Recent posts
#1
Recovery Journals / Re: Healing or Holding On?
Last post by Papa Coco - Today at 02:36:40 PMDissociation is so easy to fall into. I've always said that if Catholic school hadn't had windows, I might have been a better student. I spent all day, every day, staring out the windows pretending I was somewhere else. Then I grew up into a world that then invented the internet, social media and 24-hour TV.
Distractions are so incredibly easy to fall into. When I get frustrated at life, I do like you: I go to the internet and sift through endless images of beautiful places I'd rather be than here, or I read articles about other people's problems. Then, every evening, my wife and I sit on the sofa and watch mind-numbing TV shows for hours on end. The next day we don't even remember what we watched.
You're not alone with this. I'm glad you talk about it here. When I first joined the forum a few years ago, I thought I was unique and when I talked about my dissociative problems that I was confessing something others would gasp at. It didn't take long to come to realize that I was joining a group of people who already understood what I was going through.
Knowing I'm like others helped me feel less alone in life. I hope it helps you in a similar way.
Distractions are so incredibly easy to fall into. When I get frustrated at life, I do like you: I go to the internet and sift through endless images of beautiful places I'd rather be than here, or I read articles about other people's problems. Then, every evening, my wife and I sit on the sofa and watch mind-numbing TV shows for hours on end. The next day we don't even remember what we watched.
You're not alone with this. I'm glad you talk about it here. When I first joined the forum a few years ago, I thought I was unique and when I talked about my dissociative problems that I was confessing something others would gasp at. It didn't take long to come to realize that I was joining a group of people who already understood what I was going through.
Knowing I'm like others helped me feel less alone in life. I hope it helps you in a similar way.
#2
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by Papa Coco - Today at 02:21:12 PMI'm really glad I found these Binaural meditations when I did, because I really need them now, and they are helping me to connect with a more peaceful sense of calm energy.
My family is struggling. My kids are struggling. If I didn't have the OOTS forum, my therapist, and the tools I have been able to connect with, I'd be in pretty bad shape right now.
So, as I'm dealing with the chaos of human life, and of trauma life, I'm also connecting with the peace of the meditations. I do one each morning, another after lunch, and I go to sleep with one each night.
This morning, during my 40 minute meditation I thought of how there are three ways to propel forward. 1) Incremental Propulsion: A bird flaps its wings, both wings at the same time propel it up and forward, but then the wings stop propelling so they can recoil for the next "flap." Why doesn't the bird fall to the ground at the end of each downward flap? Because of the momentum it achieved with the flap. The momentum gives it a chance to recoil and get ready for the next flap. The momentum keeps it moving while it readies for the next propelling flap. 2) Continuous Propulsion: A jet engine needs no recoil. It burns fuel and provides constant propulsion. But, momentum is still a part of it. Most airplanes can fly for a little while if the engine shuts off. A 767 can fly for up to 18 minutes after it runs out of fuel. 3) Alternating Propulsion: The third way I think of how propulsion works is the two legs of a person walking. Each leg does like the wings of the bird. Each leg propels us forward incrementally, then recoils for the next step. The bird flaps both wings at once and then recoils both at once. But the legs of a person take turns propelling. We're like half bird, half jet engine. Momentum isn't as needed when we walk, because one leg or the other is always pushing us forward.
My meditations, for now, are like the flapping of the wings. I go up and forward three times a day. The momentum of what I get from the meditation keeps me moving forward, but, like the bird, if I stop flapping, I'll fall back down to the earth. Momentum between "flaps" only lasts for a little while.
Posting on the forum, or participating in any therapy, are also like the bird's wings. I sometimes wish I could see my therapist every day, but I've learned that the two-week intervals between sessions gives me enough momentum to keep moving forward, while the true healing happens in the two weeks where I practice whatever I learned in the session.
I guess the healing happens during the moments between propelling flaps. Sometimes I think that true peace is found in the space between past and future and in the brief silence between words or the pause between inhales and exhales. The clutter of life is deafening, but between each and every breath is a moment of silence and peace.
My goal for today is to try and anchor myself to the silent moments between the words and the empty space between the flaps of the wings. Chaos and clutter are happening all around me, but so is the peace between each flap of the wing. Maybe, if I keep focusing on those moments of recoil, I'll connect better with the peace that's happening between each flap.
My family is struggling. My kids are struggling. If I didn't have the OOTS forum, my therapist, and the tools I have been able to connect with, I'd be in pretty bad shape right now.
So, as I'm dealing with the chaos of human life, and of trauma life, I'm also connecting with the peace of the meditations. I do one each morning, another after lunch, and I go to sleep with one each night.
