Messages

I agree with everything everyone else has said, Three Roses.  Your presence on the forum has helped me over and over. I've quoted you many times on "what if you saw that happen to someone the age you were at the time?", which was a huge lightbulb for me.  I've pinched your ever-changing signature lines.  Your responses to my posts have never failed in empathy and wisdom, and I consider you one of my closest friends here.

You give and give and give, a gentle touch in everything you write.  Please make your healing a priority, and take just as long as you need.  We'll still be here. 

, with you right in the middle.

This topic has been moved to Sexual Abuse.

http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=7592.0

I have no idea how on earth you are managing to work on 4 hours of sleep a night!!

Nor do I.  This is all new to me.  I've had sleep issues since adolescence (chronic) and periodically it becomes acute, but never before for anywhere near as long as this.  It was months building up while I did dangerous things with various sleeping pills, so I can't even pinpoint the last decent night's sleep I had.  What galls me is the people at work thinking I've always been like this: zombified.  It took me days to figure out where I sit in a huge office, so that I got lost every time I left it.  That still happens after no-sleep nights, which are rather less common than the five-hours-max ones. 

This morning I estimate I got about three hours from the two pills I took around midnight -- the ones that feel like I've been drinking whisky all night, so I'm nauseous and headachey.  The previous night was a zero, so yesterday for the second time in a couple of weeks I walked in front of an oncoming vehicle: this one a bus in the town centre.  It hadn't even had time to slow down when I noticed the people in front of me wisely waiting to cross the road, and had my one second as an Olympic athlete.  It made me think, if I hadn't got out of the way in time it would have made the local paper as a suicide.  I really don't want that.

If I remember rightly, that so wasn't your impression going in.

Right as always, Blueberry.  I applied back in April and didn't get an initial interview for months, at which they told me I needed references -- my reason for doing the gig.  I then had to write an application, which took me days, after which I heard nothing (not even acknowledgment of receipt) and naturally assumed I wasn't good enough even for unpaid work.  Finally I had two emails on Friday 1st telling me to show up for work on Monday 4th.  To be fair, both had been sent on Thursday afternoon... and when I immediately replied saying I'd made other arrangements but would start Monday 11th, I got two automated responses with variations of: "I am out of the office until Monday (start date).  If your enquiry is urgent..."  One of the people then texted me at 9.15 on the 4th to say she was waiting at reception and where was I?  So that was truly a situation, but I got over being mad at them on day one because I saw how rushed they are all the time.

Rooting for you that you get some pay for this after the 8-week internship, if you want to and are capable of staying on, that is.

That would be good at this stage, but it's been made clear to me that the council isn't hiring for that department.  In fact I'm under the impression they get back-to-back interns to clean up the grunt work.  I know I'm fast, accurate, have learned their filing system and show up on time every day no matter what condition I'm in, but I look um... eccentric alongside people who have a good wardrobe and laundry system. 

Anyway, all is well here.  Thanks everyone for your good wishes.

Thanks for popping in here, hereforhope, and for your good wishes.

Thank you for the support you gave me. I dont think I deserve it.

You don't need to deserve it, but of course it's up to you what you do with it.

Hope therapy goes well...

For the latest update, see my Letter to a therapist, http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=7545.0

Four copies of that letter are going out today; two more have gone out via email.  Activism is where it's at for me now.

in adult form we do it subconciously, to imitate others, so we wont alienate them. That the others will feel a kind of "kinship" with us. It doesn't really work, either you're insulting or you're being laughed at. But it's not really a concious  thing.

I agree.  For way too long I was so desperate for something approaching a family that I was anyone's.  I think I'm getting better at boundaries.  I sure hope so!

Should have updated sooner, but today I'm starting week 3 of my eight-week internship at the council and I've been kinda pushed for time.  You wouldn't think so, would you, when someone's awake on average 20 hours a day?  But obviously there are times I'm completely incapacitated, eyes open and brain still whirring 800rpm.

Anyway, I'm enjoying the gig.  They're good people.  I'd happily do it for free. 

Oh wait... 

