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#21
 A couple days back, I was telling  someone of my excited reaction to an inspiring talk given by a person who'd survived some very deep abuse. The person I was sharing this with (one of only 2 who have much knowledge  of my painful past) reacted by slipping into her standard monologue of "well, people back then were different" ... STOP, I WANT TO SCREAM.  :aaauuugh:


I had just been describing how the speaker I'd heard had very expertly explained how abuse victims hear things differently and -- immediately I get one of those standard "you have to understand them" responses tossed back at me. The sort of line that makes me cringe, shrink from saying anything more about my feelings, and resign myself to hiding my honest feelings yet again. And ... so much for the inspiring talk I'd wanted to share my excitement about with her.

NOOOOO. I will not understand, there's no point to trying; 'they' hurt me, no more need be said. I felt betrayed, unloved, scorned, and more. Still, I DID survive and have been on a long journey ever since. Survival doesn't mean I turn back and throw understanding into what I can't ever, ever understand. Why would I want to? I can only unburden as best I can, on my own terms.


Understand it? Why? It was senseless then; and remains so. But I'm still left with huge chunks of my life shattered. I feel the sting when certain comments get made certain ways that invalidates me. I'm still okay, more than okay; but enduring comments implying I just need to understand better is a form of verbal abuse (even if unintentional) implying I must not be good enough. At least that's how I heard it, and yes, I'm very sensitive. Will someone please understand that? I have to wonder. 

I am okay, and it's all I can be. Okayness is a lot, considering how I could just give up on sharing any part of my vulnerable undercurrent. While the abuse doesn't define my life, its aftermath has left a long trail of symptoms that continue to influence me.  Perhaps I just need to steel myself for unfortunate comments from people who, in the end, weren't there and don't understand (or want to) what it's like to be victimized to the point of raw senselessness.

It's still lonely, though. Very. But circling back to the talk mentioned above, the speaker eloquently spoke of survival as all that mattered, and how the slings of others can never, ever destroy that accomplishment. So what if they don't get it ... we do.
#22
I guess this could also fit in resources/articles section but I chose to place it here as I consider its topic very relevant to recovery, not just as a helpful resource.

---

I've always been bothered by the word forgiveness and its associations. While I understand it's not meant to fully condone or accept an abuser's actions, it still felt like an imposed sort of default to let perpetrators off the hook, while the victims are still left with confusion, heartbreak, and continued feelings of unworthiness.

Well, I recently stumbled into an alternative word I find easier to handle; one that doesn't have so many negatives that the force-fed term forgiveness can trigger in me. The substitute word -- unburdening -- is nicely explained in the following article:

https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/why-i-dont-use-the-word-forgiveness-in-trauma-therapy-0120164

If you're also bothered by the harm that the term forgiveness can generate, you might find it of interest. If you do look it up, be sure to check out the comment section at the bottom of the page. Some of the responses may well resonate with your own feelings.  :bigwink:

#23
I found this article in the October 19 issue of "Spirituality Health" magazine. It speaks volumes about our accepting the depth of our abuse, which is of course so denied by others or even invalidated, etc.

I chose to cut/paste the article so as to avoid the numerous (and annoying) sidebars and popups typical of online magazines these days. If you want to see the original (which is no different than the cut/paste presented here) you can find it at

https://spiritualityhealth.com/blogs/worthy-a-self-esteem-blog/2018/10/19/what-if-the-survivor-you-need-to-believe-is-you

Either way, hope you find it useful and illuminating.

------

WHAT IF THE SURVIVOR YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IS ... YOU?

by Anneli Rufus – October 19, 2018 Spirituality Health Magazine

Disbelieving ourselves only sustains our suffering.

Electrifying the national news and social media lately has been the topic of trauma — and those who undergo it, survive it, remember it, reveal it, exist with its aftereffects and/or are believed.

The trouble with trauma in this pics-or-it-didn't-happen, everything's-recorded era is the paucity of "proof." Potentially traumatic incidents tend to happen in secret, mainly because traumatizers want no witnesses.

Sure, some traumas are public: Earthquakes. Wars. Smaller in scale but still entailing audiences: being verbally abused by coaches or teachers in packed classrooms or locker rooms. Such experiences can be searing. But finding supporters — and believers — after suffering more or less public pain is relatively easy.

Most trauma occurs behind closed doors. One-on-one, enforcing a steep power inequity in which victims feel helpless, hopeless, worthless — hating themselves for "letting this happen to me," which is just what traumatizers want.

