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I've been thinking of death a lot lately. Not because I want to die. But because I want to live, so badly, and I feel like i'm blocked and restricted from all the things that I love about life or want to experience so badly. The very fact that I want to live, makes me "want to die".

I have suicidal thoughts all the time, it's nothing new to me and I don't take them literally. I know that they are just a signal that there's some stuff going on that I need to address.
But boy have I been having a lot of signals lately, and I don't feel like there's anything I can do about the actual issues at the moment...It's so frustrating!

*Trigger warning: self harm, sexual stuff, CP*

Hey y'all...

So i've been doing a lot of thinking lately.
Ever since I discovered that my father is a (communal) narcissist, I seem to be seeing narcissists or at least toxic people everywhere. It makes me wonder whether there really are that many crappy people out there, or whether i'm turning something into nothing. But here's the thing: i've been thinking about my past relationships, and one of them in particular, with the man that I married. I was 19 at the time when I married him and 21 when we divorced, and i'm 35 now, so it's a long time ago. But remembering things and reading though old diary entries, and although over the years I always just told myself that he was really insecure (as was I) and that resulted in some toxic behaviour from both of us...i'm starting to wonder if there was more going on.

I'd love to gain some opinions or insight from you guys...was I abused?

For starters, I was 16 and he was 23 when we met. He found my MSN-profile, we lived in the same town and we ended up meeting. He was incredibly kind, supportive and understanding (almost in a cliché kind of way) for the first few months. I was wildly in love, but think it was at around 6 months when I started to doubt our relationship but I stayed anyway.
I know for a fact that he is attracted to young pre-pubescent girls, and I also know for a fact that he looks at CP. I'm starting to wonder if I was really in love, or if I was groomed.

He was very passive aggressive; I walked on eggshells around him. He acted nice around others, but if for example someone made a comment that I knew would ignite his insecurities, I felt the tension hanging in the air and I knew i'd be spending the next hours or days enduring the silent treatment or having to suck up to a sulking boyfriend. He never outright said what was wrong until there had been at least a few hours of sulking prior, and I had 'worked hard enough' to get it out of him.
Example: He bought two tickets to see The Who, then asked me if I wanted to come. I said no, it's not really my thing. He found someone else who cancelled later, then asked me again. I still said no. He didn't bother to look for someone else. Instead, he waited until the last minute ignoring me and sulking, then at the last minute got mad at me for ruining his evening. Then he began to pack his sleeping gear and said "if you're not coming, I might as well stay there". So I said "sure, will you call me if you decide to stay over?" and he put on a bitter face, stopped talking to me and left.
He also acted like this if I wanted to go someplace alone or hand out with friends. He always wanted to be with me, and would sulk and act passive aggressive if I did something for myself.

Example 2: He was a professional vocalist/vocal coach. I was an amateur vocalist. We both took part in a talent show, and he won the first round. He then emailed the organizer and told them to give his place to me instead, since it wasn't fair the he -a professional- won from me -and amateur-. They declined, and so I decided to participate again for the second round. I won, so we both ended up in the finals and battled it out. It was great fun, I thought, and I ended up winning the finals against him. He was entirely silent on the way home, and I already knew what was coming so I tried to be extra nice and divert his attention. I wanted to go to bed when we got home, it was late, but he insisted on opening my prize (a new dvd player) first. Then after that, we went to bed and he stopped talking to me. After days of sulking, he ended up crying in my arms that it wasn't fair how hard he had to work for everything, only for an amateur to win.

Example 3: He refused to get his drivers license, but did expect me to help him out all the time. I got up at 5 in the morning every day, did a paper route, went to school or work, got home late in the evening and sometimes he would ask me to wait an hour at the train station so that he could drive home with me. If I refused (it was late, I was tired and I had another early morning ahead), he'd just hang up the phone.

Example 3: we developed a way of talking to each other in kids voices. It may seem like just a quirk, but we did it ALL THE TIME. Like, we couldn't have a normal adult conversation. For me, it was a way of being able to say things that I otherwise couldn't get away with: if I said it in a different voice, it sounded like a joke that I could easily take back if I noticed that what i'd said triggered him.

