pos., healthy parenting looks like, and i, for one, absolutely want to celebrate it. you deserve it, chart. i hope you can begin taking it in as real. this is what we all wish we had. love and hugs
#5
Recovery Journals / Re: The tipping point…
Last post by Chart - January 17, 2026, 09:38:05 PMMarcine, SanMagic, SenseOrgan, NarcKiddo, Armee, DesertFlower, TheBigBlue, BlueSky, Dollyvee!!!
Good lord, thank you! I feel like my thanks are so insufficient. But, lordy, your presence, it helps so much. I still feel like a fraud, but I know the inner critic does fraud really well... so I just try to ignore the IC as much as I can. It's such a struggle for me to receive. I can give. Was trained to give. Was trained to climb up on that cross and give until my last breath, but receiving is a million times harder. I breath, I relax, it's okay. Might never go away... completely. It is such a funny feeling... people always say "Trust your feelings"... sadly, with Cptsd, it's just not possible, so many of my "feelings" are just dead-wrong.
Thank you all again soo much.
Good lord, thank you! I feel like my thanks are so insufficient. But, lordy, your presence, it helps so much. I still feel like a fraud, but I know the inner critic does fraud really well... so I just try to ignore the IC as much as I can. It's such a struggle for me to receive. I can give. Was trained to give. Was trained to climb up on that cross and give until my last breath, but receiving is a million times harder. I breath, I relax, it's okay. Might never go away... completely. It is such a funny feeling... people always say "Trust your feelings"... sadly, with Cptsd, it's just not possible, so many of my "feelings" are just dead-wrong.
Thank you all again soo much.
#6
Recovery Journals / Re: Hope's Journal 2026
Last post by Chart - January 17, 2026, 09:16:21 PMHi Hope,
I read your opening post for 2026 and was very touched. But I didn't respond immediately, probably related to being interrupted by a child or suchlike :-) Anyway, I'm back and I wanted to say how much I sensed self-care and understanding in your objectives for this year. It was very touching to read and feel the love in your words to yourself. It was inspiring, thank you.
And your comment to your husband about your night cries was touching too. I totally agree, it's probably better that it comes out, than it stays in. This has been a thought of mine since my last EF. I had the strange thought last week, when I was feeling pretty terrible, something like, imagine if I DIDN'T feel this? That is to say, it's there, but I don't feel it? And the next thought struck me... is it possible that it's actually "healthy" to feel the pain? That the "negative modality" (the Trauma) that must/needs/wants to come out, is much much better since it IS coming out? Imagine it's there, but it stays inside, hidden, crushed, throbbing...
This has been along the lines of my thinking for a long time about the purpose of pain. I feel a little childish thinking this, but I've not really understood why there's so much pain... And the idea has slowly been forming that pain is part of healing... or even, pain "initiates" healing. Whether it's the start of healing or integral to the process, I'm not sure...
Sorry to divert a little bit on my ideas, but your experience of night terrors brought it up in a very interesting way for me. Though I am very sorry you are experiencing that.
Sending love and hoping for peaceful rest.
I read your opening post for 2026 and was very touched. But I didn't respond immediately, probably related to being interrupted by a child or suchlike :-) Anyway, I'm back and I wanted to say how much I sensed self-care and understanding in your objectives for this year. It was very touching to read and feel the love in your words to yourself. It was inspiring, thank you.
And your comment to your husband about your night cries was touching too. I totally agree, it's probably better that it comes out, than it stays in. This has been a thought of mine since my last EF. I had the strange thought last week, when I was feeling pretty terrible, something like, imagine if I DIDN'T feel this? That is to say, it's there, but I don't feel it? And the next thought struck me... is it possible that it's actually "healthy" to feel the pain? That the "negative modality" (the Trauma) that must/needs/wants to come out, is much much better since it IS coming out? Imagine it's there, but it stays inside, hidden, crushed, throbbing...
This has been along the lines of my thinking for a long time about the purpose of pain. I feel a little childish thinking this, but I've not really understood why there's so much pain... And the idea has slowly been forming that pain is part of healing... or even, pain "initiates" healing. Whether it's the start of healing or integral to the process, I'm not sure...
