My story [Warning: potential triggers, especially EF. VERY LONG POST]

[bazou]

Hi I'm new to this board. I signed up earlier this week. I'm also new to C-PTSD as I heard the term for the first time only a few weeks ago, and started reading about it only a couple weeks ago. And now, I feel like everything that has been wrong in my life is starting to make sense.

[SIDENOTE: This post is reaaallly long, so I want to say one thing here, rather than the end: for those of you reading, thank you. Thank you for simply taking the time to read this. It means the world. You know this is true, because you know what it feels to have others validate you. So thank you again.]

A lot of you are using terminology that I'm still not all that familiar with. I'm still learning the lingo. I just learned that nasty ***** that sits on my shoulder is called my inner-critic. Heh, there's even a word for her, look at that. Anyway, the past few weeks have been overwhelming to say the least but here I am. I'm also a bit of a cynic and humour is an outlet for me, i'm not trying to be a jackass  (and I'm apologizing for who I am, which Is what i've done my whole life).

I don't even know where to start but after reading a couple stories on here, I decided to write mine as I've always needed to, just never had anyone to listen.

I was born in 1975. Both my parents came from abuse. We were lower middle class, my parents were first generation immigrants. I don't remember much of my childhood. I have huge memory gaps. I know that there were very happy times. On the outside. My dad's family was abroad so we grew up surrounded exclusively by my mother's side of the family, which was large and very tight nit, and we were at the centre of it. Weekends were spent at our house where everyone would congregate, uncles, aunts, and cousins running around. We took family road trips down to Florida every summer as a couple of my mom's siblings had moved down there with their husbands and kids. On paper, everything was beautiful.

I was a creative. From a very young age, I had a talent for music and drawing. I was also very intelligent, always an A-student in school. Around the age of 9 or 10 is when I started to revert inwards. I started spending more time alone, in my room, in my own universe. Art became an outlet. Again, I don't remember much, my memory of my childhood is really fragmented. But I do remember the feeling. That the only time I was at peace, and felt safe, was when I was alone, and in my own little bubble. So that started taking a bigger place in my life. It became my haven. It is also what started driving the over-achiever in me.

I also felt different. I started depersonalizing at a really young age. I didn't understand what was happening to me so I never told anyone about it. It was one of my first little dark secrets. I also felt that our family was different. Being out in the world and constantly feeling like I had to 'pretend' or hide. Something wasn't right. Just this feeling of uneasiness.

My mom always made sure that we stood out of the crowd - but not in the good way. That we felt excluded. I was that kid that was not aloud to go on school trips. I was the kid who wouldn't get the basketball team jersey because my mom refused to be bullied into buying it. Yet I was on the team, and everyone else was wearing it. Stuff like that. I was always 'that kid'. She constantly created situations for us that were humiliating, and made us feel like outcasts.

At home, she was tyrant. She brutally abused us. Me, my sister, and my dad. Verbally, and emotionally. There was no love in my house. There was no affection in my house. No hugs, No compassion, no empathy. Nothing. It was all aggression, yelling, insults, threats, bullying, fear, anger, and a hole lot of sadness. I think the first time I said "I love you" to anyone (or had it said to me), I was 17. I think the fist time my mom told me she loved me I was 21 (barf.. .no seriously, I ran to the washroom and puked from the intensity).

My mom would say things to us like "I'd be okay if you died", "I wish I never had you", and the list goes on. And this was a daily basis. She was also very controlling, and micro managed every single move anyone made in the house. Everything. From what we ate, to how long we spent in the shower. She was like a drill sargent.

She would ignore our birthdays. I mean nothing, no present, no party, no cake. Like we didn't exist. Who the f*** does that to their kids??? I have 2 boys. How in G-d's name do you not celebrate your kids birthdays???