He ignored how I felt, didn't take it seriously at all, or turned it into something else.
Example: In the stage in which he was starting his own business, he was on the phone all the time. I was fine with it, it needed to be done, but it also got to a point where I actually missed him.
We were on a trip at some point, and we were in the bus together talking, then his phone went again and he immediately picked it up. I felt rejected, and when he was done, I tried to tell him that I missed him. He got really annoyed and angry, saying that it was ridiculous since he was right there. And he said 'you know how it is, I have work', to which I said yeah, I get it, I just also miss you. He did this jaw clamping thing (which he always did, that's how I could tell he was angry) where I could see the muscles of his jaw tick, but he didn't say anything. And then he'd just stop talking to me again.

He could be explosive in anger.
Example 1: I'd come home from a long day at work, and he had been home all day at his pc (he worked evenings). He hadn't made dinner yet, although it was his turn that day. I said hello, he ignored me. I asked him if he was planning on making dinner soon, and he ignored me. So I left him alone and sat down at my own pc. After about an hour, I asked him again, which he ignored. Then, after about 15 minutes, he angrily got up and demanded "Well?! What do you want to eat then?!". Caught off guard, I said "Uhhhh" and he replied with: "Well?!?". So I said "Hey, calm down, you've been ignoring me for over an hour, you can't just demand I answer you in a split second", to which he got so angry that he threw a bowl of cutlery accross the room and stormed out. I then left to have dinner at a friends house (this was before mobile phones where a big thing, so there was no whatsapp or anything), which I didn't tell him about. When I got home a few hours later, he was in a total frenzy and his parents were there consoling him. He was crying that he'd searched everywhere for me and was scared that I was going to hurt myself (I was depressed at the time), and he'd called his parents, my parents, my friends, he'd even called the hospital. Then the rest of the evening, he was sweet as ever and pretended nothing had ever happened.
Example 2: We planned a holiday in which we were going busking, and he wanted to practice our repertory almost every day for weeks on end. It was driving me nuts, as I already knew the songs and was tired of practicing. So at some point, when he asked to try again, I sighed. To which he got so angry that he threw his guitar across the room, causing a hole in the side. Then he started saying "Now look what you've done, my guitar is ruined".  I was so terrified that I had a panic attack, which he tried to console. Afterwards, we talked about it and since I was too scared to say that it was because of him, I told him that i'd just been really busy and stressed at work. To which he got really nice and protective and took me over to my parents, to talk to them about letting me have a day off.

He could be very derogatory, or give backhanded compliments.
I remember having a discussion with him about someone elses behaviour, where I tried to explain where it came from and he replied with something along the lines of "That's the most ridiculous thing i've ever heard, you're an idiot if you believe that". I also remember that years after our wedding, he told me about how his parents had been embarrassed by the clothing my brothers wore to our wedding (they had gotten new clothes, nice but casual, not in suit or anything). And I explained that to him, but he agreed with his parents that it was disrespectful.

When I was ill with depression and self harming, it was always about him. He didn't believe depression was real, he thought that it reflected badly on him. He thought that if I did enough fun things and loved him enough, it would go away. So for example he convinced me to go a holiday with him that I didn't really want, asked me to pay for half of it, and I didn't enjoy myself at all. Of course I didn't: I was depressed. But when he asked me after coming home whether i'd enjoyed myself, I told him honestly that no, I hadn't. And he was so mad! Que more silent treatment.
Whenever he found out i'd harmed myself, he was the one who would sulk and cry about it, or get mad. And then i'd be the one consoling and making up to him. My parents didn't know at the time that I was on medication and self harming, let alone that I was in therapy. I was planning to tell them during out first family therapy session. But my husband took that opportunity away from me when he got so mad about an incident, that he ran out of the house, called my parents and told them (when then came over to my house bawling, which was awkward).

He was incredibly insecure and easily felt rejected.

Example 1: If I didn't feel like being intimate (which I often didn't, as I was depressed and on meds that greatly reduced my libido), he didn't take rejection well. He'd turn away and sulk until I would come and make up to him. After a few years, there was a point in our relationship where I couldn't be bothered rejecting him anymore since I didn't want to deal with the consequences, so I'd just let him do his thing, or i'd pleasure him and get it over with. It was dark, so he couldn't see my face anyway. I remember a moment where he had gone off to sleep and I was just laying there with tears rolling down my face, completely frozen so as that he wouldn't notice.

