Recent posts
#21
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - February 25, 2026, 06:22:17 PM The missing time from Feb 1974 to Apr 1975 was a nonstop horror show of imprisonment, abandonment, neglect, and physical abuse at the hands of two horrible maternal "caregivers" (mom and Miss Pat). with (so far) at least one additional stay in McIntyre Shelter.
I feel sick to my stomach reading what's in this file.
I feel sick to my stomach reading what's in this file.
#22
AV - Avoidance / Re: Dissociation, depression a...
Last post by erik5 - February 25, 2026, 05:31:31 PMQuote from: NarcKiddo on February 24, 2026, 06:04:41 PMI'm sorry you're struggling with exhaustion.
For myself art or exercise can often help - but with exercise it is a very fine judgement as to whether I need physical rest or should start moving a little to see if I can push myself out of it. Given you describe how you are feeling as "really bad exhaustion" it does not sound to me as if exercise is likely to help. That said, some sort of movement is important and if you can get out into the fresh air for a short walk that is probably worth trying to do.
The main thing I get from your post is your statement that it is hard to do anything productive. That sounds as if you are being a bit hard on yourself. Perhaps you are thinking that you "should" do something productive. But looking after yourself is of itself productive and the goal is a very important one. So my main suggestion is to take as much pressure off yourself as possible. Use as much time as you can to take care of you, whatever that looks like.
Wishing you well.
Thanks for the reply. I try to eat healthy and take a walk every day. I hasn't helped yet though.
Quote from: Kizzie on February 24, 2026, 06:05:33 PMHi Erik - Sorry to hear you are feeling so numb and exhausted right now, CPTSD and recovery can take so much out of us. Are you in therapy at the moment? If so, you might want to speak to you therapist about how you're feeling.
If not, I found what helped me (and please know we're all different so these may not be right for you), was to take what I like to call "trauma breaks." I would put down the books about trauma, read and post less here, take naps, try and do some fun things which could include just binge watching a good TV show if that's all you're up for, take short walks in the fresh air, or go for a ride in the car.
I hope this is helpful!
Thanks for your reply. I'm not in therapy. I don't think I ever feel anything is fun. I'm either numb or in a lot of anxiety or anger. It feels like I've wasted so much of my life dissociating with the internet and being addicted to alcohol, so now when I'm sober I want to work on my healing to finally get better and not waste any more time.
#23
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - February 25, 2026, 05:26:51 PM My memories prior to 1974 are corroborated, and my memories after are dissociated.
But everything after the motel actually happened a year later.
But everything after the motel actually happened a year later.
#24
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - February 25, 2026, 05:24:14 PM I got my CWS file this morning. It is so much worse than I ever knew!
Everything that happened between January 27th 1974 (the motel) and April 11th 1975 (miss Pat) has been blocked out. I've lost over a year!!!
Processing...
Everything that happened between January 27th 1974 (the motel) and April 11th 1975 (miss Pat) has been blocked out. I've lost over a year!!!
Processing...
#25
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by sanmagic7 - February 25, 2026, 02:03:31 PMthanks, NK. the luncheon was not exactly what i thought it would be. One woman, who i didn't know, seemed to have a need to be heard about hers and her husbands physical problems. i was already too tired to stay, yet i didn't want to seem rude, so i waited till she had to go. then i left, but had a difficult time staying alert while driving home. guess that teaches me something.
#26
Please Introduce Yourself Here / Re: New here - I want to ackno...
Last post by NarcKiddo - February 25, 2026, 01:14:48 PMHello, Doug, and welcome from another UK resident.
Childhood neglect is certainly not innocuous. I'm glad you have had some good therapy and are getting to grips with the cause of your suffering. I'm also glad you are now able to study for your PhD and I hope membership of this forum might help you as you navigate the difficulties you are facing.
Childhood neglect is certainly not innocuous. I'm glad you have had some good therapy and are getting to grips with the cause of your suffering. I'm also glad you are now able to study for your PhD and I hope membership of this forum might help you as you navigate the difficulties you are facing.
#27
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by HannahOne - February 25, 2026, 12:12:11 PMSlashy, it was good to read how you found a more tenable path. Becoming a parent saved your life. Eric Maisel writes about high IQ people, his book about depression is particularly good I thought, and he has one called Why Smart People Hurt. I grew up in the 70s/80s at the height of the gifted kid BS and yeah, it was toxic. How can we take over the world, when we can't even hide our bruises or get a sandwich for lunch? Glad you're here.
#28
Please Introduce Yourself Here / New here - I want to acknowled...
Last post by Dougm - February 25, 2026, 09:50:49 AMHi all,
Thank-you for this free, impartial and non-judgemental website and forum. I want to join to have a place to talk openly about myself, to learn to express myself, and hopefully receive some encouragement and feedback.
My first post is to introduce myself, but also to acknowledge to myself that trauma affects me every day. I want to say to myself, this is me, this is what I must consider to acknowledge my daily struggles. Because, for some reason, it is so easy to pretend that I dont struggle, or I am not hurting.