This morning, during my 40 minute meditation I thought of how there are three ways to propel forward. 1) Incremental Propulsion: A bird flaps its wings, both wings at the same time propel it up and forward, but then the wings stop propelling so they can recoil for the next "flap." Why doesn't the bird fall to the ground at the end of each downward flap? Because of the momentum it achieved with the flap. The momentum gives it a chance to recoil and get ready for the next flap. The momentum keeps it moving while it readies for the next propelling flap. 2) Continuous Propulsion: A jet engine needs no recoil. It burns fuel and provides constant propulsion. But, momentum is still a part of it. Most airplanes can fly for a little while if the engine shuts off. A 767 can fly for up to 18 minutes after it runs out of fuel. 3) Alternating Propulsion: The third way I think of how propulsion works is the two legs of a person walking. Each leg does like the wings of the bird. Each leg propels us forward incrementally, then recoils for the next step. The bird flaps both wings at once and then recoils both at once. But the legs of a person take turns propelling. We're like half bird, half jet engine. Momentum isn't as needed when we walk, because one leg or the other is always pushing us forward.
My meditations, for now, are like the flapping of the wings. I go up and forward three times a day. The momentum of what I get from the meditation keeps me moving forward, but, like the bird, if I stop flapping, I'll fall back down to the earth. Momentum between "flaps" only lasts for a little while.
Posting on the forum, or participating in any therapy, are also like the bird's wings. I sometimes wish I could see my therapist every day, but I've learned that the two-week intervals between sessions gives me enough momentum to keep moving forward, while the true healing happens in the two weeks where I practice whatever I learned in the session.
I guess the healing happens during the moments between propelling flaps. Sometimes I think that true peace is found in the space between past and future and in the brief silence between words or the pause between inhales and exhales. The clutter of life is deafening, but between each and every breath is a moment of silence and peace.
My goal for today is to try and anchor myself to the silent moments between the words and the empty space between the flaps of the wings. Chaos and clutter are happening all around me, but so is the peace between each flap of the wing. Maybe, if I keep focusing on those moments of recoil, I'll connect better with the peace that's happening between each flap.
#3
Neglect/Abandonment / I had to save myself, cause no...
Last post by LadyBoar - Today at 11:20:28 AM(TW mention of Gr**ming and R. - no description nor graphic content)
Hey there, everyone.
This past week I have been struggling a bit. You see, I have finally seen clearly how much neglect I have faced in my childhood, since a few memories keep popping my head and I can't stop think about it.
When I was 9 or 10 I used to play online games on the family computer (it was in the living room). In one of this games I was almost groomed. I used to play with this person I thought was a boy my age, we even got married in game...one day we decided to talk via messenger, and he asked to see me through the webcam, but he didn't have one. I did. I was just so happy someone seemed interested in me. He said I was pretty, he wanted to know about the things I liked, I showed him my pets etc. Then he got a glimpse of someone's feet on the couch behind me where my mom was napping, he asked who was it, I told him it was my mom. He immediately left the chat and I never saw him again.
It took years for me to understand what had happened, and when I told my mom about it (I was trying to warn them about how my young cousins should not have private computers in their rooms without supervision) she and my sister told me that I was naive and stupid for believing him.
Then when I was 16 my mom wanted to see a dietitian to loose weight and I wanted to as well( I was slightly overweight, my family kept mentioning it and at the same time complaining if I didn't finish my meals). We went to this doctor and in there he did not let my mom get in the room with me. He asked me to leave my purse at the entrance. He then did the appointment where he told me he would make me look like a princess. He gave me a prescription and on the way out I put my hand forward to shake his hand, he grabbed it and pulled me into a hug, and if I had not turned my head instead of a kiss on the cheek he would have kissed me in the mouth. I get the * out of there and tell my mom how he made me uncomfortable, how he tried to kiss me and how I would not be coming back or taking his pills. Her response was that I must have misunderstood him. That he was old school and she thought he was gay (which does not change the fact he tried to kiss me but anyways). A few months later he is arrested and later sentenced for multiple R.s he committed on his patients, and when I told them "See! I told you he was weird and dangerous!" They just say something along the lines of "wow, who would have thought, that's crazy".
No wonder when I was R. by my ex I did not feel like I could tell them. Even though I tried to test the waters, I told my mom and sister my ex was emotionally abusive and my mom told me to not talk like that or people would think he hit me.
Another time was when we where celebrating new years in my grandma's house, we were in the front yard watching the fireworks. My dog got excited and started to run around and bumped into my aunt who almost fell. My uncle (aunts husband and my mother's brother) tried to kick my dog. Luckily he missed. I called him out and he came towards me very aggressively. This tall old men yelling at my face and my mom? "No, daughter. He is just joking" luckily the rest of the family for once saw what happened and jumped to grab my dog and to pull my uncle to the side.
No matter what happened, no matter if I told them or if they saw it. I was never believed. Growing up the only thing protecting me from a gr**mer or a r**ist was cheer luck and my own self determination. And when something awful happened and I was R. multiple times by an ex. I was left to deal with it alone.