Example 2: When we were having a hard time during out marriage, he developed a crush on a friend of mine who lived close by. She was a few years younger than me and had quite a few issues herself.
My husband told me about this crush, and I acted quite understanding. Not only was I doped up on medication and didn't feel much at the time, but I also understood that given the difficult time we were having, it made sense that he was attracted to some kind of distraction. When I told him this, he got really mad at me, and then really sulky. Instead of being relieved that I was being understanding, he was insulted, saying that this didn't bother me enough for someone who supposedly loved him.

After we split up, I found out that he had been telling people that I was crazy. Telling them that I read too many books about depression/self harm/ED/s, and talked myself into developing them.

We had remained friends after we split up and we spoke to and saw each other regularly. He often cried about how lonely he was, and how he missed having someone who knew everything about him and accepted him, like I did. And then he got a new girlfriend and stopped replying to my messages from one day to the next. If I ever run into him, he turns into a side-street and avoids me completely. I told myself that it was because his new girlfriend was uncomfortable with us, but i'm starting to think that I was just discarded.

Another weird thing: I have no memory of the majority of our honeymoon. I remember where we went, and I remember getting in the train to go there. I remember arriving at the hotel, and taking off my dress. I remember one other snapshot in my brain, of a bridge in that city. That's it, nothing else. I have no clue what else we did that weekend.


I'm curious about you guys's perspective on this...

I wonder how many others recognize this.

Most people will understand the difficulty with giving people criticism. However, I also have a really hard time giving compliments too. Not because I don't want to, I really do. But I'm always scared that someone will think i'm overreacting, that it's weird, creepy, that i'm clingy, or something like that. I'm scared that the person will think "ew, get away from me". Obviously this is a remnant of the way I was treated in the past. I get where it comes from. But it does bother me that people often think i'm cold or just don't care, while in reality there's so much i'd like to say that I am just too scared to express.

I do challenge myself with it sometimes, when i'm feeling strong enough. Today I even wrote someone I look up to, "fanmail" to tell her what her art meant to me. But now that it's in the mail, i'm terrified that she'll be disgusted. Not because I think she'd be like that, but because part of me still believes i'm inherently disgusting...

How do you guys navigate this?

[Teachings]

Teachings

People often see narcissists as those overt, obnoxious and obvious ***holes, who will put you down and criticize you to your face. Never helpful, kind or supportive.
And while some narcissists operate like that, my father was a lot more covert and tactical in getting his needs met. It took me 33 years to figure out what was going on, and even now i'm only just scratching the surface. I'm beginning to unravel his tactics and understand why it looked so nice on the surface, but wreaked havoc underneath.

I often wondered why I  felt so awkward, subdued and on my toes around my father. Why was I scared, why didn't I trust him, why didn't I feel safe even though it really did seem that he was a typical loving and supportive father? I thought it was my fault, that I was ungrateful, insecure, that I had trust issues...I even went so far as to accuse myself of setting my father up to fail, just so that I could be mad at him. I felt horribly guilty about it, and outwardly did all that I could to counteract that.  I trusted him and let him in, even when my gut said that I shouldn't. You're supposed to trust your parents, after all. Right?

Recently, I was wondering why I always felt so ill prepared to handle (adult) life, despite my fathers "love and support" and wise lessons. In my adolescent years, these fears led to depression, self harm, eating disorders and suicidal ideation. In retrospect, all a means to hide from the responsibility for a life that I felt ill equipped for. It brought me back to the way my father would go about teaching or helping me.

My father would "teach me things". Though he rarely would actually teach me what I needed to know. For him, teaching was more of an opportunity to showcase how good he was. I would generally leave the situation feeling more insecure and frustrated than I did before his help. And he would never do this in an overtly mean or derogatory way. Quite the opposite. Which made it very hard for me to put my finger on what (or whom) the problem was.