Sorry to divert a little bit on my ideas, but your experience of night terrors brought it up in a very interesting way for me. Though I am very sorry you are experiencing that.
Sending love and hoping for peaceful rest.
#7
Other / Re: Strange Occurrence: Deep D...
Last post by Chart - January 17, 2026, 08:57:39 PMQuote from: lowbudgetTV on January 17, 2026, 05:59:21 AMI like cute things. I like children. I like childish things. But when I think about the concept, the manifestation of a child being a child, my heart hurts and I fear it. I want to cry. I am filled with fear. Part of me also imagines an adult acting like a child and I am repulsed somehow, like a magnet. Yet still I am always drawn to these instances.lowbudgetTV,
For me the context is different, but the "conflict of feeling" (which is how I interpret what you wrote) is the same. It is hard to describe and explain, but I think you expressed it well: wanting one thing, but feeling torn and repulsed at the same time. Emotions or dissociation coming up from situations that we want to experience but are deeply conflicted by.
I believe this is one of the many symptoms of complex trauma. I believe it comes from having primal needs manipulated by caregivers in an unhealthy manner. That is to say, needing something, then having that thing manipulated or twisted such that we perceive that the thing is somehow conflicted with the emotional response of the parent.
Thank you for sharing this. I'm still thinking and reflecting on it as it seems to impact me in a very subtle way. But I'm closer to it now that I've read your post and processed my own feelings from it a little.
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by Chart - January 17, 2026, 08:33:04 PMQuote from: Papa Coco on January 17, 2026, 07:23:25 PMA book I'm reading now says that we need to forgive ourselves for the wiring. We aren't as responsible for ourselves as we try to believe we are. At least, I'm not. It described me perfectly when it said I'm like a leaf that's blowing in the wind but thinks I'm dancing of my own free will. That's been a comfort. I absolutely believe in personal responsibility, but I have to stop taking it so far as to think I can muscle through all the terrible things my family and church did to train me for most of my life. I'm behaving as I was trained to behave. I'm taking responsibility for myself by seeking help, admitting my feelings and fears, connecting with the right people, reading the right books...I don't need to behave like nobody's ever hurt me before. I can be responsible without believing I need to be undamaged. I like that old saying that our scars are where the light enters us.PapaCoco,
I'm so very sorry for your current state. I want to absolutely support and validate what you wrote. It cannot be said enough, cannot be repeated enough: We are not at fault for feeling terrified and triggered at events and situations we know all too well. This pattern was pounded into us when we were in development, construction, neuronal creating, processing and pruning... it is as if during the construction of the house, an evil clown passes every night and switches wires around, changes the plumbing, inverts doors, pulls out insulation, unscrews the drywall, saws through the beams, and tears off parts of the heating system... Day after day, and for years after, we keep finding things that break, don't work, explode suddenly... it just goes on for years. We got sold a lemon... a lemon of a nervous system and limbic brain... Visitors to the house, like our prefrontal cortex see very little, but we know, when the lights go out at night, and things start going wonky, we know, that f*ing clown was one sadistic sob...
I got an email from a narcissist yesterday. They demanded to know what I meant by "X". I read the email and felt the clench in my stomach, the twist in my gut, the shame-jolt through my heart. I reread the email, then reread what I had originally written... I never wrote "X"... For a good fifteen minutes, my brain did a somersault... I "tried" to figure it out...I tried again. I got scared. I felt their anger towards me. I began responding, writing, thinking of a way to explain to them that they got it wrong, that it made no sense, that they'd made a mistake. I began explaining the mistake, searching to express how I could be understood. Then I stopped. I realized I could not do anything. The feeling I felt inside was horrible. This sick person had just jabbed a pen into my wound of 57 years. Bloody heck... I deleted my email... I shut my computer... I walked away... But the feeling of "wrong" and "responsible" and "you're in trouble" stayed right with me... I still feel it now.
That "thing" is punched into my nervous system like a cannonball punches into the side of a ship...