We would come home from school, and my mom would have randomly put the house up for sale. For no reason. We'd ask what was going on, and she would say "Your dad and I are splitting up, and you guys are going into foster care tomorrow. I'm calling child protective services in the morning." This would happen on a monthly basis for years about the time when we were teenagers.

And the list goes on...

As for my dad, we watched her humiliate him, insult him, treat him like garbage. Over the course of 30 years, she destroyed his soul. By the time she was done with him, there really wasn't much left there. As a kid and teenager, I almost felt like he was the 3rd child as he was also a victim. But at the same time, the voice inside me hated him for being such a p***y and not standing up for my sister and I and not defending us. I could count the times in my life when my dad actually spoke up on our behalf.

As we got older and my sister and I became teenagers, things escalated. Our entire life was a crisis, fight or flight mode had become my normal by then. I was also depersonalizing on a daily basis by then.  But when things escalated even further - what can I call the level above crisis - hyper-crisis? She went as far as holding us hostage once. It lasted 2 days I think. We didn't go to school. She stood in front of the door with a knife threatening to kill herself, my dad or us if we didn't do as she said.

She stabbed and killed our pet turtle in front of us once (she waved the knife around - with the turtle on it - for a good hour).

She humiliated us. She stripped us of our self-esteem.

I'm leaving so much stuff out, I don't know what to include and what to leave out, there's so much to tell... but I'm trying to truncate this as best as can and piece all these things together.

My sister and I were very different. My sister, as a teenager, was the outgoing, pretty girl, life of the party, tons of friend. And the rebel. By the time she hit 16ish, she was pretty messed up and extremely rebellious. She had an eating disorder, that my mom chose to ignore, or occasionally point out and throw at her face as if she had caused it. My sister and my mom were both extremely incendiary in their anger, so the huge explosions ending up with someone calling the cops started to happen. It was craziness. Every. Single. Day. For years.

I, on the other hand, was more quiet, shy, reserved. While my sister was screaming and slamming doors, I was coming home with "Mom, I got 95% on my Math test". I was greeted by "Oh yeah? You could've gotten 100, why didn't you get 100?" (On the flip side, my sister would be rewarded when she got 75%, but persecuted by my mom for the way she looked. She was fat, she was ugly, she was this, she was that).

As a result of all this, my rebellion was inside. I escaped, in my head, in my art, in my daydreaming. I built up strength inside by becoming very self-aware at a really young age. My way of rebelling was to become as independent as I possibly could so I could just go. I wanted to run away. I wanted to leave. And that feeling of 'leaving' wasn't not something I necessarily associated to moving out. 'Leaving' for me, even though I couldn't quite explain it, meant, "Just survive for now, hold on as long as you can, until you're strong enough to stand on your own" (which I did repeatedly throughout my life).

At 17, I met my ex-husband, T. He was my first 'real' boyfriend. That relationship quickly became my escape. When I was with him, or his family, I felt at peace. I wasn't in fight or flight mode. It was a loving environment. I thought that was the answer. This would 'fix' me. Fast forward a few years of doing the boyfriend thing while my life at home is an active war zone.

During this time, My cousin D, who I was raised with like he was my brother - my mom's sister had 2 boys, single mom, they were with us 24/7 - shot himself in the head, a year after being diagnosed with Schizophrenia. I was with him when he died.

[A few months after that, something else happened to me which I'll come back to later. I'm trying to compartmentalize things in my head so that this makes sense for your readers, lol]

At 21, I told my parents I wanted to move in with T. Because I knew my mom would fly off the handle, because there was simply no other possible alternative reaction - I had packed a bag knowing how things would go down. She did indeed fly off the handle, and I took my bag and left that night and never looked back. I didn't speak to her for over 2 years.

For a bit, I thought I was okay. I was starting to lead a 'normal' life. Live with the boyfriend, get a decent job, go to University. That's what grown ups do, right? Yet, I was ridden with anxiety. I was one of those people that is really high strung and can't sit still for a minute. I was not fun to be around, I had trouble regulating my emotions and anger. I also started having health issues and no doctor could tell me what was wrong with me (chronic pain which I now know was the beginning of Fibromyalgia).