This dynamic applies not only to sexual trauma but also to other kinds — as we who were humiliated, cussed at, spanked or worse for mildly misbehaving, talking back, or not cleaning our rooms well know.

In such cases, maybe our traumatizers thought they had the best intentions, believed they were teaching us important lessons, hurting us only for our "own good" — just as certain demented rapists actually think that no means yes.

Trauma cannot be measured with sophisticated instruments, detected with some high-tech dye, or retro-filmed for all to see via some as-yet-uninvented time-traveling camera that records past events, even in the dark.

Whether our traumas happened in bedrooms or barns or big-box stores, they scarred us. While writing a book about low self-esteem, I came to see the close connection between it and trauma, especially childhood trauma that occurred before its victims had solid senses of self.

Being systematically terrified by those with power over us, particularly those we loved and trusted, made us believe that whatever happened to us was our fault, that we had asked for it, that we were bad. This belief crystallized in our still-growing hearts and minds.

That's why, years later, rather than say that we were traumatized, rather than say we have survived, we tend to instead blame ourselves for "faults" and "flaws" that are aftereffects of trauma — which we refuse to call trauma, because it happened to us.

Whether or not to believe others who say they were traumatized is now political. But to believe ourselves? We are our own snarkiest skeptics, harshest critics and deadliest enemies. Some of us would more likely believe bank robbers who proclaimed I'm innocent! while wearing masks and clasping sacks of cash in hands stained red by dye-packs before we believed ourselves proclaiming almost anything.

This is especially true if we haven't yet traced our self-hatred to its source: if we haven't yet realized how much of our adult lives is shaped by long-ago terrors we believed we might not survive.

Self-hatred trumps self-compassion, so we deny, dismiss and minimize our trauma by saying:

• Other people have experienced worse things. Of course they have. But life is not a competition in which human sufferings are ranked in order of validity. If you hurt, you hurt — whether because of a harsh word or a hurricane.

• I asked for it. We tell ourselves: I ignored warnings. Disobeyed. I was, thus am, nasty or dumb or whatever they said I was. This is how traumatizers want victims to think. We never asked to suffer. Pain was inflicted on us.

• I should be over it by now. We tell ourselves that still being tormented by long-ago traumas proves that we are weak. No: We're survivors. But the same years others spent learning to be strong we spent learning to be scared.

• Who would believe me, anyway? It was so long ago. Many would say they knew and loved my parents/priest/coach/classmate/ex. How dare I accuse those fine souls of harming me? Maybe our traumatizers meant well. Maybe not. But we know who did and said what to whom.

And we must start believing our own memories.

To disbelieve ourselves, to call our trauma anything but trauma, keeps unsolved the mystery of why we often feel fake, frozen, incomplete.

Disbelieving ourselves only sustains our suffering.

Every time we debate our inner critics over whether we were traumatized, then decide no despite glaring evidence otherwise, retraumatizes us. Even if no one else would believe us, we must.

Anneli Rufus' latest work, Unworthy: How to Stop Hating Yourself, was released by Tarcher Penguin in May 2014 and continues this path, addressing self-esteem.


#24
Letters of Recovery / Letter to my Anger ...
November 05, 2018, 07:19:32 PM
This reflection on personal/internalized anger, is inspired by reading about alternative approaches to journeying with the difficulties posed by cptsd/recovery. For instance, Pete Walker's suggestion that anger is not only okay, but can factor into the recovery process. So this is my take on that, I guess. One author (Matt Licata) suggested, odd as it seems, talking to those sore points in our lives that might turn out to be our round-about friends, not the enemies we always thought they were.

*Please note, this letter concerns internalized cptsd-derived anger only; and not the general anger that modern society seems to have plunged into, by itself maddening, sickening, and inexcusable.
---------------------------------------------------------

A Letter ...

Hi Anger, while it feels strange to say this, sometimes I'm finding the best way to deal with my leftover pain is to travel outside the box of 'regular' thinking. This is one of those times.

Usually uninvited, you've shown up; and helped me get past the deepest sorrows, allowing my natural emotional overflow to help with healing my hurts. So while it still sounds strange, I can at least acknowledge that, despite my discomfort about your presence, Anger, in the end you've actually been part of the balm I needed, too. Life can be strange that way, eh?

With you, Anger, I can choose to feel the hurt while not absorbing it so deeply. Without you, I wonder even more how I would have been able to endure so much, even in memory, for so long. I guess that's a rather tepid thank you. But I'd rather thank you than tolerate those you were protecting me from. You've allowed me to be me, even in the midst of so much pain and confusion. Maybe, by just accepting your presence, and yes--even by venting (internally), I'll no longer feel so torn up about the deep wounding of past experiences and their residual effects today.