However excited, nervous or insecure I was, he would always start by offering to teach me what I wanted or needed to know. He would assure me that it was really easy, and he'd be with me every step of the way. Then he would demonstrate. And he would do this so quickly or vaguely that I couldn't really figure out what he had done. He would then look at me with this weird goofy smile, as if to say, "Tadaaaa, did you see how good I am?"

I would ask him to repeat it, but slower this time. And he would do the exact same thing, maybe a little slower, but skipping steps or making it vague. I was none the wiser. He would then ask me to try it, and if I hesitated, he'd reassure me once again how incredibly easy it was. I just needed to have faith in myself. So I swallowed my insecurity and gave it my best shot...and failed miserably.

My frustration would increase as i'd ask my father to repeat the process again. He would stay nice, but by now he was barely able to hide his own impatience. He would slow it down in a condescending way, and I would feel the tension under his plastered smile. I began to think that it was my fault. Maybe I was just stupid, or too insecure, like he always said. Why else would I need so much extra help?

Usually, this is where I would give up and pretend that I understood. I needed him to know that I wasn't really that stupid. And I didn't want him to explode, even though i'd hardly ever seen him do it. There was something about his unnatural calmness and rationality that scared the * out of me. It couldn't be his fault though, he was being so nice and helpful. And if this thing was really as easy as he made it look, I must be an idiot who was making way too big a deal out of it.

Sometimes i'd be feeling gutsy enough to ask him again. That's when his secret contempt would get the better of him. The more he "helped", the more frustrated we would both get. He wouldn't overtly say it, but his glances and sighs were like constant blows to my stomach. On one occasion, he eventually threw his hands in the air and yelled: "Are you kidding me? Are you doing this on purpose? Are you just pretending to be a complete moron?"

After that, he would throw me in the deep end. I would find myself in a situation where I had to do the thing, and I felt like I should know how, but in reality I didn't. Whether he was watching or not, I could feel him judging me. The confusing thing was that if nobody else was looking, I felt that he needed me to fail in order to feel better about himself. But if others were watching us, I knew I had to perform. Because in public, he liked to show me off, and failing would make him look bad. Often, he would praise me and show me off in front of others to a point where I felt increadibly uncomfortable, only to ignore or criticize my actions when we got home. Finding that balance was like walking a tightrope.

What I learned from my father, was to never to let anyone to find out that I lacked a certain skill or piece of knowledge. So i'd avoid things, run away, bluff my way out, anything to avoid showing my incompetence or having to ask for help. I became a master in figuring things out for myself, keeping my eyes and ears open at all times to pick up missing information from others without having to ask. If I did something, I had to do it right the first time, and make it look easy. I lived in a constant state of terror, as though I was an imposter amongst all these people who knew what they were doing. I was afraid i'd be found out, ridiculed and cast out.

I adapted myself to observe and learn quickly, thus making me as independent as possible. I didn't want to need anyone. Yet the constant anxiety simultaneously kept me tethered to my father. I was unknowingly under his control. I felt like I needed him, because I couldn't handle this big scary world without his support to fall back on. I felt helpless, being so ignorant about the ways of the world and yet not being allowed to make mistakes or ask for help. I felt paralyzed, and his 'support' was the medicine that I kept taking, believing that it was helping me while it was actually what was paralyzing me in the first place.

An example that still fresh in my memory. Two years ago, my father convinced me to quit my job, start my own business and work together with him.
Although I never wanted to be a full-time entrepreneur and I had told him this on numerous accounts, he eventually wore down my objections and lured me in. He told me to trust him, he'd done it all before, it was easy as pie and he'd support me all the way. I asked him to help me formulate a business plan, and especially a financial plan. So one evening, I drove an hour out to his house and sat at the table with him, nervous and excited, hoping to get some things planned out. I was freaking out at the idea, because I had no idea how all this worked. We spent about three hours at the table, and I went home with hardly five words on paper. We'd talked, alright. But somehow all my questions were never quite answered. He would start to answer, say something like "Oh, simple, you just do this..." and then digress into a different subject, or a vague word-vomit that I couldn't make any sense of. He told me not to worry, that it wasn't all that complicated and that I had all the info I needed. I was not at all reassured, but I felt like my need for details, plans and information were starting to annoy him. So I figured maybe I was making too big a deal out of it, and I should just trust the process and dive in. Which is exactly what I did.

