Recent posts
#91
Neglect/Abandonment / deprivation
Last post by sanmagic7 - February 05, 2026, 03:04:24 PMwhen speaking w/ my new T the other day, telling her a little about my early years, the word 'deprivation' came out of my mouth. altho i've spoken before about being touch deprived, when i was talking to my T, the encompassing word 'deprivation' came out of my mouth and i realized i'm dealing w/ more than being deprived of touch.
i can see the idea of deprivation pervading so much of my life now. touch deprivation and how i would trade my body just to be touched, how, when i was drunk, i'd sling an arm over the shoulders of whoever i went out with, i touch peoples' arms when talking to them, even back when i smoked, and a man would offer to light my cigarette, i'd touch his hand to guide the light toward me.
deprived of the basics of living. i remember dusting, once, then watching as my M went over the spaces i'd just dusted cuz apparently i left a few motes behind. i once asked her if she'd teach me to cook, her answer was 'you'll have plenty of time to learn when you're married.' this deprivation led to nearly being asked to leave the apt. i was living in w/ my S and 2 girlfriends, the first time my S and i were living somewhere other than under my parents' roof. my friends told us that if we didn't get our act together about cleaning up after ourselves, making our own food, helping w/ household chores, they were going to have to ask us to leave. how embarrassing was that! somehow they helped us learn what we'd never learned from our M, and had a long, lovely relationship w/ them in the end.
then the idea of deprivation on a broader scale began taking over my mind. i was deprived of feeling like a girl, being like a girl - it was an aunt of mine who get me my first bra, talked to me about how my breasts were developing. not a word from my mother before or after. i dressed up in my dad's clothes once when i was about 5, and he laughed (i made him happy!) and nicknamed me after a comic strip character who was a boy. when i got teased for having hair on my legs, my parents would not allow me to shave them - my dad told me that once i started doing that i'd have to do that the rest of my life - so i began wearing knee highs all the time. when i told him i wanted to be a princess, he told me no, i didn't. i wasn't allowed to wear makeup until i was a senior in high school, even tho i'd sneak some eyeliner every so often. and one christmas my S and i got undershirts, which my mom noticed were for boys, and my F said 'well, they act like boys anyway.'
that deprivation evolved into me being ashamed of my 'lady parts', especially my breasts, and i've always felt uncomfortable about them, believing them to be ugly and needing to be hidden away under baggy shirts, often from the men's department. i've worn a lot of men's clothes in my life, feeling uncomfortable in the form fit of clothes for women. but one of my dearest memories was when i was about 5, our family went to a convention for where my F worked, and i was dressed in a wonderful taffeta black and white striped dress. i saw a picture of me in it, and i was smiling so wide, so happy to be dressed like a girl. i loved that dress, but i don't remember ever being able to wear it again.
deprived of support, nurturing, celebration for what i accomplished. nearly all my life i've been looking to make my F proud of me, accomplishing this and that and the other, things no one in our extended family had done. he died when i was in my 20's, but the push to make him proud lingered, drove me to do more and more. maybe this time . . .
telling my parents how lonely i felt, crying about it cuz i was so distressed met w/ the 2 of them standing, looking at me, questioning me as to whether i was mental and needed a shrink. no arm around the shoulder from either, no hug, no 'bringing me in' to comfort me.
bedtime was cold, dark, robotic. never hugs, no kisses, no bedtime stories or being tucked in.