PapaCoco, YOUR family was a forty-gun ship of the line, and they had but one target... But lord almighty, you are one tough son-of-a-gun... You're still afloat! How many broadsides did you take? That beautiful little innocent trusting boy, looking around, wondering... they tried to kill you, but you're still here, standing, weeping perhaps, but tears more justified I have rarely seen. I say, "Go ahead, slink around your house feeling however you want to feel. Hide, cry, rage, suffer... none of that comes from you, even if it's as deep as it goes... it's still not the "real you". The real you is on either side, before the torture began, and now that the torture is long done. That is the real you. And you know this is going to pass faster then in the past, faster than it ever has, because you have done the work, pushed forward, opened to the love. You're firing salvos yourself now, but they are bombs of love that explode like fireworks in that dark night sky. And by their light, we see a thousand other little ships out there alongside you, floating on the soft swell, all your friends who know and love you. We're watching your magic, PapaCoco, it's so beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting us be part of YOU...
#9
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by Papa Coco - January 17, 2026, 07:23:25 PMThe support on this forum is, without question, the core of my healing right now. Nobody here shames anybody for struggling to live with what the world calls "normal" behaviors. Nobody ever asks, "Why do you let that bother you so much?" This is a place of healing and safety and that's what's so helpful for me.
That being said, some things have changed since my last post.
The credit card fiasco was a tiny pebble that struck a huge, buried hornets' nest and I'm now being swarmed with 6 decades of angry bees that are making me feel attacked, unsafe and ashamed and alone.
Yesterday was a day of wandering around the house lost. I couldn't find peace. I felt fear all through my body. I was weepy and right on the verge of complete meltdown. The entire world feels dangerous. I can't protect myself or my family. After a lifetime of feeling chronic anxiety and fear, a hit like this heaps MORE fear on top of already existing fear and has pushed me into a state of debilitating overwhelm. Trauma: The gift that keeps on giving for a lifetime. Phooey!
I keep trying to remind myself of what my therapist would say. He'd say "This feels like a very young part of yourself. Hold your hand over your heart and welcome that young part to you and give him the love and compassion he has been wanting." It helps a bit, but I have a long way to go before it helps completely. Logically, I know that it's my dysregulation of my nervous system, and not that the world is too dangerous to live in. But trauma says, "Nope! The world has never been safe and it's not safe for you, so you NEED to find a safe place to hide!" I did some research on not feeling safe, and read about how since this is the second time this card was stolen in 3 months, my brain is now even more sure I'm never going to be safe. So, I spent the day walking around the house like a zombie trying to figure out how to hide from the world for good. It's important to note that I was raised by people who valued their money more than they valued me, so when my money is stolen, that just brings up all sorts of personal value problems. I was stolen from as a kid too. My family would search my room and throw away my little treasures while I was at school, and Catholic classmates would steal possessions from my desk at school when I was at home. My own elder sister and brother stole my inheritance when Dad died in 2011. I've never felt safe from thieves...MY OWN FAMILY AND THE CHURCH! I've never felt that I am strong enough, or man enough to protect my boundaries, even from my protectors. Money means much less to me than it should. It's not the money; it's the inability to protect myself that rattles my cage. It's knowing that my own family would trample my rights and boundaries anytime they want to. I don't care about the money being stolen, I care that I can't protect myself and my family from thieves AND siblings!
My lack of feeling safe for 6 decades has hit me hard these past 48 hours. Last night I got only a few hours of restless sleep, tormented by nightmares. While trying to fall asleep last night I kept seeing lights flashing through my closed eyelids, as if someone was turning lights on and off in my bedroom, but they weren't. It's more like the wires in my brain are frayed and sparking like a broken electric cord. I woke up at 3 AM from a long, chaotic, frustrating dream that my wife, (Coco) and I were in our home, but all the furniture was gone, and the house was crumbling around us. We were trying to repair walls, windows, doors, but all we had was garbage wood scraps and no tools to work with. An Amazon Prime driver came to the door with a delivery of some little filing cabinet I'd ordered but he never left the porch. Finally we opened the door to find out why he was still here. He said he had been instructed to assemble it for us on the porch before he could leave. We thought he was being nice, but he was angry, "Amazon made me buy this for you and sell it to you for no profit to me" he said. I replied, "That's not right! Stay here!" I went back into the house to find some money to give him as a tip and to thank him for doing it for us. It took me forever. I couldn't find anything. My anxiety was rising and I was getting clumsier and more upset by the minute. I kept dropping everything I picked up. I found a $50 bill but before I could get it to him it tore and crumbled into confetti. I could feel his impatience and hoped he hadn't given up and left. I FINALLY found my wallet and pulled out three $20 bills. When I finally got it to him he was irritated at how long it took me to find the money (that I didn't owe him but I gave it to him anyway). He just yanked it from my hand and stormed off. Even when I gave him a huge tip I was still the bad guy. That was the moment I woke up, my heart pounding. I immediately felt like I am completely unable to support my family and I'm the screwup my parents and school always told me I was.