No sooner had I quit my job, and my father sent me a text message asking me if I had a financial plan yet. I told him no, nothing other than we had put on paper together (which consisted of: how much I wanted to make, and how many clients I needed for that). He suddenly got very stern with me, and told me that it was a very important part of business, and I needed to sort all that out as soon as possible. He even suggested I quit my second freelance job (my only source of a little income at the time) so that i'd have more time to work with him. At first I thought he was joking, or testing me. After all, previously he wanted me to let go and just jump. Maybe he wanted to see if I was really as strong, resilient and secure as he wanted me to be. So I responded almost jokingly, that I'd work it out as I went along. I was sure that this was what he wanted to hear. I was wrong. He responded that he was willing to help, but that he didn't want me to be dependent on him. He said that quitting my job had been my own choice, and that it was my responsibility to do everything within my power to make my business work out. He said that if I didn't work out that plan, I could not come crying to him if everything went to sh*t.

I was absolutely flabbergasted, as this was the complete opposite from the breeziness he'd shown when we were sitting at the table discussing my future plans. My gut told me that I had made a terrible mistake, and yet I pushed on. Two months later, I'll spare you the details, but everything fell apart. This was the beginning of the end, in terms of our relationship. It took only a few more straws on my back, to make it clear that I needed to get out.

In the end, it took removing him from my life and travelling across the world on my own, to discover that I don't need him as much as I thought I did. It took leaving him behind to discover that he was the one that was sick. I dicovered that I have the power, the right and the ability to live my own life, think my own thoughts, feel my feelings, meet my needs and set my own boundaries. It's a long, tiring and scary process, but i'm doing it scared and it's more than worth it.

I've only ever shared this once before in a therapeutic setting that I thought was safe, and was met with so much shock and judgement that I never opened my mouth about it again.
Hoewever, I still feel the need to get it out, explore what it could mean, and hopefully find out more about it. I can't imagine that i'm the only one who has them. There have to be more people out there, but there's so much taboo on the subject, that nobody really talks about it. I hope to find some people who can relate, and explore what it's function/symbolism/meaning might be.

Disclaimer beforehand: These are thoughts that I would NEVER act on, and that I don't take literally in any way. They are no reflection of who I am, or what I do. They are just thoughts.

Ok, so here goes. Trigger warning, mentions aggression towards children.

Ever since I was young (I have memories of this going back to..I don't know..seven?), if I hear a child cry or whine in a certain way, it triggers instant aggressive thoughts in my head.
I feel this intense rush of anger, and I see myself lashing out, hitting the child, sometimes just completely beating them up. I can't really descibe the trigger exactly, it's a very specific type of cry and it makes me wonder if it represents something that happened to me, that I just don't remember. But it could be more broad, obviously. Repressed anger over injustice that was done to me, that I then project onto someone else. I don't know. Either way, I feel really ashamed and horrible for having these thoughts, and i'm terrified that if people knew, they would think that I'm a bad person who can't be trusted with children. Which is absolutely not the case. Like I said, i'd never do it, or want to do it. They are thoughts, and many people have vengeful or aggressive thoughts/fantasies that they would never consider acting on.

Anyway...i'm really curious if there's anyone else out there who has this, it would be somewhat comforting to know that i'm not alone. And i'm really curious if you guys have theories as to what it could mean, where it could come from, or what function it has. Thoughts?

I recently had an interesting, unexpected experience (in retrospect, I probably should have expected it, haha) and I was curious if any of you recognise it.

I have a dog. I love him to bits, but we did have a rough start (mostly on my part). We have always had family dogs, and ever since I got out on my own, I wanted a dog. It was never an option because of my being alone and combining it with work etc, but three years ago, the opportunity popped up to adopt a dog. He's a rescue and has seen countless shelters and family's, so he has some attatchment issues of his own (hates other dogs, but clings anxiously to humans), and he's a quirky, bouncy little sweetheart.