Perhaps the best take on our relationship is this little story: A sage was asked, "What is Anger?" His simple, wise answer was: "Anger is punishment that we give ourselves, for someone else's mistake."

So it's okay, Anger. It's quite natural for my angry feelings to have arisen considering what happened to me. I've done it often, undoubtedly it'll happen again; albeit most of my anger occurs internally, it can still build like a raging inferno filled with inexplicable pain and self-blame for things I had no control over. When in fact that shame should fall entirely on those abusers who used me as their personal puppet/rag doll/punching bag.

So you're still around, Anger. But I can change my relationship to you. As you never were my enemy, but your presence provided a means by which I could somehow respond to the challenge of living through all the years of senseless abuse.

Told you this might seem strange. It is, in the normal round of things; but I've learned it helps to consider even the most unlikely thoughts in seeking to get past some enormous roadblocks.

[signed] Your acquaintance, Woodsgnome.
#25
General Discussion / Motivation to keep going?
October 15, 2018, 02:04:11 AM
This post resulted from another up/mostly down reaction to events of the last couple days that ended in serious flashback boomerangs and some pretty deep hurt in my life. The wonder is that I still wonder about this; then again sometimes feel like I'm only grasping at straws until it all hits again. I try and know I've progressed a tiny bit, but just as often retreat into my suit of armour that protects my fragile self from feeling so vulnerable, tired, and helpless.

What really motivates you to keep seeking answers? Or just a better way? Or whatever it is that's driven us to sharing on this forum. While our common outlook seems to derive from loss and grief, what's our true hope for the next part of our journey? Is it worth the pain? I'm not pain-avoidant, mind you, just...well, curious (hmm, there's one sign of life anyway!); but still in one of 'those moods'. I value any and all feedback about this. I know it gets discussed here off and on but I felt like getting some opinions from people I know I can trust. Thanks!
#26
Letters of Recovery / Letter to My Sadness...
September 11, 2018, 02:55:05 AM
Dear Sadness,

Hey, there. It's okay, you might as well come out of the shadows. I know, it must be a surprise, my talking to you after all these years of our difficult times together. Look around--it's just you and me. One might think we were the best of friends. We know each other so well; might as well let our guard down this once and share some tea, or just a little chat. After all, we're more like friends than just passing acquaintances.

Describing our relationship as one of friendship might seem a stretch on the surface. See, I have no friends at all, and yet you always seem to show up for me. Many people would like to chase you away, treat you as some enemy, and never ever accept you as more than an unwanted stranger. I'll admit to having done that, too--we're programmed to avoid dark sinister types like you. Except I've changed my mind on that. You may have a dark aspect I guess, and I have seen you lurking around a lot, and yes you do head for the hills  when anger and frustration explodes out of me. Even I would like to get away from me when all * breaks loose and I rant into the night.

It's okay, though. I don't think you're ever going to leave at this point. While I'm not entirely cozy with why you show up, I can at least be comfortable with your otherwise steadying presence. Lord knows, I've had no other friends willing to sit with me when all seems lost. Of all the 'villains' who pop into my being, I can no longer honestly identify you as an enemy. In fact, I think I need your unique and total sincerity.

You truly stand apart. And...gulp...I'd be lost without you. You don't mean any harm, and you have a quiet way of respecting and sharing for those times I lose my way. You won't harm me, just remind me of how truly awful things were and how it never was my fault--any of it.  I value the rare  friend you are--nonjudgemental, honest, and loyal. Consistent, without complaint. I sought to ignore you, but still you allow me to grieve, save me from denial, and never yell; sometimes you just cry with me, staying with my shaking body. 

Your presence allows me the freedom to release the searing pain, and pick up the pieces from which I can once again try to build towards the peace of mind I crave. So many told me in numerous ways that I was worthless--but not you; you are just here, and won't shun or hurt me; nor will you slyly disguise your real intentions--you're just here. That's what friends do. I never really wanted to chase you off, I know you understand that.

So, Sadness, I thank you for being here. I can no longer honestly hate and wish you ill. Somehow you found me, and that's more than can be said for so many. Thanks again, Friend.