I am a 49yr old man, I live in the UK and am studying towards a PhD in conservation and ecology. This PhD in and work in academia is something I have wanted to do since I left undergrad university in 1996, aged 20. But at that time I developed a psychosis (it was called schizoaffective disorder or schizophrenia) that became quite debilitating and I was deteriorating in terms of my general functioning. I did not hear voices or believe I was someone I was not, but I had severe thought disorders. I would describe my mind as haywire, it was packed full with continuous racing thoughts (many negative ones about myself). But when I would try to describe my thoughts, my mind would go completely blank. It felt like a trapdoor opened in my mind, into which the thoughts disappeared. Emotionally I was in a permanent panic mode, like a deer in the headlights, 24 hours a day, and getting worse by the day.
In 1997 I was put on risperidone, an anti-psychotic medication. It seemed to really work for me at the time, it drew me out of the psychosis and my racing thoughts subsided. I felt like myself again. However I was only just beginning to learn about myself. The medication only functioned in stabilising my thoughts. It of course did not address the underlying causes of the psychosis, of which I knew absolutely nothing about at the time, thinking I grew up in a totally normal and loving family.
Over the years I worked as a waiter, a teaching assistant and then in the pharmaceutical industry. I stopped taking risperidone in 2010 and have not needed it since. I had some good therapy that helped me understand the causes of my psychosis.
It has taken me 27 years to get to the point where I can do the thing I love, however I am still finding it so difficult. I'm regularly paralysed with fear at my desk. I struggle to ask for help. I struggle to interact with my peers (most of whom are half my age) and I am incredibly lonely throughout it all. There are lots of positives in some of the relationships I am slowly building, but it is a long and slow process.
This is about seeing myself as a person whose personal development, personal relationships and sense of identity has been impaired and stunted due to simple and seemingly innocuous neglect during childhood. But it childhood neglect is far from innocuous. I want to post more about my upbringing next.
Thanks for reading this.
Thank-you for this free, impartial and non-judgemental website and forum. I want to join to have a place to talk openly about myself, to learn to express myself, and hopefully receive some encouragement and feedback.
My first post is to introduce myself, but also to acknowledge to myself that trauma affects me every day. I want to say to myself, this is me, this is what I must consider to acknowledge my daily struggles. Because, for some reason, it is so easy to pretend that I dont struggle, or I am not hurting.
I am a 49yr old man, I live in the UK and am studying towards a PhD in conservation and ecology. This PhD in and work in academia is something I have wanted to do since I left undergrad university in 1996, aged 20. But at that time I developed a psychosis (it was called schizoaffective disorder or schizophrenia) that became quite debilitating and I was deteriorating in terms of my general functioning. I did not hear voices or believe I was someone I was not, but I had severe thought disorders. I would describe my mind as haywire, it was packed full with continuous racing thoughts (many negative ones about myself). But when I would try to describe my thoughts, my mind would go completely blank. It felt like a trapdoor opened in my mind, into which the thoughts disappeared. Emotionally I was in a permanent panic mode, like a deer in the headlights, 24 hours a day, and getting worse by the day.
In 1997 I was put on risperidone, an anti-psychotic medication. It seemed to really work for me at the time, it drew me out of the psychosis and my racing thoughts subsided. I felt like myself again. However I was only just beginning to learn about myself. The medication only functioned in stabilising my thoughts. It of course did not address the underlying causes of the psychosis, of which I knew absolutely nothing about at the time, thinking I grew up in a totally normal and loving family.
Over the years I worked as a waiter, a teaching assistant and then in the pharmaceutical industry. I stopped taking risperidone in 2010 and have not needed it since. I had some good therapy that helped me understand the causes of my psychosis.
It has taken me 27 years to get to the point where I can do the thing I love, however I am still finding it so difficult. I'm regularly paralysed with fear at my desk. I struggle to ask for help. I struggle to interact with my peers (most of whom are half my age) and I am incredibly lonely throughout it all. There are lots of positives in some of the relationships I am slowly building, but it is a long and slow process.
This is about seeing myself as a person whose personal development, personal relationships and sense of identity has been impaired and stunted due to simple and seemingly innocuous neglect during childhood. But it childhood neglect is far from innocuous. I want to post more about my upbringing next.
Thanks for reading this.
#29
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - February 25, 2026, 06:06:31 AM The two factors that frustrated my investigation most:
#1 Grownups never tell kids anything.
#2 kids grow up not realizing that anything needs investigating until it's far too late to question principal witnesses.
This odyssey was the culmination of a 50+ year old forensic investigator doggedly pursuing leads based solely on the random observations of an uninformed toddler. Observations that shouldn't even have been retained in the first place. There will never be a "Perry Mason" climax where I triumphantly slam the folder full of damning evidence down in front of the defendant. The guilty parties are dead and gone.
Immunity to infantile amnesia is the world's dumbest superpower.
#1 Grownups never tell kids anything.
#2 kids grow up not realizing that anything needs investigating until it's far too late to question principal witnesses.
This odyssey was the culmination of a 50+ year old forensic investigator doggedly pursuing leads based solely on the random observations of an uninformed toddler. Observations that shouldn't even have been retained in the first place. There will never be a "Perry Mason" climax where I triumphantly slam the folder full of damning evidence down in front of the defendant. The guilty parties are dead and gone.