During that time, my boyfriend started drinking heavily (both his parents were alcoholics), and soon after, I discovered he had an addiction to cocaine. I helped him get clean over the course of a few months.

We got married and had my son L. After my son was born, I suffered from severe postpartum depression, which sent me into a tail spin. When L was about 6 months, I had some sort of massive breakdown followed by a few months of a very dark severe depression.

During that time, I was alone. I had no support system, and my husband pretty much abandoned me. I was home taking care of an infant, and I was so messed up. I remember waking up in the morning, taking care if L, changing him, feeding him, etc.  and then sitting at my kitchen table for hours and blacking out. I would function just enough to make sure my son's needs were taken care of, but other than that, I felt dead inside. I would black out for hours at a time.

I started isolating myself. I stopped taking phone calls, avoiding everyone in my life. One day, my best friend broke the window in my front door to get into my house because she was so concerned about me.

I remember one day covering all the mirrors in my house (I'm Jewish - in our faith, when you loose a loved one and are mourning, you cover mirrors up as a show of humility). My husband came home that day and saw the mirrors covered, he said with a grin on his face "Who the f*** died?" and i answered "I did".

I remember one of my scariest days. I was sitting on my bed with the phone in front of me as I was seriously thinking of calling 911. I just couldn't take anymore. And at that moment, I dissociated in a way that had never happened to me before. It was like a sci-fi movie, I felt like I went flying up to my bedroom ceiling and I could see myself sitting there on the bed with the phone. It scared the sh*t out of me.

I stayed at rock bottom for a bit. And then one day, I said 'enough!'. To keep it short, I started reading, I starting taking care of myself. I had also gotten my first Mac computer a during that time and had discovered Graphic Design. I threw myself into that. I also discovered the internet and chat rooms, and got seriously addicted to that world for a while which lead to some other very self-destructive behaviour. I'll come back to that.

I worked on myself over the course of a few months, I broke up with my husband, and started my journey to healing as a single mother. By then, I was 26.

I got better. A LOT better. I was in shape, I felt good, my self-esteem was peaking. I was doing well in my job, I was going through the motions of my divorce (there was drama there too but nothing I need to get into). We shared custody of my son L, and on the weeks I didn't have him with me, I started dating actively. I was the most outgoing and self-confident I had ever been in my life. My social life exploded, I was partying and having a blast. I also threw myself into learning everything I can about Graphic Design and slowly taking small gigs as a freelancer on the side.

As my dating experiences crashed and burned, I started becoming more aware of my complete lack of relationship skills. A lot of pain built up inside as a result - another thing I sucked at, another failure for me. But on all other levels, I was good. I started planning on starting my own Freelancing business.

I met a lot of guys. A LOT of guys. (I feel I need to include this for the simple reason that this is the absolute first time that I am actually being honest with myself, and I must be transparent). I was very promiscuous. Knowing men were attracted to me fed my self-esteem. At that time, as toxic as it may sound, that is what I needed. I've also been blessed with the libido of a 21 year old boy, bless my genetics or whatever that is. I was so desperate for love and validation. I also had not really had a normal adolescence and felt I had some catching up to do in terms of fun. So I went wild. The excitement was very addictive, and I won't lie, I had a blast and I've got great stories to tell girlfriends, lol. Even though I know now what was driving this.

However, I split my life down the middle. The wild me was only when L was with his dad. When L was with me, I was 100% mom... which I must elaborate on. Becoming a mother has saved me. I am very proud of saying I am an incredible mother. The day that boy was born I swore to G-d that I would die before I did anything to hurt him the way my mom did to me. I have cherished and showered him with love every day of his life. He is now a beautiful, creative, healthy, balanced 16 year old.