[signed] ~ Your buddy, Woodsgnome ~
#27
About a year ago, I stumbled across a podcast that, while not specific to cptsd issues, deals with a broad spectrum of people experiencing various sorts of pain and trauma in their lives. It's not always as grim as it seems, either. The topics of grief, death, loss, and abuse sometimes can be so bad as to lead to the absurd opposite--humour, laughter, acceptance of how badly we can fall. This description from the site says it well:

"You know how every day someone asks "how are you?" And even if you're totally dying inside, you just say "fine," so everyone can go about their day? This show is the opposite of that. Hosted by author (It's Okay to Laugh (Crying Is Cool Too)) and notable widow (her words) Nora McInerny, this is a funny/sad/uncomfortable podcast about talking honestly about our pain, our awkwardness, and our humanness, which is not an actual word."

The connection is:

https://www.apmpodcasts.org/ttfa/



#28
Okay, I was getting kind of used to the parade of miserable clergy abuse stories that crop up regularly. Did I say I was getting used to? I'm a bit shaky to even fathom how to describe my present mood, but it's not good--flashbacks, loads of tears, lots of anger, and utter loneliness. I'm usually reasonably okay now, but the recent news out of Pennsylvania in the States opened the floodgates yet again. I never know when this will set me low, but this has, yet again.

While I had major abuse going on at home, combined with 13 'religious' school years I'm still in that constant flux of trying to tread lightly lest the memories do me in. I've gotten to the point where I can feel somewhat confident at having learned how to live in this yucky survivor mode (we're talking a 40-year time span!). And then...I never know how these new reports will upend all that work. Sometimes I just avoid them but not always.This has been one of those days where I'm on the edge again. The triggers run close to the surface; and today they popped.

There's a bit of irony in that I've kind of recovered a spiritual identity I can accept. But nothing can prepare for how these reports can reignite the emotional/physical queasiness to points where trauma doesn't come close to describing what it's really like.

Can't really go on, not much to say; just hope folks didn't mind my trying to unload a little of the pain this way.   

#29
General Discussion / Feeling Vs. Numbness
June 27, 2018, 05:03:06 PM
Triggere warnings? I guess the end of paragraph #1 might warrant that.

As if these things could or should be ranked, in general my therapy session yesterday was going well, touching on what seemed to be helpful strides in my psyche. And then I blew it up just by touching on the sorest, saddest, worst episodes of my life--the one constant of my youth, the 9 years of molestations from the m (albeit she was hardly the only one) combined with her as-fierce emotional neglect.

So with about 10 minutes to go I brought it up; hardly for the first time, of course, but with an intensity of...gulp...feelings. For the couple of years so far with this therapist, she's always nudged me towards feeling more; at the start I admitted to not feeling much of anything, just a sort of steady-state numbness.

So, okay--I let go with my feelings, and anger was revealed as deep-seated bitterness built around loads of grief. Understandable, but as I dived in it just felt worse than I could have imagined. Somehow I straggled out of there...to the next bit of *.

Per the day's wonders, arrived home, decided the garbage needed dealing with, and then a full bag of refuse busted open, spilling over my leg onto the porch floor, and my seething bitterness took its revenge on my already crippled body (intense constant arthritic pain to the point of immobility).

Poor me? Not the point. I'm just wondering if it's so great to even have feelings, why not go numb? At least it's consistent. The ups/downs of accessing my feelings isn't doing so well. Or maybe I'm just ranting. Then I can't sleep and flip on the radio; and I need to go numb again just hearing that blabber known as 'the news'. What's left? Once again I'm loving the safety of numbing out; at least it gives my life consistency.
#30
Frustrated? Set Backs? / Words vs. Reality
June 13, 2018, 03:07:07 PM
While I seem to shift between thinking I'm on the edge of recovery while simultaneously stuck in the mud of my history, it seems the latter always has the final say. This I resolve to accept, as I know I could never change what's happened that's branded my core being as ensnared in this condition known as cptsd. 

Which is fine--I know lots; tons really. Which is also not fine--it's like being chained to a category/word, which unfortunately sums up so much of what I surmise is 'me'. I know that I'm well past the first descent into abuse. I use words to try convincing myself I'm past all of it; and it doesn't feel like I'm truly out of a deep woods with no trail out. This all starts in my core memory and runs through incident after incident after injury to considering my being as kind of a blurring ache that will never go away.

The conundrum is simple. I seem to do well with descriptions and words, which sometimes make me feel good. Certain aspects of where I fell off the edge of hope are okay as to the what, though why any of it happened eludes (in some instances I desperately don't want to know). Is this okay? It better be, but telling myself that doesn't prevent the ledge of sanity from eroding and I easily fall back into a despair deeper than last time.

I guess it ends up back at wondering if the words themselves, which are fine as they describe the problem, will ever be gotten past. One of the words, for instance, is acceptance. Aha--I pounced on this idea once I heard about it and logically figured that it was all I could really do (acceptance in the form of 'what could I have done'; not at all the same as resignation or tacit approval to any of what happened).