I guess I just wanted to write this down cause as I said, I was never believed. But it happened. It all happened. Thankfully my therapist and husband always believed in me and supported me. But I'm really struggling to interact with my family right now.
( TLDR. I had multiple instances of been abused or almost abused (physically and sexually), in my childhood, teenage and young adult years. My family never believed me. They never protected me and now I'm struggling to interact with them.)
Thank you all for reading it and for participating in this forum. It does help a lot.
Hey there, everyone.
This past week I have been struggling a bit. You see, I have finally seen clearly how much neglect I have faced in my childhood, since a few memories keep popping my head and I can't stop think about it.
When I was 9 or 10 I used to play online games on the family computer (it was in the living room). In one of this games I was almost groomed. I used to play with this person I thought was a boy my age, we even got married in game...one day we decided to talk via messenger, and he asked to see me through the webcam, but he didn't have one. I did. I was just so happy someone seemed interested in me. He said I was pretty, he wanted to know about the things I liked, I showed him my pets etc. Then he got a glimpse of someone's feet on the couch behind me where my mom was napping, he asked who was it, I told him it was my mom. He immediately left the chat and I never saw him again.
It took years for me to understand what had happened, and when I told my mom about it (I was trying to warn them about how my young cousins should not have private computers in their rooms without supervision) she and my sister told me that I was naive and stupid for believing him.
Then when I was 16 my mom wanted to see a dietitian to loose weight and I wanted to as well( I was slightly overweight, my family kept mentioning it and at the same time complaining if I didn't finish my meals). We went to this doctor and in there he did not let my mom get in the room with me. He asked me to leave my purse at the entrance. He then did the appointment where he told me he would make me look like a princess. He gave me a prescription and on the way out I put my hand forward to shake his hand, he grabbed it and pulled me into a hug, and if I had not turned my head instead of a kiss on the cheek he would have kissed me in the mouth. I get the * out of there and tell my mom how he made me uncomfortable, how he tried to kiss me and how I would not be coming back or taking his pills. Her response was that I must have misunderstood him. That he was old school and she thought he was gay (which does not change the fact he tried to kiss me but anyways). A few months later he is arrested and later sentenced for multiple R.s he committed on his patients, and when I told them "See! I told you he was weird and dangerous!" They just say something along the lines of "wow, who would have thought, that's crazy".
No wonder when I was R. by my ex I did not feel like I could tell them. Even though I tried to test the waters, I told my mom and sister my ex was emotionally abusive and my mom told me to not talk like that or people would think he hit me.
Another time was when we where celebrating new years in my grandma's house, we were in the front yard watching the fireworks. My dog got excited and started to run around and bumped into my aunt who almost fell. My uncle (aunts husband and my mother's brother) tried to kick my dog. Luckily he missed. I called him out and he came towards me very aggressively. This tall old men yelling at my face and my mom? "No, daughter. He is just joking" luckily the rest of the family for once saw what happened and jumped to grab my dog and to pull my uncle to the side.
No matter what happened, no matter if I told them or if they saw it. I was never believed. Growing up the only thing protecting me from a gr**mer or a r**ist was cheer luck and my own self determination. And when something awful happened and I was R. multiple times by an ex. I was left to deal with it alone.
I guess I just wanted to write this down cause as I said, I was never believed. But it happened. It all happened. Thankfully my therapist and husband always believed in me and supported me. But I'm really struggling to interact with my family right now.
( TLDR. I had multiple instances of been abused or almost abused (physically and sexually), in my childhood, teenage and young adult years. My family never believed me. They never protected me and now I'm struggling to interact with them.)
Thank you all for reading it and for participating in this forum. It does help a lot.
#4
Emotional Abuse / Re: Death by a Thousand Cuts
Last post by TheBigBlue - November 22, 2025, 09:36:02 PMGentle TW: childhood emotional trauma + a brief reference to violence (non-graphic).
I've been thinking a lot about the idea of "death by a thousand cuts," and how psychological maltreatment often doesn't look like obvious abuse. I remember telling my therapist: "a child in a war zone experiences trauma, but the world recognizes the trauma. My trauma was invisible." So reading this article hit very close to home for me.
For most of my life I believed that my childhood "wasn't that bad." I focused on the obvious story - my NF scapegoated me, was emotionally absent, and openly treated my sister as the golden child. I thought that was my trauma. (Aside from some unfortunate "big T's" like witnessing a terror attack in 1980.)
But the past month of therapy has shown me that the equal - or even deeper - wound came from the parent I always saw as "the loving one." My mother wasn't abusive in the obvious way; but the article describes my experience with painful accuracy: chronic emotional neglect mixed with enmeshment ("inconsistent caregiving"), parentification, and countless moments of misattunement. There was no co-regulation, no protection from stress, and no space for me to grow a sense of self.