It's like a prophecy that they created and I lived. Children can grow up to be what they are told they are going to be. And I was told I'm always going to be a screwup and other people are always going to have to carry my burden because I'm always going to screw it up. And every time one of my bill collectors contacts me now telling me they'll cancel my services if I don't fix the credit card, I feel that old, ancient prophecy, created by my FOO and church coming to life just as they'd predicted.
So, this is what I mean, the card issue is easily being handled. Nobody's going to throw me in prison for being a week late on bills, but every time someone texts me with a warning, my entire life of shame and incompetence floods all over me.
I've been accused, my whole life, of being a problem for my family to deal with. I was a burden. I was incompetent. I was weak and annoying. Every time they made a mistake it was my fault. My dad's money was more important to him than I was, and he made sure I knew that all the time. Mom did too. My siblings were allowed to want things, get things, even have romances with other people and get married and have children, but somehow, I wasn't allowed to do any of that. In high school I had to date girls in secret so my parents wouldn't freak out. At age 22, when I met Coco, I kept her a secret. One day I told them I was going to get married and they freaked out. (of course they didn't know I was dating anyone, but whose fault was that? What few girls they knew about when I was younger and dating, they pulled all kinds of tricks to break us up. They stole my possessions, my inheritance, and always, ALWAYS destroyed my friendships and love interests. They made it too dangerous for me to even share my wants and desires with them. My family only knew I was dating for one week. When I could sense my mother and my older sister starting to tell me lies about this girl they didn't know, I knew I had to act quick or they'd take her too. To make the long story short, Coco and I dated for 4 weeks, and eloped 28 days after our first date because we knew my family was planning to break us up, so we had to act quick. (That was almost 43 years ago now and we're still married).
To be honest, the past two or three days, ever since I wrote my last post and all those nice things about how I was handling the theft, have taken a dark turn toward crazy-ville. No matter how good I feel on any given day, I'm wise enough now to always remind myself that today is today. Tomorrow is a mystery. I may feel all better today, but this roller coaster is relentless. RELENTLESS! My EFs are fewer and farther between, but this one came on like a tsunami that nobody saw coming. The only reason I'm not drowning in it, is I've made connections now with others who know that what I'm feeling is real. The trauma. I'm not alone in trauma anymore. I now know that as ugly as it is, it's how I was wired by people who had no idea how to raise a child properly.
A book I'm reading now says that we need to forgive ourselves for the wiring. We aren't as responsible for ourselves as we try to believe we are. At least, I'm not. It described me perfectly when it said I'm like a leaf that's blowing in the wind but thinks I'm dancing of my own free will. That's been a comfort. I absolutely believe in personal responsibility, but I have to stop taking it so far as to think I can muscle through all the terrible things my family and church did to train me for most of my life. I'm behaving as I was trained to behave. I'm taking responsibility for myself by seeking help, admitting my feelings and fears, connecting with the right people, reading the right books...I don't need to behave like nobody's ever hurt me before. I can be responsible without believing I need to be undamaged. I like that old saying that our scars are where the light enters us.