But I feel left with only another impossible ideal that seems to hang in the distant sky, luring me to think that yes, I can accept being caught in a vise called the past, but it's different now. And...it's not; it's just those bunch of words recycled into a mirage of recovery that isn't real.  :Idunno:  :whistling:

I'm desperate, feeling so stuck. I'm thinking others can relate, but has anyone ever felt like they've turned a corner on this? That recovery isn't just a long process with no resolution other than it's impossible to reach? Or is acceptance as far as I'll ever make it? Is this what's called surrender? Is it really a good thing--or yet another word describing the sense of being stuck?












#31
***can be triggering...dark brooding***

One of the songs I used to enjoy was Joni Mitchell's The Circle Game. I'm not recalling all the verses at the moment, just the theme--up and down, captured on a carousel of time, but mostly I recall the soulful melody (I'm definitely more of a tune person...lyrics tend to escape me--memorizing words always triggers memories of being beaten and worse for mashing up bible verses we were supposed to learn).

Like many, I've gone through lots of cycles and circles in the hunt for something good from any of this repetitive game. I go through periods where I'm sure I've accepted the circle game and I'm really okay with life again. And...again...I crash and burn, and yet the game continues (it doesn't need me anyway). Endlessly and predictively, the only memories that stick are those of utter shame and surrender--except it's not that positive sort of surrender I keep hearing exists; mine comes wrapped in layers of agonizing grief.

It seemed so bold to find that new direction, do it on my own besides, and never look back. So goes the myth. Mind you, myths can actually be true, not in a factual but in a moral sense. I get that. I also accept it--and then accept that no, I really don't fully accept it, at all. Acceptance is just the latest mantra in the search for peace with senselessness. Round comes the next round of acceptance and...since I have no one else to reject me, I step in and become my own surrogate worst enemy. It would be odd were it otherwise, I suppose; if only it weren't just so puking regular. The Circle Game--can I just get off now?

I used to joke with my T about trying my best to not look nice, as when I was molested as a kid that phrase "my, but you're so cute" would be in the mix of taunts that I couldn't defend against. Now I've succeeded big time--lots of extra pounds to drag around, erasing any danger of mistaken cuteness.

Where am I going with this? The usual nowhere, but perhaps I'm testing to see if it really does feel that good to get it out. Yeah...it does. I just hope I haven't burdened anyone else with this. It's pointless, but in doing so it only acts as a mirror for a very sad person describing his own version of *. Sadly, I can hear the chorus rising: ..."just get over it."

Thanks for listening, and propping up the mirror. Do I laugh or cry? I'm good at both.

Turning back to old songs, there was another ballad sung by Peter, Paul, and Mary...a bouncy tune which spoke of Puff the Magic Dragon and how sad Puff was when his playmates no longer came, as they had apparently grown out of their childhood ways. Maybe I'm Puff--still waiting for someone to come in the first place. Not sad because they've left, only that they never made it to Puff's neighbourhood. To play. And frolic, and be normal.

Now do I actually post this dark messy tangle of self-pity? I've pouted like this before and held off sharing it--but isn't it supposed to be healing--whatever that is--to reach beyond one's comfort zone? Okay--there's the 'post' button, give in to my bad vibes and cross that comfort line...maybe it's all Puff is good for anyway.
#32
I recently ran across a wide-ranging but provocative and insgithful podcast discussion on "spiritual abuse" at the following link:

http://www.theliturgists.com/podcast/2017/5/16/spiritual-trauma

Parts of this can be triggering, and there is a warning upfront for this. But I think it's worth trying to get through those parts as they often surround some highly relevant portions of the discussion.

Okay--it's 2 hours long, but unlike lots of discussions, this one has good flow and was packed with info that would be difficult to condense into soundbites. And it turns out it includes good general info about trauma, not just in the 'spiritual' sense. As a trauma therapist explains, "all trauma can have a spiritual component as they affect our overall outlook on life."
#33
Religious/Cult Abuse / "Spiritual" Abuse, an article
January 15, 2018, 07:45:46 PM
My recovery/path to wholeness path began in a heavy layer of abuses perpetrated by self-proclaimed spiritual people. As I later learned and as is reiterated in the following article, they really were more fake "spiritual" people; not at all resembling anything higher or sacred than their own twisted minds. It took me years to undo this, a work still in progress.