I'm a little nervous about sharing this, because i'm afraid of being judged for how I felt. But i'm going to share this here, as it's a safe space.
As much as I wanted him, and as prepared as I was...When I first got him, I felt horrible. I felt trapped, I looked forward to the days that he'd be staying somewhere else and i'd be free, I was even secretly calculating "how many years we had to go", and I felt like i'd made a big mistake. At the same time, I didn't want to give up, and I was terrified that people would find out how I felt. I knew i'd be judged and they'd think I was a horrible person. To be clear, I would NEVER hurt him, this all played out in my head, and I made sure that these feelings never reflected in how I cared for him. Although, being as sensitive as dogs are, he probably did feel the distance, too.

I have an avoidant dismissive attachment style. And it may be naieve, but I'd never expected this to play out with an animal. Especially since we'd always had dogs in the home before, i'd just never been the only caretaker. Also, i'd had pets before (mice, rats, fish, birds) and never had that feeling. I suppose the panic I felt, was triggered by the fact that a dog is so much more 'human-like' than those other pets. They are so much more "interactive", and requires actual bonding, opening my heart to him, making more sacrifices and being more responsible for someone other than myself. I mean, a goldfish isn't going to stare me down for 'not giving him attention'. A dog certainly will.
So suddenly I found myself not being able to just do whatever I wanted, stay out whenever I felt like it...everything I did, I had to take my dog into account. And so I felt trapped.
Subconcioiusly, it was probably also that deep-down fear of abandonment; I know he's not going to be around forever, so why would I bond with him and lose him in the end?

Anyway, it literally took me over a year to break through that wall. I feel guilty that it took me so long, honestly. But i'm glad that we sorted it out.
The interesting thing is; it was resolved in a dream. I remember that my dog was out staying the night at a sitter while I was away on business. And that night, I dreamt that his previous owner had come to pick him up, and found a new owner for him over the internet, without telling me about it. In my dream, I thought i'd be relieved, but I was intensely sad. I asked if I could come to say goodbye, but when I went to their place, I could hear them in the distance but I couldn't find them. And I was devastated, crying my eyes out.
When I woke up, I missed him enormously and couldn't wait to pick him up. It's like that dream showed broke through the wall and all of a sudden I could feel how much I actually love him, and let it in. We've been fine ever since.

I honestly think that this was a really important step. Maybe even a first step towards healing that avoidant attachment around humans as well. I like to think that my dog had played a really important part in my healing.

Thoughts?

A little over a year ago, I went no contact with my narc father.
My parents divorced not long before that, and my mother took her maiden-name back.

Pretty much ever since I cut my dad out of my life, I've been toying with the idea of legally having my surname changed to my mothers name.
I let the thought go, in part because it's a hassle and very expensive, and because I didn't want to act on a whim. But the though still lingers, and it's actually getting stronger.

I don't want his name anymore. Getting it changed, would be like a symbolic step towards freedom and being myself. Somehow, having his name still sort of feels like i'm his property.
And me having his name is one thing, but the thought of my future children automatically recieving his name although he did nothing to deserve it, that just pisses me off.

I don't want it to be a 'revenge' thing or whatever, that's not what it is, although I will admit that there's still quite a bit of anger there.
It feels more like breaking a cycle. My father's father was also a narc, though my father is of the communal sybtype, and my grandfather more malignant. There's probably more family history there that I don't know about, considering these disorders also come out of trauma. To me, it feels like saying, hey, that legacy you gave me, you can have it back. I'm moving forward on my own accord.

Also, I don't want to be linked to my father so easily anymore. My father still uses MY story in his marketing (he's a mental health coach/trainer) to lure in new coaching clients that he can screw over. "Hey, look at me being all vulnerable and relatable and knowledgable because my daughter faught mental health problems, so trust me, I know what i'm talking about, I can help you". I don't want to be a part of this, I don't want to be linked to this, and especially: when the * hits the fan one day and poeple find out who he really is, I don't want any part in it.

The main reason that I haven't done it yet, it because it's so damn expensive (where i'm from anyway). I meet all the criteria to have it changed, but I don't meet the criteria for having it done for free. It's a big step, but somehow, the more I think about it, the more relieved I feel. I want to get it done before I have children, so that they will automatically recieve my new name.

Incidentally, my mum's name is also a lot nicer than my dad's, haha.

Anyone recognise this?
And anyone gone through the process?