During all the years, the drama with my mother continued. She was in and out of our lives, constantly creating stress, anxiety. But I has some sort of peace as I was living my own life parallel to that. The demons in my head continued. I was still depersonalizing, maybe once a month at that point. Nobody knew a thing. I wasn't really pretending, I just always thought "keep going, you're on the right track, this is life, everyone has this". On the exterior, it seemed like I had picked up (or was picking) the pieces.

The single years lasted about 5 years then I met S. We met online. He completely swept me off my feet. He was smart, articulate, generous, caring, nurturing, and incredibly funny. He was a comedy writer. He was a creative. We could talk movies for hours. we lived in different cities 5 hours apart so we developed a friendship tainted by 'if you were here, I'd date you'. Finally after 3 months of long phone calls, he hit the road and came up to meet me. It was immediate. We fell in love, committed to each other. I started custody procedures so I could move with my son (from a career opportunity perspective, it made more sense for me to move there. I also secretly really loved the idea of starting fresh somewhere else). After 2 years of courts, and lawyers, and weekends spent driving back and forth between cities, I packed up myself and L and we moved down to be with S. I left everything behind. Everything. That was 2008.

I'm going to truncate the last 9 years, as I feel if there are still a select few readers still with me, I don't want to loose you too, lol.

We got married, we made a beautiful life for ourselves. S became incredibly successful (he's a casting director), I started my Freelance business here. I also took over the small agency I ran (that job I spoke about above) (Ironically, I had said 10 years before, "one day, I'm going to own this joint"). We bought a beautiful house. For a while, power couple. On the outside.

My mom created massive drama during those years. She didn't come to my wedding, nor did my entire extended family - she bullied them into cutting me off. But I was now in a different city. The distance helped create boundaries. i went to therapy and continued working through my 'baggage'.

S and I went through a rough patch when we decided we wanted to have another child. We went through 3 years of infertility, I had 5 miscarriages during that time, and one ectopic pregnancy that that nearly killed me (emergency surgery: my left tube has burst, they removed it). But we found a doctor who specialized in an alternative approach, and found our problem, and finally in 2014, our son I was born.

Things have been good. We've had moments of amazing and great, but we've also had some very dark times. We work really well together as partners, parents, friends. But emotionally, there has been this gap and distance that I have never been able to wrap my head around. Our relationship has been tainted by these toxic patterns that we just haven't been able to work though. The more time passes, the more resentment builds, so it hasn't been getting any better.

I also almost lost my sister during those years. Her journey through this has been drastically different than mine. It hasn't been easy for her. She developed some serious health issues (chronic asthma) along with a lot of unhealthy patterns, severe depression and not taking care of herself. In 2008, she had an asthma attack, and went into full respiratory failure. Her lungs collapsed and we almost lost her. She was in an induced coma for a week, and the doctors weren't certain she would make it. But she did. She got through it, but it has very much impacted her life to this day. She's on permanent disability from the aftermath of this.

My relationship with my sister was rough our entire life. We've been incredibly close, yet the most brutal enemies. She was one of the people I felt abandoned by for most of my life. I felt betrayed by her (there was a lot of bad blood I didn't speak about here, I'll write the book, you could read about it there, haha!). I am now understanding why. We have simply been triggers for each other our entire life. We are now talking about it for the first time and working through it. I even send her the link to this site.

In November of 2015, I started having flashbacks and nightmares about what happened to me at 18.

In short: I was raped by my cousin. We were the same age, we were very close, although he lived in Florida. I flew down for spring break to party with him in Daytona (what teenager doesn't want that??). He got me black out drunk, and I woke up naked in his bed the next morning, with him bringing me coffee like if it was consensual and normal. I was confused, and so messed up, I went along and made him swear to never tell a soul. I flew home the next day, back to my abusive mother, and bf, and pretended like it never happened. I never told a soul. For 23 years. Until last year when the PTSD, and nightmares and flashbacks started. I now remember the violence of that night.

