You have a situation similar to mine. I have only been about 6 months in my own place now, and I'm not formally diagnosed with C-PTSD.
Throughout my life, I have bene judged everytime I was vulnerable and let a piece of me be shown. For example, aside from when I was really young, and plastered magazine cut outs of the backstreet boys all over my bedroom walls, I was never truly allowed to embrace who I am, and have it nurtured. I don't know why, but my mother did not seem to like who I was internally. If I were to describe myself right now, while ignoring the serious self-defeating thoughts implanted in my brain, I would tell you I am a healer. I embrace kindness, acceptance and spend my days encouraging other people to uncover their hidden potentials - I'm also a social worker by trade. I would give you the shirt off my back if the situation required it. In saying that, my mom thought that was dumb. For whatever reason, she preferred judging people and reveling in who was right or wrong in any given situation - and if you can guess, the majority of the time she would proclaim she had been wronged. Anyways, back to my apartment - here, I struggled to have anything in here but the bare minimum - bed, couches, tv, coffee table..you know, the basics. People asked me to put pictures of friends up..I didn't know how to tell them I didn't have any. That I didn't feel safe enough to expose myself like that yet. I had a really good friend who tried to help me out and understand my struggles, but since I didn't know what was happening with me (I didn't realize how bad I was suffering yet), she ended our friendship (at least for now). She was the first person who I was sharing the DEEPLY buried stuff with, so you can guess that hurts a lot. However, now I'm here. Alone - can be very isolating. In this apartment, with not a single soul telling me what I need to be doing, thinking, feeling, saying, breathing, living, nothing. Sometimes it's isolating, and other times it's freeing. I too have looked in the mirror wondering who that person was staring back at me. Part of it is because you've moved out on your own - that's a natural thing to happen, to grow into a new sense of identity. But, the rest of the stuff is the garbage you have to go through and ask yourself why you packed it and brought it to your new place. This time, YOU get to decide what and who you want in YOUR home. You don't have to put up with anyone's crap. But as we all do, it sounds like you took baggage with you that you'd rather have left behind. That's what I'm working on.
Everything you described is exactly what I was feeling, am/have gone through. Practice self-care and slowing down to ask yourself what will make this home feel safe for you. This is your opportunity to break free and change your life to how it should've been in your youth. It took a while, but now you're finally able to let yourself grow up in a safe and nurturing environment. Hope you can learn to enjoy it.
Throughout my life, I have bene judged everytime I was vulnerable and let a piece of me be shown. For example, aside from when I was really young, and plastered magazine cut outs of the backstreet boys all over my bedroom walls, I was never truly allowed to embrace who I am, and have it nurtured. I don't know why, but my mother did not seem to like who I was internally. If I were to describe myself right now, while ignoring the serious self-defeating thoughts implanted in my brain, I would tell you I am a healer. I embrace kindness, acceptance and spend my days encouraging other people to uncover their hidden potentials - I'm also a social worker by trade. I would give you the shirt off my back if the situation required it. In saying that, my mom thought that was dumb. For whatever reason, she preferred judging people and reveling in who was right or wrong in any given situation - and if you can guess, the majority of the time she would proclaim she had been wronged. Anyways, back to my apartment - here, I struggled to have anything in here but the bare minimum - bed, couches, tv, coffee table..you know, the basics. People asked me to put pictures of friends up..I didn't know how to tell them I didn't have any. That I didn't feel safe enough to expose myself like that yet. I had a really good friend who tried to help me out and understand my struggles, but since I didn't know what was happening with me (I didn't realize how bad I was suffering yet), she ended our friendship (at least for now). She was the first person who I was sharing the DEEPLY buried stuff with, so you can guess that hurts a lot. However, now I'm here. Alone - can be very isolating. In this apartment, with not a single soul telling me what I need to be doing, thinking, feeling, saying, breathing, living, nothing. Sometimes it's isolating, and other times it's freeing. I too have looked in the mirror wondering who that person was staring back at me. Part of it is because you've moved out on your own - that's a natural thing to happen, to grow into a new sense of identity. But, the rest of the stuff is the garbage you have to go through and ask yourself why you packed it and brought it to your new place. This time, YOU get to decide what and who you want in YOUR home. You don't have to put up with anyone's crap. But as we all do, it sounds like you took baggage with you that you'd rather have left behind. That's what I'm working on.
Everything you described is exactly what I was feeling, am/have gone through. Practice self-care and slowing down to ask yourself what will make this home feel safe for you. This is your opportunity to break free and change your life to how it should've been in your youth. It took a while, but now you're finally able to let yourself grow up in a safe and nurturing environment. Hope you can learn to enjoy it.