[I know I'll say "yes" even though I don't want to]

I get it, ToreyP.

• Having to leave the house.

I can leave the house okay (because H and I are currently 'living' with my MIL, and it's *) but I refuse point blank to go anywhere unless I know I can get home at any time under my own steam.  IOW, I need to know the way to the exit.

• It's usually not just them.  They often have their other friends there, too.

Yeah.  Can't do that, nor can I explain why to the people who've invited me.  That being said, I was recently heading to a pub with my bestie when she said: "A gay couple I know will be joining us later.  You're going to love them."  She was right, I did.  So you need the inviters to know you very well, and you need to trust them sufficiently that you know they won't put you with people who are Seriously Crass.  That's a big call -- especially for a non-Australian in Australia.  I lived there for years, and the Ocker idea of humour regularly offended and upset me.

• the fake me from work is not something that I can sustain for very long and it drains me.

Yes.  My whole life is an acting job, and if I'm tired eg. at the end of a busy work day, I just can't do it.  It doesn't matter if people continue to want to see me after I've broken down in tears; I'm mortified, so I no longer feel okay around them.

I have a fourth: the knowledge that I 'disappear'.  I cringe admitting it, but I adopt mannerisms, accents and even the values of people I spend too much time with.  One time I worked with a woman who pronounced every R as a W, and within hours I had the same speech impediment -- but only when she was present, and I'm sure it must have offended her.  This makes it absolutely intolerable for me to sit in the same room as someone ranting about queers, blacks, or the-holocaust-never-happened.

I'm aware this is a huge boundaries issue, but for now all I can do is be careful of the company I keep.  I no longer feel distressed when I have to confess how few good friends I have.  I tell them I value quality over quantity, because it's true.

I'm too scared to be put on the spot and asked to go out because I know I'll say "yes" even though I don't want to - I'm a people-pleaser.

You and me both, Torey, but I suspect I'm older than you are and I've noticed that my doormat behaviours never pleased anyone.  Quite the reverse, in fact.

Just my thoughts.

Liminality, you nailed it.   

Have a look at this, Eyessoblue. http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=7276.msg48816#msg48816

Stay with us, Regardz1.  We each have a horror story to tell, and we help each other along.  I'm glad you've joined us.   

[You can't keep a good woman down]

i doubt that suicide is often the cause of one big event, but rather a series of events that eventually come to a head with the 'last straw'. 

I agree.  It makes me mad when I hear "she owed a lot of money", "his wife left" or whatever.  For me, that's a fighting reason against suicide.  It would be too galling to think of people saying "her library book was overdue" because I'd finally succumbed.

Hair grows back, darling.  If it doesn't, wigs are good these days.  I often wish I'd lose what's left of mine, because colouring it is expensive or a chore, but going about with a head like an expired dandelion is worse.

i was p.o.'d that i was going to have to get back up once again and continue with the struggle (how many times can a person do this?), but it didn't turn out like that at all.  i'm convinced that this beast can be killed with love, and i feel it from all of you.  i know that i'm being love-bombed from all sides, from my regulars, from those who are new here (which is very touching), and from my hub and d. 

It makes me feel warm through and through to be included in the Sanmagical Coven!  We are witches casting love spells, like Samantha Stevens twizzling her nose.  You know what I tell myself whenever I think "Too much. Really, too much. I can't get up again from this"?  I think hey, I'm an old hand.  This isn't what I would have chosen, but it's what I do. What would I be doing with my life if I wasn't showing the world You can't keep a good woman down?

just like you all surrounded me as i was crossing the border and making my escape, you will all surround me again during another harrowing experience. 

One day last week I was in some horrible situation or another -- I've forgotten! -- and I remembered my people here.  Don't take this the wrong way, but y'all make a wonderful adjunct to the imaginary friends I've cultivated all my life.

this is the first time i haven't trusted a therapist, so it's a new and difficult feeling for me.  i want to have an open mind, but a part of me just doesn't know if i'm going to get stomped on yet again.  i've had enough mind smashing to last me a lifetime.