This opened Pandora's box for me. I went to see a Shamanic healer (that's a whole other topic, which I would love to explore with those of you that are interested in spirituality). I did some soul searching. I even went back to school (in school full time right now). And last week, I discovered C-PTSD. And now, I feel I am coming home, for the first time ever. All that is wrong in my life is starting to make sense.

I'm now at a crossroads in my marriage. I am hoping S will come along for the ride, but I'm terrified like many others, he bows out with "I didn't sign up for this". If that should happen, I will get through it, although right now, I am frankly terrified. Because ultimately, I want to go on this journey with him. He's the love of my life. I'm so afraid.

I don't know how to end this, so I'll just stop here. As all of you know, there is so much more, but I'm ready to start melting that iceberg.

Thank you again so much for reading. Sending you all love and light.

[Wife#2]

Bazou you are a serious survivor! Your sister is as well, though she manifested differently than you.

I'm so glad to hear that you were able to break the abuse chain and keep your precious L safe. And your younger child as well!

Oh, yes, I'm sure you could write a book. Both from the volume of subject matter AND from your writing style.

It's really amazing, as we write these things down, how much more our memory opens up. It's all there. There are reasons, I'm sure, that the gaps appear, but when we're ready, and sometimes when we're not, but life forces us there, we remember.

I hope you have some time for the artistic expression that sustained you so often. I will say this - if your current expressive format is words, then you are indeed an artist skilled in her craft.

Welcome, Bazou. I'm very glad you are here and profoundly impressed with your story,  your survival and your talent. In short, I'm profoundly impressed with YOU. 

[bazou]

Bazou you are a serious survivor! Your sister is as well, though she manifested differently than you.

I'm so glad to hear that you were able to break the abuse chain and keep your precious L safe. And your younger child as well!

Oh, yes, I'm sure you could write a book. Both from the volume of subject matter AND from your writing style.

It's really amazing, as we write these things down, how much more our memory opens up. It's all there. There are reasons, I'm sure, that the gaps appear, but when we're ready, and sometimes when we're not, but life forces us there, we remember.

I hope you have some time for the artistic expression that sustained you so often. I will say this - if your current expressive format is words, then you are indeed an artist skilled in her craft.

Welcome, Bazou. I'm very glad you are here and profoundly impressed with your story,  your survival and your talent. In short, I'm profoundly impressed with YOU. 

Thank you. Your message made me cry.

Going back to school has changed my life. I am finishing in August and rebranding/relaunching myself as a visual artist and going after my creative/professional dreams. My life is insane right now between school, work, 2 kids a husband and 2 cats, but my semester ended yesterday and I have a few weeks break ahead during which I plan on spending a lot of time in my studio.

I also do love to write. I wrote a blog about our infertility journey. It got thousands of views and got picked up by CNN two years ago. I've always said I wanted to write my memoirs, or autobiography. But I never felt ready, or worthy. I've felt misunderstood and ignored my whole life. I didn't think anyone would care. But maybe once I'm done with all this

On another level, I feel my marriage is falling apart and that is the what is triggering me now. I just didn't understand all of it until just last week. My husband and I are seeing a therapist next week. I am hoping he will take my hand and come with me on this journey. But the alternative scares me as I can no longer stay in an unhealthy relationship. I don't want it to end, but I am also committed this journey. I'm exhausted. I want to enjoy my life. I don't want to this anymore. My message to him is basically "I'm going that way. You either join me, or you go your own way". Writing those words alone is triggering me.

I am in a better place now than I have been. I'm now armed with the piece of the puzzle that was missing. But I won't lie, I'm terrified. The thought of me and S possibly not surviving this at this moment feels like the end of my world.