Meanwhile, as author Jeff Foster points out below, a new legion of pretend spiritual people has risen who claim the spiritual tag as well. And, like those before, they're doing more damage than the good they think they're about. Anyway, I thought to share it here, as there are probably others who've been treated this way during their own journey. It's truly awful for these new "spiritual" saviours to be playing the same game. Even if the new crowd of spiritual fakers adopts great names like non-dualists and the like, if they still treat those listening to them with the same old guilt-trips, well...enough said...here's the article:

ON ABUSE AND "SPIRITUALITY"

"You attracted it because you desired it".
"If you think there's a problem with another's words or actions,
YOU are the one who's confused".
"Everything is just your projection. Everything is in your mind".
"Clear up your vibration and you'll stop attracting bad things to yourself".
"You are too attached to the body. Go beyond the body. It's not who you are."
"If you have doubts, fears, resistance, pain, anger, then you must be in your ego and totally unenlightened".
"The past is an illusion. Let it go right now!".

Ugh. I'm so tired of all this New Age spiritual b*@(*%^s. I'm tired of ANY spirituality that doesn't fully honour our messy, unresolvable, first-hand, real-time, embodied human experience. That doesn't bow deeply to the struggle of our raw and tender hearts. That guilt-trips us for our imperfections and shames our limitations.

No, it's not always your projection.
Yes, sometimes other people really ARE abusive.
No, everything isn't always "in your mind".
Yes, your body matters. Your feelings too.
No, your doubts and fears are not 'wrong' or 'bad' or 'unevolved'.
No, you do not 'attract' abuse through a faulty 'vibrational frequency'.
No, you do not deserve to be violated in any way, in the name of Truth, in the name of God, in the name of Love, or IN ANY OTHER NAME.
Yes, your boundaries deserve to be respected, your 'yes' AND your 'no' too.
No, it's not okay for spiritual teachers to abuse people "for their own good"
- to shock them into awakening, to enlighten them, to help them drop their "ego".
Teachers that use abuse as a tool are simply abusers, not teachers.

I reject any spirituality that dismisses our tender, vulnerable, fragile humanity.
I reject any spirituality that shames us for our precious human thoughts and feelings.
I reject any spirituality that begins any sentence with "If you were enlightened..."
I reject any spirituality that divides self from no self, divine from human, sacred from profane, absolute from relative, heaven from earth, duality from nonduality, material from spiritual.

I once saw a popular spiritual teacher addressing a recently bereaved woman.
He said, "Your heartbreak is illusory and only the activity of the separate self.
One day the separate self will vanish, along with all suffering".
And in that moment, I saw a deep, deep sickness and inhumanity at the heart of contemporary spirituality. The invalidation of trauma, the false promises, the power games, the suppression of the feminine.

And I vowed to bow to that damn broken heart as if it were God Herself.
Until the end of time.
#34
I was recently touched on hearing of a distant acquaintance who'd  died. Actually, she chose not to continue treatments for brain tumors which she'd been battling for 10 years. At age 20, she'd had more experience than most, and her loss was heart-breaking to those who'd seen her battle against all odds to find her way.

The tumors were so aggressive that recovery was uncertain, but regardless she bounced back each time. Meaning, though, that she had to literally re-learn everything--from speech, to movement and really most of anything that everyone else takes for granted. Along the way, though, she developed a passion for art and created beautiful works even when undergoing massive treatments.

She got to a college she dearly wanted to attend, but by then more tumors interfered, and her difficulties re-ignited. Speech became difficult, major depression flared, and though she became a model for others suffering similarly, she soon was worn out.

This all made me think--of the similarities to other forms of mental recovery work, including the brain illness/injury we know as cptsd. One aspect that hit home was the re-learning part. While her mental and sensorimotor acuity was diminished due to natural circumstances, and not induced as in cptsd, it gives pause to realize what's truly involved in our various attempts at recovery (or wholeness, as I inwardly prefer to call it).

Re-learning. In her case, that involved literally everything. That may not be true for all recovering from cptsd, but there are huge chunks of life where that's what it takes to make any progress. There's no grand lesson in all this, but her death has hopefully made me feel less complacent and driftless. I take it for granted that I'm no good, defective, done in by stuff left over from my old story. One that requires lots of un-learning.

Coming out of that tunnel, I'm still learning, and much of it is brand new. Lots of how-to material, from loosening my deep people fears, to being able to function around others for any length of time and still feel okay; while also yearning to break away from so much dissociation/numbness in my life. While this reflection comes by way of grief, it points another way to not always move entirely past the hard parts, but to incorporate them into healing, if possible.