Today, I'm about 8% better than yesterday. I'll take it. I've been learning how to work with my body, giving it some sense of agency so that even in the fear and emotional duress, my body feels comforted by some light breathing exercises, and permission to be unproductive for a few days. The only time I ever feel like I have the right to not be productive is when I have the flu. I need to know that this is worse than the flu and I'm NOT required to do my chores or save the world today. Today is going to be another day of wandering around like a zombie looking for someplace safe to hide, but I'm going to give myself permission to be okay with it. Coco is encouraging it. She knows what I'm going through and she's telling me to just relax and be lazy today.
Okay: My keyboard is smoking. (ha ha) I need to give my computer a rest. Maybe I'll draw a bath and hide in the dark for an hour.
Thanks, from the bottom of my heart for letting me be a part of this community.
That being said, some things have changed since my last post.
The credit card fiasco was a tiny pebble that struck a huge, buried hornets' nest and I'm now being swarmed with 6 decades of angry bees that are making me feel attacked, unsafe and ashamed and alone.
Yesterday was a day of wandering around the house lost. I couldn't find peace. I felt fear all through my body. I was weepy and right on the verge of complete meltdown. The entire world feels dangerous. I can't protect myself or my family. After a lifetime of feeling chronic anxiety and fear, a hit like this heaps MORE fear on top of already existing fear and has pushed me into a state of debilitating overwhelm. Trauma: The gift that keeps on giving for a lifetime. Phooey!
I keep trying to remind myself of what my therapist would say. He'd say "This feels like a very young part of yourself. Hold your hand over your heart and welcome that young part to you and give him the love and compassion he has been wanting." It helps a bit, but I have a long way to go before it helps completely. Logically, I know that it's my dysregulation of my nervous system, and not that the world is too dangerous to live in. But trauma says, "Nope! The world has never been safe and it's not safe for you, so you NEED to find a safe place to hide!" I did some research on not feeling safe, and read about how since this is the second time this card was stolen in 3 months, my brain is now even more sure I'm never going to be safe. So, I spent the day walking around the house like a zombie trying to figure out how to hide from the world for good. It's important to note that I was raised by people who valued their money more than they valued me, so when my money is stolen, that just brings up all sorts of personal value problems. I was stolen from as a kid too. My family would search my room and throw away my little treasures while I was at school, and Catholic classmates would steal possessions from my desk at school when I was at home. My own elder sister and brother stole my inheritance when Dad died in 2011. I've never felt safe from thieves...MY OWN FAMILY AND THE CHURCH! I've never felt that I am strong enough, or man enough to protect my boundaries, even from my protectors. Money means much less to me than it should. It's not the money; it's the inability to protect myself that rattles my cage. It's knowing that my own family would trample my rights and boundaries anytime they want to. I don't care about the money being stolen, I care that I can't protect myself and my family from thieves AND siblings!
My lack of feeling safe for 6 decades has hit me hard these past 48 hours. Last night I got only a few hours of restless sleep, tormented by nightmares. While trying to fall asleep last night I kept seeing lights flashing through my closed eyelids, as if someone was turning lights on and off in my bedroom, but they weren't. It's more like the wires in my brain are frayed and sparking like a broken electric cord. I woke up at 3 AM from a long, chaotic, frustrating dream that my wife, (Coco) and I were in our home, but all the furniture was gone, and the house was crumbling around us. We were trying to repair walls, windows, doors, but all we had was garbage wood scraps and no tools to work with. An Amazon Prime driver came to the door with a delivery of some little filing cabinet I'd ordered but he never left the porch. Finally we opened the door to find out why he was still here. He said he had been instructed to assemble it for us on the porch before he could leave. We thought he was being nice, but he was angry, "Amazon made me buy this for you and sell it to you for no profit to me" he said. I replied, "That's not right! Stay here!" I went back into the house to find some money to give him as a tip and to thank him for doing it for us. It took me forever. I couldn't find anything. My anxiety was rising and I was getting clumsier and more upset by the minute. I kept dropping everything I picked up. I found a $50 bill but before I could get it to him it tore and crumbled into confetti. I could feel his impatience and hoped he hadn't given up and left. I FINALLY found my wallet and pulled out three $20 bills. When I finally got it to him he was irritated at how long it took me to find the money (that I didn't owe him but I gave it to him anyway). He just yanked it from my hand and stormed off. Even when I gave him a huge tip I was still the bad guy. That was the moment I woke up, my heart pounding. I immediately felt like I am completely unable to support my family and I'm the screwup my parents and school always told me I was.