On a more positive note, my children are my world. Being a mother has saved my soul in so many ways. By being everything to my kids that my mother wasn't to me is the most healing thing I could ever do. I beat myself up about a lot of stuff. I'm ugly, I'm dammaged, I'm awkward, I'm annoying, I'm weak, I'm unattractive. But the one good thing I've done in the world is those two kids. They are brilliant. And I am very proud of that

THank you again for your warm words. I needed to hear that 

[Candid]

I've always said I wanted to write my memoirs, or autobiography. But I never felt ready, or worthy. I've felt misunderstood and ignored my whole life. I didn't think anyone would care. But maybe once I'm done with all this

It may be something other than readiness or worthiness that holds you back. When we have CPTSD from a young age, it's hard to articulate a coherent narrative. I've read that in several places as well as heard it on a youtube about CPTSD. I've attempted to write my autobiography too, and found I couldn't explain even to myself why I made so many self-defeating and several times ruinous life choices. If I'd known then what I know now I could have had a very different life.

Anyway, welcome to the forum!  You're among people who get it, here.

[bazou]

It may be something other than readiness or worthiness that holds you back. When we have CPTSD from a young age, it's hard to articulate a coherent narrative. I've read that in several places as well as heard it on a youtube about CPTSD. I've attempted to write my autobiography too, and found I couldn't explain even to myself why I made so many self-defeating and several times ruinous life choices. If I'd known then what I know now I could have had a very different life.

Anyway, welcome to the forum!  You're among people who get it, here.

Thank you. I feel the same way. I'm so overwhelmed right now. I literally just woke up and I'm in tears.

As I became more and more self-aware, I understood why some things were happening but I could never explain it to anyone. And when I've tried, the message I got from the reactions were the expected "You don't know what you're saying", "stop being such a victim".

I've felt my whole life like I've been in a room full of people screaming at the top of my lungs and nobody hears me.

Thank you, Candid. Sending you a hug.

[Candid]

As I became more and more self-aware, I understood why some things were happening but I could never explain it to anyone. And when I've tried, the message I got from the reactions were the expected "You don't know what you're saying", "stop being such a victim".

I've felt my whole life like I've been in a room full of people creaming at the top of my lungs and nobody hears me.

All of the above, bazou, and a backatcha. At least we're safe here!

[bazou]

As I became more and more self-aware, I understood why some things were happening but I could never explain it to anyone. And when I've tried, the message I got from the reactions were the expected "You don't know what you're saying", "stop being such a victim".

I've felt my whole life like I've been in a room full of people creaming at the top of my lungs and nobody hears me.

All of the above, bazou, and a backatcha. At least we're safe here!

Thank you, Candid hugs your way!

[Wife#2]

Bazou, how are you holding up? I hope well enough.

You know, you can use the journal to 'get your feet wet' with that autobiography. Getting the details down AND getting them into perspective is very helpful. Besides my journals (yes, plural) here, I have a password protected computerized notebook that I write in. That helps me when I can't get here.

[bazou]

Bazou, how are you holding up? I hope well enough.

You know, you can use the journal to 'get your feet wet' with that autobiography. Getting the details down AND getting them into perspective is very helpful. Besides my journals (yes, plural) here, I have a password protected computerized notebook that I write in. That helps me when I can't get here.

Thank you. I want to. I'm having trouble finding time to write. My life is so hectic, i've got a million "projects" going on at once... huge changes going on professionally, and my kids, school and trying to be superwoman, which is what I always do. I have been making time for myself though, taking more time to do the things I love (went for an 8 mile walk in the woods last week), I went to see my Shamanic healer last Friday, which was incredible. I see my therapist tomorrow and S & I go to couples therapy again in a couple weeks.

I have been slowly reconnecting with the part of my life I left behind for so long. I wish I could get my hands on more pictures. I found a way to decrypt the password to my diary, which I haven't opened since 2002 and forgotten the password to.

My husband has shown some wonderful signs of starting to "get it". I'm seeing it.

