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Thank you for your reply, Multicolour 

I loved the idea of including my future self in this exercise, next time I'll try to do that. It'll be like validating my child self, who really needs validation and support, while having present a version of myself that I wish to become...

Anyway, thanks again! 

Saki

First post here!
Ever since I discovered my parents have PDs, that and what I've been exploring in therapy, I've been having vivid dreams and flashbacks of my traumatic childhood, things I forgot to protect myself, mostly. Sometimes the flashbacks don't start until I get a hold of what I'm feeling, I have anxiety and panic disorder but I don't know what triggers me most of the time to go on a full blown panic attack, where my body shakes and my heart seems to be ready to explode. My therapist told me about CPTSD and advised me to assess my emotions when I have panic attacks, to locate in time when I felt that way and then get grounded. This is how the flashbacks come,
Recently, I've been having a lot of night terrors, I hear my NM voice, or my brother comes knocking down the door of my room... anyway, one of these nights I was barely conscious but was able to pinpoint the time when I felt that way, and I woke up with memories ranging from when I was 5 till 10, the times my mom hit me, and the first and worst was when I was 5 and had night terrors so dreadful that I was afraid to fall asleep. My mom, instead of comforting me, beat me really bad and dragged me back to my bed. I knew right then that she didn't love me, not like a loving mom does. But to protect myself I let myself forget about this episode.
I went to the living room and started to sob. When my boyfriend woke up and saw me like that, he asked me what happened, and after hearing that story he was livid, and told me he didn't understand why I was crying and not feeling anger towards my mom. And then it hit me: it's not about mom anymore, is about me. I was crying for the little girl who felt so unloved she would rather cry herself to sleep every night for years than to ask for help from her mother, from the one person who should've protected her. As I sobbed, I saw the little girl on my mind, and I cried with her telling her she would be loved someday, not to worry, and to keep her kindness, because that was going to be what would set her free.
It really worked for me, to talk to my past self, so to speak, to allow myself to feel sympathy towards a version of me in the past.
Does anyone relate with this? I would love to see your thoughts on that...

Saki