Of course! Me too.  Speaks flattering volumes about our minds, n'est-ce pas? Hope for the best and prepare for the worst is good sense when it comes to meeting a new T.

in the meantime, i'm still reticent to get real involved with the forum right now.  i've got all this other stuff i'm sorting out, and i just don't trust myself to give coherent responses.

Do you honestly think anyone here will forget you?  Ever?  Because I know I won't.  Take the time you need.

(i even feel guilty for not listing everyone's name here ...

Someone needs a hug real bad. 





Oh! It was me...

it's good that I'm still not doing the type of nitpicking work that always leads to SI. 

indeed!

Your T sounds great.  You're doing really well. 

[you]

What do you do when there seems to be nothing for you?

You invent a calm, wise, endlessly loving Voice that talks to you and reassures you the way you would help a distressed toddler.  You can do this on paper if you like, writing about your misery then writing what you would say to someone else in that position.  Or you can simply do it in your head, anywhere and at any time.

I did it in writing for more than two years, and it saved my sanity during a very isolated period in my life.  Since then I've been able to do it in my head, and I can tell you: it's life changing.

[can]

Just wanted to add my welcome here, Sceal, and tell you something you might find useful.

I too had a lot of unsuitable partners, for the same reason (no boundaries, feeling like I don't matter) as you.  When I was in my late 20s I confessed it to an older co-worker who was still gloriously and happily promiscuous herself.  She told me: "The only way I can live with it is by waking up a virgin every morning."  I slowed down at that point, because it stopped me thinking "What difference does one more make?" 

You certainly can "rise above and prove that they didnt destroy my life and that I do have some worth as well".  Like everything in life, it's just a head game.

Hugs to you, my courageous new friend.

I guess the question I then arrive at is, if I don't have children, what do I do with my life?

More of what you've always done.  Further study, travel, breed cats, work, gardening, spend time with friends...  My life has always been full -- not necessarily in positive ways -- without having children.

I most certainly agree that unplanned, unwanted teenage pregnancies are an unhappy affair, though I'm not sorry the welfare system does exist to help them, bare bones as it is around here.

Here in the UK it's definitely a career choice.  A relative got pregnant in hopes that her boyfriend would marry her.  He didn't, but the government housed her -- big house with a garden -- and paid her sufficient for her needs, running a car, etc.  She is now in her late 40s and has never held a job.  I heard a schoolgirl on a bus tell her friend she intended to have two mixed-race children, a boy and a girl, but not live with their father/s.  It's interesting to me that an overcrowded country like this is still so greedy for the tax £££ generated by cramming in ever more people.  Also, the job market here is appalling -- so many hurdles to get a job that pays considerably less than you'd get as a welfare mum.  I can understand school leavers feeling quite helpless.

Brains are just not developed enough to judge consequences at that age,

I agree.  I'm sure the teenager on the bus envisioned still going out nightclubbing with her friends, wearing trendy clothes and generally having a blast once school was out.  The babies (race and gender specified) were to be more akin to accessories than to people.

... throw an abstinence-only sex education program taught by Mormons on top of that...

Yes, that would make a difference!  These days, primary school children in the UK know exactly how girls get pregnant. 

I do wish everyone had to get vetted so scrupulously before having bio kids like they do for adoption or fostering.

I've often had the same thought, because I see small children being verbally abused all over the place.  But as we know, a family can look perfect on the outside while harbouring one or more vicious parents.  Also... I doubt first world governments will ever regulate people's sex lives and reproduction.  It was disastrous throughout Asia, which now has a monster demographic problem because so many baby girls were... eliminated. That would be awful too, right?

This is going to sound bizarre but I don't worry so much about them dying as I worry about their life being miserable.

Could that be a reflection from your own upbringing?  I've often thought it would have been kinder of my mother to smother me at birth, as soon as she knew I had the 'wrong' equipment.

I missed the warning signs of someone about to commit suicide once, it sure ain't happening again if I can help it.

That happened to me, too.   

I think you'd be a lovely mum, Frederica -- but I had that said to me, too, and I always said: "Too bad."