I am feeling the process happen. That of course involves a lot of pain and darkness that's also coming back. I found pictures of myself in my 20s in places I don't even remember being at. It's scary, yet I am so ready to finally accept and face all this. But it's so damn heavy...

I desperately want to share, I need it so badly... but every time I want to, I stop because I feel like my entire day is going to get ruined as a result (the emotional toll every time makes it hard to stay focused) and I just can't afford to right now. [For example, I have some client work due in an hour, as I sit here and type and cry].

I know this forum is a safe place for me to do so, and that is worth so much.

[bazou]

I'm emotionally exhausted today. And angry. And sad. And yet, somewhere I'm happy I'm finally here. That this process has started, because I'm excited about what's on the other side. But at this moment, I wish it would stop. Forget floodgates, the dam has broken. Things are flooding my brain... and my soul. Every second that I am awake. Even at night, it wakes me up suddenly. It doesn't stop.

I've realized the past few days that dissociation was a much bigger part of my life than I ever imagined it to be. I'm remembering things. I'm remembering escaping to another 'universe'. I'm remember zoning out, and the feeling of just being there but not.

It freaks my out. Yet comforts me too. It's so confusing.

I saw my therapist today. I talked about the anger that is being born in me again. Of having been robbed of so many things. And as I get back to my desk, there I see an email from who else but my mom. Another email filled with guilt, and her pain.

You are alone, miserable. You've alienated everyone from your life. You've treated everyone you were supposed to love like garbage, which is the cause of why you are so miserable today... and yet, this is still about YOUR pain?

Go **** yourself.

That's how I feel right now.

[Wife#2]

HUG to you, Bazou. :: Shakes head :: She's not ready to be real. You are. Hurray for you, then!

I'm sorry that you are hurting and sad and frustrated and angry. Try to keep breathing and today will eventually turn into yesterday while tomorrow will finally get here.

HUGS again.

[Ct02]

I am so overwhelmed by feelings as the truth of my life is exposed. You are not alone. I am not alone.

[bazou]

I' ve been wanting to come back here to journal. I need to write so bad and get all these thoughts and emotions out. I wish I could just not sleep. I wish everything else could just stop. I wish I could just escape to a little cabin in the woods for a month by myself and just process all this, and grow, and heal and write.

I am now experiencing a friend not being okay with what is changing in me. I knew this was part of the process - loosing people as a result - but this came out of left field. My best friend. My sister, but just not biologically. Let's call her R. We've known each other since we were 6. We have never fought... Well, not since we were about 16.

Three weeks ago, after spending way too much time with my sister - biological this time - which propelled me into one of the longest and worse emotional flashbacks of my life, I went into a really severe tailspin. I was not well. The best way I can describe it is like a really bad anxiety attack which lasted about a week 24/7. I desperately just needed some time to disconnect from the outside noise and just focus on me, and the 'now'. I told R I needed a few days alone to deal with stuff.

R is one of the people I've been afraid of 'standing up' to or putting my foot down with. I'm realizing now one of the reason we haven't fought in 26 years is because I've been a doormat. This time, despite the escalation which would've normally freak me out and make me back down, I stood my ground.

In a nutshell, me simply asking for time alone escalated in World War III and she is no longer talking to me.

I did not see this one coming. I'm at a loss.

[bazou]

I am so overwhelmed by feelings as the truth of my life is exposed. You are not alone. I am not alone.

No, you aren't. I see this is your first post. Welcome. I hope this place brings you comfort, and knowledge, and hope

[clarity]

Hi Bazou

Your courage is so inspiring... thankyou for sharing your story. 
Have just had the same lightbulb of finding the cptsd info and forum and though I was aware of the abuse previously, it has now hit home in a new way altogether. And like you, I can feel the resolve for change and determination to move into the next phase of healing, exhausting though it is.  We are soul warriors! 

It is priceless to find the site and people who know. Just priceless.
I hope you are doing well and will check out some of your other posts...