Hi y'all,

A year or two ago, my parents (who were still together at the time) were organising a party, and they had asked a musician to come an play. My dad said to me: "Maybe you can sing some songs with him." To which I replied: "Maybe, what kind of songs does he play?". And my dad looked at me all confused and said, "You already know, you sang numerous songs with him last time."
At first I didn't believe him, and I was really confused. I had absolutely no recollection of this, until he pulled up the photographs. Even after seeing the photo's, no memories popped up.

Usually when you've forgotten something, you're somewhat aware that there's something you've forgotten. Or the memory can be jogged when someone tells you more about it, or shows you pictures, or whatever.

But recently i've been discovering these 'Gaps' in my memory. People will remind me of something, and I will have no clue whatsoever. Or i'll read through a diary, and have no recollection of the event I've written about, or of writing it in the first place.
I have noticed that quite a few of these things did take place in a time where I was under a lot of stress. For example, that party where I supposedly sang a bunch of songs, took place suring the time that I was admitted to a mental health clinic. But this doesn't go for all of the "memories". Some things are totally random.

It's just a strange and jarring experience, to discover that there are just "holes" in my mind that I never realized were there, and that I can't even seem to bring back the info, even with "help".
It's so weird.

Anyone else experience this?

Would we see light
without darkness
or darkness
without light

consider this
when you sense
no sense
and notice

the dazzling fragments
or starlight
through tears
when night falls.

- AlterEg0

A while ago, I was watching an Oprah episode about sexual abuse, and she said something that really klicked for me.

I've been sexually abused by my next door neighbour multiple times as a child. Yet, i've never really felt that this "traumatized" me, not in the way that people seem to think it should anyway.
Others always expected me be sensitive about the subject, have trouble with intimacy, have nightmares or whatever, the works. But I don't.
And that always made me feel weird, gross, etc. Because what will people think, if I don't react that heavily to something that is obviously awful? Will they think that I wanted it, liked it, that I'm just as bad, that I asked for it,  i'm gross, whatever.

And then I heard Oprah say something along the lines of: "Abuse doesn't always feel like abuse. That's why it's abuse."
She also explained in an interview that I found online:
"I have said for years that if the abuser is any good, you won't know it's happened,"  "If the abuser is any good, he or she is going to make you feel like you're part of it."

Of course, for some people and in some situations, it's really obvious and terrifying. The thing is that many people think, that's always how it goes.

For me personally, it was really validating to hear that i'm not the only one who experienced it this way. I've always had a pretty mellow perception of it. Wrong place, wrong time, young bloke who did something stupid, it wasn't right but it's in the past and I don't really dwell on it or think about it. It doesn't seem to influence my daily life (not in an obvious way at least, not in the percieved as conventional "crying in a fetal position" kind of way).

Same goes for the emotional abuse by my narc father. I didn't even realize that it was abuse, until I was 33. All that time, I thought that I must be crazy. And I didn't feel much, although in retrospect I was just numb.

Anyone else recognise this?

I've been toying with the idea of starting a journal here. It took me a while,  but here I am 

I'm in a weird place. Some kind of 'in between'. Where you're not really 'sick' anymore, or at least, not visibly. But there are still things that need work. And it's hardest when people then see you as a functional adult and expect more from you than you feel you can offer at that time. I feel like the deepest, hardest-to-kick patterns are only coming to the surface now. In part because the superficial stuff has been resolved, and in part because so much * hit the fan over the past two years, that I can't really look away anymore. I don't feel safe enough in my own skin and in my social connections to share everything that i'm dealing with at the moment. So I guess starting a journal here is a good first step.

Short back story for context, for anyone who wants to know *TW*:

I'm a female in my 30's. Throughout my childhood, some hard things happened. An immigration and a re-migration, sexual abuse by a neighbour, a lot of bullying by peers.
In my late teens/early 20's, I was in an unhealthy codependant realtionship and I got married. I divorced about 1,5 years later. Around that time, I also started struggling with my mental health more than ever before. I became depressed, developed an eating disorder, self harmed, and was suicidal. I spent about 10 years in the whole mental health world. In and out of therapy, psych wards, on all kinds of meds, etc. The term CPTSD was never coined, I didn't figure that out until later. In the mean time, I did manage to finish my studies, get a job, and all that other stuff you're supposed to do.