My mother had a lot of unprocessed trauma herself, and much of it was handed down to me - likely even before birth (see this article: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-parents-rsquo-trauma-leaves-biological-traces-in-children/). I understand the roots, but understanding doesn't erase the fact that I was failed by the people who were supposed to protect me.
Those subtle "cuts" created the wounds the article lists: shame, self-erasure, hypervigilance, a lost sense of identity, the belief that I take up too much space, and the feeling of being "too much" and "not enough" at once. It was confusing because my mother also loved/loves me deeply. But as the article explains, the harm isn't from one event - it's from the needs that were never met, and from having to be the emotional adult in the relationship long before I had a stable foundation myself.
I'm grateful this community speaks openly about these quieter, more covert forms of trauma. It's helping me finally understand my own history with clearer language - and helping me let go of the habit of minimizing what happened. It makes me feel a little less alone.
I've been thinking a lot about the idea of "death by a thousand cuts," and how psychological maltreatment often doesn't look like obvious abuse. I remember telling my therapist: "a child in a war zone experiences trauma, but the world recognizes the trauma. My trauma was invisible." So reading this article hit very close to home for me.
For most of my life I believed that my childhood "wasn't that bad." I focused on the obvious story - my NF scapegoated me, was emotionally absent, and openly treated my sister as the golden child. I thought that was my trauma. (Aside from some unfortunate "big T's" like witnessing a terror attack in 1980.)
But the past month of therapy has shown me that the equal - or even deeper - wound came from the parent I always saw as "the loving one." My mother wasn't abusive in the obvious way; but the article describes my experience with painful accuracy: chronic emotional neglect mixed with enmeshment ("inconsistent caregiving"), parentification, and countless moments of misattunement. There was no co-regulation, no protection from stress, and no space for me to grow a sense of self.
My mother had a lot of unprocessed trauma herself, and much of it was handed down to me - likely even before birth (see this article: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-parents-rsquo-trauma-leaves-biological-traces-in-children/). I understand the roots, but understanding doesn't erase the fact that I was failed by the people who were supposed to protect me.
Those subtle "cuts" created the wounds the article lists: shame, self-erasure, hypervigilance, a lost sense of identity, the belief that I take up too much space, and the feeling of being "too much" and "not enough" at once. It was confusing because my mother also loved/loves me deeply. But as the article explains, the harm isn't from one event - it's from the needs that were never met, and from having to be the emotional adult in the relationship long before I had a stable foundation myself.
I'm grateful this community speaks openly about these quieter, more covert forms of trauma. It's helping me finally understand my own history with clearer language - and helping me let go of the habit of minimizing what happened. It makes me feel a little less alone.
#5
Recovery Journals / Re: Dalloway´s Recovery Journa...
Last post by Hope67 - November 22, 2025, 06:26:05 PMQuote from: Dalloway on October 27, 2025, 07:21:30 PMLately I´ve been involved in different activities with different groups of people that filled me with a lot of energy. For the first time in my life I experienced real human connections and presence in the company of other people. It gave me the impression that I truly exist, that I´m not just an abstract something without borders and contours. This experience was out of this world and left me wanting for more. The more real I start to feel, the more I need to be connected to the reality. I realized that I´ve always had this need, I was born as an expectation for it. So when I started to experience it, it was as if a valve had been opened and now I yearn for more. I know that there´s huge amount of love that I´m capable of giving and receiving and that it´s always been my natural need.
This is lovely - I am also happy to hear you've experienced real human connection
#6
Recovery Journals / Re: starting over
Last post by Hope67 - November 22, 2025, 06:20:16 PMWow, great that you've completed the book (you and your D) Congratulations! 
#7
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by Hope67 - November 22, 2025, 06:19:16 PM
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: I Am
Last post by Hope67 - November 22, 2025, 06:18:02 PMHi Bach,
Even noticing that good feels unsafe is a step toward understanding yourself, and maybe it's ok to let good feelings arrive in small doses, so they don't feel overwhelming. I don't know. But I'm sorry that you didn't sleep well last night and that you're feeling low as can be today. Sending you a hug of support, although a very gentle one, as I know you're experiencing hurt today.
Even noticing that good feels unsafe is a step toward understanding yourself, and maybe it's ok to let good feelings arrive in small doses, so they don't feel overwhelming. I don't know. But I'm sorry that you didn't sleep well last night and that you're feeling low as can be today. Sending you a hug of support, although a very gentle one, as I know you're experiencing hurt today.
#10
The Cafe / Re: The Love of Libraries
Last post by Hope67 - November 22, 2025, 06:05:19 PMI feel joy when I enter a library, it is exciting, comforting, and I feel excited as I look to discover which books to accompany back home. I really love it.