Maybe it's not a coincidence that I ran into this quote yesterday: We don't have to change what we see. Only the way we see it." At first, I wondered--huh; how would I view abuse/trauma any differently? But I guess maybe 'the way' to see is key; maybe I can choose to see the old junk only in the rear-view mirror, and not let it in as a passenger. 
#35
My therapist recently was at a conference where the host of the podcast "The Hilarious World of Depression" gave a presentation. The other day the topic of dark humour came up in our session, as it often does; and she gave me the link to his podcast:

https://www.apmpodcasts.org/thwod/

I haven't had a chance to listen to many episodes yet, but those that I've scanned are interesting takes on how depression (and by extension cptsd) symptoms can be handled once one can get into a lighter re-framing state of mind about it. The onsite description:

"The Hilarious World of Depression is a series of frank, moving, and, yes, funny conversations with top comedians who have dealt with this disease, hosted by veteran humorist and public radio host John Moe. Join guests such as Maria Bamford, Paul F. Tompkins, Andy Richter, and Jen Kirkman to learn how they've dealt with depression and managed to laugh along the way."

This also ties in with another recent thread posted here: http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=8065.msg55999#msg55999
#36
General Discussion / Mirrors
November 14, 2017, 04:16:51 PM
Wondering if anyone else experiences mirror phobia? Using them sparingly and/or mostly just avoiding them whenever possible?

At home, to this day (decades after) I only have a tiny, cracked and dirty mirror that resides mostly on the kitchen floor out of sight, mostly out of mind. I only glance at a mirror if I'm away someplace else for a quick comb or something, but otherwise don't use them much; and it's so habitual I don't even think about it. I usually cut or trim my own hair without using one, feeling my way instead of looking.

I offhandedly mentioned this to my T last week, and she indicated that's not untypical behaviour for someone recovering from a history of certain traumas. At least I think that's what she said as I faded into a brief dissociation while she was pointing that out.

***trigger warning next paragraph***
Something else I recalled, too--I tried disfigurement at least a couple of times. This stems from incidents with teachers at the religious school I went to who got me alone in a bathroom and used words like "you're just so cute and cuddly" while... There were times with the m, too, that were similar but she didn't even always use words, just...
***end of trigger***   

I recall one day lightly scarring my face using throwing darts which I used to scratch lines across my face and when asked told people it was from a cat incident. I did that at least a couple of times, and freaked out if a word like "cute" made it into even a casual conversation with someone. And I also know that ever since is when my mirror avoidance grew. Even when I was an improv actor for several years I kept mirror usage to an absolute minimum.

So I'm just wondering if mirrors are problematic that way, consciously or unconsciously, for anyone else.
#37
I recently ran across an excellent read that's helped me to lift the fog surrounding the pain still reverberating in my darkest places. Teresa Pasquale's "Sacred Wounds: A Path to Healing from Spiritual Trauma" has helped me in picking up the pieces and moving on from those intensely traumatic times.

As someone whose cptsd experience emanated from circumstances within and around the FOO's involvement with a church and its 2 schools, this book resonates big-time with me. Pasquale knows the territory well, and while much of the cptsd background is well-known to readers of this site and forum, she lays out the basics, using examples from her own life as well as years of service as a counselor and therapist specializing in spiritual abuses. One note--she sticks to using the more-familiar ptsd tag (without the c) which I suppose saved her a bit of explanation. But it's obvious she's covering more of the cptsd landscape as a whole.

Overall, hers is a well-rounded, very readable study into the territory behind the curtain of so-called spirituality gone awry, or even berserk. As with other reads that touch so many of my personal sore points, I had to pause frequently to relieve the inner turmoil certain topics brought up; to absorb it  without 'losing it'.

Pasquale weaves her personal story with those of many others in diving beneath the ugly reality of spiritual abuses. Even if some of the abuse originated as benign hurt by those feeling they were only serving a good cause, I'm sorry; there's never any excuse for how they twist and turn their stated 'godly' good intentions and use it to hurt others, often children placed in their care.

Pasquale's book isn't a rant against religion per se; rather it's a thorough investigation of how something that seems harmless on the surface can end up destroying lives rather than saving them. For those of us suffering from having endured abuse in the name of religion/spirituality, this is a hugely relevant, useful, and sensitive treatment as we find our way out of the carnage left by spiritual abuses.
#38
I know there's some here who've read his books and others who might want to know more about him...so here's a recent interview with him:

https://onbeing.org/programs/bessel-van-der-kolk-how-trauma-lodges-in-the-body/
#39
A while back I felt a desire to stretch my comfort zone. But how...where...all the usual roadblocks seemed as solid as ever. Took some work, but I was able to figure something. So I'm leaving my forest hermitage-like safe haven for a big city 'retreat', as that's the locale for a small (approx. 7-10 people) 5-day intensive/interactive gathering. Five days away? No big deal for many. But it's literally the first overnight travel I've done in 12+ years. It's like a kid going on a  first campout (an odd twist considering that one of my earliest jobs was as a wilderness camping guide LOL; and here I am--'inward bound').