A few years ago, I finally got the right kind of help. I fully recovered and was doing really well. I also retrained, so that I could make a carreer switch. In 2019, I took the dive and quit my job to start my own business, together with my father. Shortly after, I discovered that my father isn't who I thought he was. A whole lot of sh*t went down, and a lifetime of lies and abuse came to light. My father is a communal narcissist. I broke contact with my father, losing my business, my dreams, future plans and not to mention my income in the process. I did manage to find a little part-time job to stay afloat, and I started to rebuild my business. Just when I started to feel like things were getting better, and I had time to process and heal, the pandemic came along.

Currently, i'm in survival mode. I feel like i'm back at square one, although I rationally know that i'm not. I just have a lot of new information now, and a lot to process. Granted, some old wound have re-opened and some things were uncovered that I didn't even know were there. I think that's a good thing, although I don't feel "happy" about it, haha. I'm coping better than I would have a few years ago. I'm doing the best I can, and i'm surviving without harming myself, I know there's a lot of work to do, a lot of healing to be done, etc. I know that's a good thing, yet at the same time I find myself feeling really hopeless and frustrated a lot of the time. And mostly, very very alone.
So that's about it in a nutshell.

*Possible trigger warning*

So last night, my mum called me and told me how things were going. My parents split up a while back (my dad took off with one of his patients, who is also half his age) and they still have to interact due to court/money-stuff regarding my Dad's previous company going bankrupt. Up until now my mum was still living in my childhood home, but it looks like she's going to have to sell the place.
It appears that my dad has been manipulating and emotionally bashing her more than usual over the past two weeks, so she was a bit stressed out. She called to update me, and I'm fine with that. It's very interesting to me, though, how my subconscious responds.
This time, I was clearly processing some stuff in my sleep

I dreamt that I was at school, where I used to work up until last summer, when I quit to start my own company and work with my dad (big mistake). I miss the place tremendously. Anyway, so I dreamt that I was at school, and I was walking to the teachers lounge.
On my way there, my dad suddenly showed up and grabbed me by the throat. He pushed my up against the wall, and tried to strangle me. I was trying to scream, but no sound came out. He looked at me with a look in his face as if to say "haha, try me, there's nothing you can do", and then he slipped his pinky finger in my mouth. So I bit down. Hard. I bit off the tip of his finger. And he didn't respond AT ALL. Like he didn't even notice. So I tried screaming again, and finally, something came out. Some people walking by, looked in my direction. But they kept walking. It was not necessarily a scary dream, it was more of a depressing one, with the feeling of frustration and helplessness. The symbolism is uncanny.

My dad was (almost) never physically abusive, but as a communal narcissist, there was plenty of hidden emotional manipulation going on. I didn't discover all of this until a few months ago, when things got so out of hand that I went no contact. This year has been intense, and it's rather interesting to see how my subconscious processes this stuff. Rather unpleasant though

Hi Everyone,

Just a quick post to introduce myself, as I'm new here.
I don't really know where to begin. I'm struggling with CPTSS, and looking back, I probably have been for a very long time. I just never got diagnosed as such (although I got many, many other labels along the way). This is a result of various things, obviously. Repeated sexual abuse as a child, relentless bullying by peers, and what I recently discovered: my father is a (communal) narcissist.

I went through the whole psychiatric circuit over a period of about ten years, and was treated for all kinds of things. From depression and anxiety to self harm, eating disorders and personality disorders. I was admitted to psychiatric units and clinics on numerous occasions, and didn't want to live anymore. I didn't get very far, until a few years ago I started working with someone who did know what she was doing. I recovered and was doing really well. However, over the past year, numerous big things have happened that turned my life completely upside down, and put the past in a whole new perspective. Long story. But it has caused a lot of old triggers to resurface, and lately I've been feeling really down and isolated, not knowing who to talk to about all this stuff. For the most part because even I don't know how to explain what's going on.

So I figured it would be good to find a place like this where I can vent and figure some stuff out, and where there's understanding even when I don't quite understand it all myself.

That's it in a nutshell