Immunity to infantile amnesia is the world's dumbest superpower.
#30
Recovery Journals / Re: The ramblings of an abused...
Last post by GoSlash27 - February 25, 2026, 03:18:03 AM I realize in hindsight that my entire childhood from roughly age 2 on was formed by my relationships with my baby sister, mother, and grandmother in that order and my mother was the overarching factor.
I spent most of my time as a 2 year old with my baby sister because my brother really didn't want to play with me despite a similar age gap between me and my sister. He wanted to play with the big kids and always seemed like he kinda resented us.
And so I was always playing with my baby sister before she could even walk. I'd play with her in playpen like a prison visit. we'd toss toys, make faces, and laugh... And mom would chase me away.
That progressed to me climbing into the playpen with her... and mom would chase me away.
After a while when she could stand mom would banish both of us. I'd climb out of the playpen and wrestle her out like an oversized "my buddy" doll and lug her off to go play in the next room.
As she learned to walk we'd explore "Hingepin Manor" together and explore more remote parts of the house.
Always with mom not wanting us making too much noise near her and grandma taking the role of a proper mother.
When we were with the abusive babysitter, what really hurt was when she went after my baby sister.
When CYS showed up and ripped us apart, what *really* hurt was watching them take away my baby sister.
Years later when reunited, my baby sister and I rapidly became the "wonder twins". We dressed alike, did everything together, and developed a seemingly- psychic ability to communicate through body language and facial expressions. Same usual dynamic with mom and grandma. Mom wanted us anywhere but around bothering her. When she wasn't asleep or watching TV, she was out partying. Grandma did the "mothering" jobs.
As we rolled into the '80s and home life became more and more chaotic and dangerous, my sister began to reject and even resent me. I never understood that and I was deeply hurt by it. I had never done anything to her to deserve that treatment.
Grandma bailed when mom shacked up with her abusive boyfriend, so we were just left to fend for ourselves mainly by avoiding home as much as possible.
Mom never wanted to be a "mom". She would interact with us only when it was convenient for her; almost more like pets than kids. Trained pets who she could show off who were actually "trained" by our grandmother, then later self- taught. She was volatile, manipulative, occasionally irrational and violent. It's not that she didn't want kids or want us per se... She just didn't want to be a mom.
Grandma was a good mom. She taught me to read, how to read a clock, bible verses, manners, morality stories... everything. She cooked the meals, brought me mercurochrome for my scraped knees, and sometimes just told stories or engaged me in projects. She was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in our development.
She was also crazy as heck, but she was not mean or abusive.
When I skipped town to start a new life with my family I abandoned all of them, including my sister. I wanted nothing to do with anybody in my FOO. And that's how it stayed for the next quarter century.
I spent most of my time as a 2 year old with my baby sister because my brother really didn't want to play with me despite a similar age gap between me and my sister. He wanted to play with the big kids and always seemed like he kinda resented us.
And so I was always playing with my baby sister before she could even walk. I'd play with her in playpen like a prison visit. we'd toss toys, make faces, and laugh... And mom would chase me away.
That progressed to me climbing into the playpen with her... and mom would chase me away.
After a while when she could stand mom would banish both of us. I'd climb out of the playpen and wrestle her out like an oversized "my buddy" doll and lug her off to go play in the next room.
As she learned to walk we'd explore "Hingepin Manor" together and explore more remote parts of the house.
Always with mom not wanting us making too much noise near her and grandma taking the role of a proper mother.
When we were with the abusive babysitter, what really hurt was when she went after my baby sister.
When CYS showed up and ripped us apart, what *really* hurt was watching them take away my baby sister.
Years later when reunited, my baby sister and I rapidly became the "wonder twins". We dressed alike, did everything together, and developed a seemingly- psychic ability to communicate through body language and facial expressions. Same usual dynamic with mom and grandma. Mom wanted us anywhere but around bothering her. When she wasn't asleep or watching TV, she was out partying. Grandma did the "mothering" jobs.
As we rolled into the '80s and home life became more and more chaotic and dangerous, my sister began to reject and even resent me. I never understood that and I was deeply hurt by it. I had never done anything to her to deserve that treatment.
Grandma bailed when mom shacked up with her abusive boyfriend, so we were just left to fend for ourselves mainly by avoiding home as much as possible.
Mom never wanted to be a "mom". She would interact with us only when it was convenient for her; almost more like pets than kids. Trained pets who she could show off who were actually "trained" by our grandmother, then later self- taught. She was volatile, manipulative, occasionally irrational and violent. It's not that she didn't want kids or want us per se... She just didn't want to be a mom.
Grandma was a good mom. She taught me to read, how to read a clock, bible verses, manners, morality stories... everything. She cooked the meals, brought me mercurochrome for my scraped knees, and sometimes just told stories or engaged me in projects. She was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in our development.
She was also crazy as heck, but she was not mean or abusive.
When I skipped town to start a new life with my family I abandoned all of them, including my sister. I wanted nothing to do with anybody in my FOO. And that's how it stayed for the next quarter century.