It's like a prophecy that they created and I lived. Children can grow up to be what they are told they are going to be. And I was told I'm always going to be a screwup and other people are always going to have to carry my burden because I'm always going to screw it up. And every time one of my bill collectors contacts me now telling me they'll cancel my services if I don't fix the credit card, I feel that old, ancient prophecy, created by my FOO and church coming to life just as they'd predicted.
So, this is what I mean, the card issue is easily being handled. Nobody's going to throw me in prison for being a week late on bills, but every time someone texts me with a warning, my entire life of shame and incompetence floods all over me.
I've been accused, my whole life, of being a problem for my family to deal with. I was a burden. I was incompetent. I was weak and annoying. Every time they made a mistake it was my fault. My dad's money was more important to him than I was, and he made sure I knew that all the time. Mom did too. My siblings were allowed to want things, get things, even have romances with other people and get married and have children, but somehow, I wasn't allowed to do any of that. In high school I had to date girls in secret so my parents wouldn't freak out. At age 22, when I met Coco, I kept her a secret. One day I told them I was going to get married and they freaked out. (of course they didn't know I was dating anyone, but whose fault was that? What few girls they knew about when I was younger and dating, they pulled all kinds of tricks to break us up. They stole my possessions, my inheritance, and always, ALWAYS destroyed my friendships and love interests. They made it too dangerous for me to even share my wants and desires with them. My family only knew I was dating for one week. When I could sense my mother and my older sister starting to tell me lies about this girl they didn't know, I knew I had to act quick or they'd take her too. To make the long story short, Coco and I dated for 4 weeks, and eloped 28 days after our first date because we knew my family was planning to break us up, so we had to act quick. (That was almost 43 years ago now and we're still married).
To be honest, the past two or three days, ever since I wrote my last post and all those nice things about how I was handling the theft, have taken a dark turn toward crazy-ville. No matter how good I feel on any given day, I'm wise enough now to always remind myself that today is today. Tomorrow is a mystery. I may feel all better today, but this roller coaster is relentless. RELENTLESS! My EFs are fewer and farther between, but this one came on like a tsunami that nobody saw coming. The only reason I'm not drowning in it, is I've made connections now with others who know that what I'm feeling is real. The trauma. I'm not alone in trauma anymore. I now know that as ugly as it is, it's how I was wired by people who had no idea how to raise a child properly.
A book I'm reading now says that we need to forgive ourselves for the wiring. We aren't as responsible for ourselves as we try to believe we are. At least, I'm not. It described me perfectly when it said I'm like a leaf that's blowing in the wind but thinks I'm dancing of my own free will. That's been a comfort. I absolutely believe in personal responsibility, but I have to stop taking it so far as to think I can muscle through all the terrible things my family and church did to train me for most of my life. I'm behaving as I was trained to behave. I'm taking responsibility for myself by seeking help, admitting my feelings and fears, connecting with the right people, reading the right books...I don't need to behave like nobody's ever hurt me before. I can be responsible without believing I need to be undamaged. I like that old saying that our scars are where the light enters us.
Today, I'm about 8% better than yesterday. I'll take it. I've been learning how to work with my body, giving it some sense of agency so that even in the fear and emotional duress, my body feels comforted by some light breathing exercises, and permission to be unproductive for a few days. The only time I ever feel like I have the right to not be productive is when I have the flu. I need to know that this is worse than the flu and I'm NOT required to do my chores or save the world today. Today is going to be another day of wandering around like a zombie looking for someplace safe to hide, but I'm going to give myself permission to be okay with it. Coco is encouraging it. She knows what I'm going through and she's telling me to just relax and be lazy today.
Okay: My keyboard is smoking. (ha ha) I need to give my computer a rest. Maybe I'll draw a bath and hide in the dark for an hour.
Thanks, from the bottom of my heart for letting me be a part of this community.
#10
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by TheBigBlue - January 17, 2026, 04:10:18 PM