I expect...no thing, but hoping for lots of be-ing...with people, in a safe space, where we can--again, who knows? Expectations only clog the open channels. As the line below this post says: "We make our descent into darkness..."; this is only step one on an undefined journey of just being. My motivation was this line of Henry David Thoreau's I've always liked: "I did not want to live what was not life." I'm a tad scared of all this, but as Joseph Campbell would say if he were here: "Where you stumble and fall, there you will find gold." Still scared, but more okay with that, it's not causing me to back away as my 'normal' perfectionist 'have to control' ego would want me to do.

Lots of the willingness to venture out has been inspired from what I've learned about life on this forum. I've come to understand the possibility of finding real hope, that there is care and compassion in the world, even if it's often elusive. On this forum I've found and admired people who--in spite of their rough ride--have reached out to share and seek help for the scars that only those who've 'been there' quite understand.

The moorings cut, the ship is setting out...
#40
Frustrated? Set Backs? / My Ugly Truth...
April 08, 2017, 06:09:52 PM
The ugly truth is...I can't forgive myself. For things I don't even know was my fault in any way, shape, or form. I had some horrible things done to me, and yet I fell into blaming myself for so many of them--the 'if only...if only I'd done this, that, or the other' response took over. Fine, that only exacerbated the whole mess. Then I spent so much time trying to understand the abusers,but I'd already absorbed so much shame from them that I turned it on myself.

I'd like to say that's over with, as I've tied myself in pretzels trying to turn this around. What an awful loop to be trapped in. I've tried re-framing what's even meant by forgiveness, but it never seems to alleviate this trait of self-blame. If someone looks at me (this can be from a huge distance), I assume 1)something's wrong; and 2)it's my fault. Including if the person is smiling! I just don't know what trust is; never had it, how would I know? I've tried to 'just trust' and felt burned as often as it panned out. Then I blame myself for not knowing what I couldn't have been expected to know.  :stars:

It's along the lines of what traps we weave for ourselves. The expectation of something going wrong is pandemic with me. That's often the first thing that comes to mind; the next is that I'll mess up, do something that will tip the scale, then berate myself for a lengthy period. Sometimes it dawns on me, this self-blame where none is deserved; then it actually helps if I can laugh at myself. Sounds cruel, but laughing is only one step from crying; gallows humour, I suppose.  None of which helps, but it does comfort...a bit...'til next time...next guilt trip. Usually over nothing. I must be sickly attached to them; what a sorry mess is all I feel, over and over. If time heals, my clock remains stuck.

I don't even need the presence of another person for this--it's like I walk around permanently enclosed in a self-blame bubble. No person around? Maybe I'm lonely. If I am, surely it's my fault. It all builds and never goes away. 

It's the ugly truth, this self-blame leading to self-hate. Here's the worst part of the ugly truth--it may indeed be ugly but IT'S NOT THE REAL TRUTH! I know that, am getting better at recognizing it, and yet catch myself making 1,001 excuses for why the abusers did what they did right up to people who I feel wronged by today. It's horribly odd how I reach for some way to tolerate them, but I have zero tolerance for me.

Whatever will help, seems to last such a short time, then the loop closes once more. What a sickening prospect; a shame/blame game where I end up needing to forgive myself when I've done nothing worthy of such self-spite. As tiring as the blame trip are all the words, mantras, affirmations, etc.; the whole bit trying to dig out of the avalanche.

Blame--there, that's what I want to cut from my list of overdone words. Even blaming the abusers calls them to mind, when all I want is to cut all ties to them, memories included. Or when a memory pops in, to brush it aside as a useless time's done phenomenon instead of something that bids to destroy me now. Walking away from the blame game might even have a double benefit--no forgiveness word to get in the way, just put back in the box of pain, and left there. Then...bury the box; better yet--burn it.

I just want to be free. It's all that motivates me anymore. One caveat left--instead of thinking of freedom as a something-to-come future prospect, I'm sensing that I have a quicker fix--inside me. No blame there, just a willingness to allow self-blame to become self-love via self-compassion. Reminds me of the time my therapist stopped me and remarked: "you've said something good about yourself--congratulations!"