'stop crying or i'll give you something to cry about' was the type of attention i got when distressed, sad, scared, whatever i might have been. deprived of nurturing, warmth, empathy or sympathy. questions weren't allowed, somehow ii knew that, so i learned to make things ok in my world the best i could. expectations ruled my roost, expected to be perfect yet given no encouragement other than 'next time you can do better'.
and when i got older, got into marriages, 3 of them, for one reason or another i was deprived of sex by all 3 hubs. that deprivation led to me questioning my desirability as a woman. all along the way i was deprived of kindness, care, consideration even by friends. i was deprived of respect by the head of therapy cuz i didn't work w/ the girls therapeutically the same way she knew how to do. she expected me to do.
so, the idea of deprivation, when it came out of my mouth last monday, hit me hard. i believe it added to the confusion, not only about myself but about my role in the world, among people, in relationships, classes - whatever it was i was being part of. i just didn't know how.
i needed to write this down, get it out of me, see it in black and white, so to speak. it's much larger than i knew, had much more impact on my 'being' than i could've guessed. i did order some clogs last year, and for the first time i remember, i wanted them to be feminine clogs, not unisex. at the time i was struck by that, but i really love them and how they look. i do want to be a girl after all, i am a girl, and i'm finally feeling more ok with being one.
and on and on. this sense of deprivation, which i've kind of known is now out in full force. dealing with it will be another level, but at least i know what i'm dealing with. it's turned out to be an insidious wounding, not blasting in your face kind of wound, nothing physical was dealt me (which is part of the problem), yet deprivation has had long and lasting impacts on my life and living. deep breath, and into the breach i go.
i can see the idea of deprivation pervading so much of my life now. touch deprivation and how i would trade my body just to be touched, how, when i was drunk, i'd sling an arm over the shoulders of whoever i went out with, i touch peoples' arms when talking to them, even back when i smoked, and a man would offer to light my cigarette, i'd touch his hand to guide the light toward me.
deprived of the basics of living. i remember dusting, once, then watching as my M went over the spaces i'd just dusted cuz apparently i left a few motes behind. i once asked her if she'd teach me to cook, her answer was 'you'll have plenty of time to learn when you're married.' this deprivation led to nearly being asked to leave the apt. i was living in w/ my S and 2 girlfriends, the first time my S and i were living somewhere other than under my parents' roof. my friends told us that if we didn't get our act together about cleaning up after ourselves, making our own food, helping w/ household chores, they were going to have to ask us to leave. how embarrassing was that! somehow they helped us learn what we'd never learned from our M, and had a long, lovely relationship w/ them in the end.
then the idea of deprivation on a broader scale began taking over my mind. i was deprived of feeling like a girl, being like a girl - it was an aunt of mine who get me my first bra, talked to me about how my breasts were developing. not a word from my mother before or after. i dressed up in my dad's clothes once when i was about 5, and he laughed (i made him happy!) and nicknamed me after a comic strip character who was a boy. when i got teased for having hair on my legs, my parents would not allow me to shave them - my dad told me that once i started doing that i'd have to do that the rest of my life - so i began wearing knee highs all the time. when i told him i wanted to be a princess, he told me no, i didn't. i wasn't allowed to wear makeup until i was a senior in high school, even tho i'd sneak some eyeliner every so often. and one christmas my S and i got undershirts, which my mom noticed were for boys, and my F said 'well, they act like boys anyway.'
that deprivation evolved into me being ashamed of my 'lady parts', especially my breasts, and i've always felt uncomfortable about them, believing them to be ugly and needing to be hidden away under baggy shirts, often from the men's department. i've worn a lot of men's clothes in my life, feeling uncomfortable in the form fit of clothes for women. but one of my dearest memories was when i was about 5, our family went to a convention for where my F worked, and i was dressed in a wonderful taffeta black and white striped dress. i saw a picture of me in it, and i was smiling so wide, so happy to be dressed like a girl. i loved that dress, but i don't remember ever being able to wear it again.
deprived of support, nurturing, celebration for what i accomplished. nearly all my life i've been looking to make my F proud of me, accomplishing this and that and the other, things no one in our extended family had done. he died when i was in my 20's, but the push to make him proud lingered, drove me to do more and more. maybe this time . . .
telling my parents how lonely i felt, crying about it cuz i was so distressed met w/ the 2 of them standing, looking at me, questioning me as to whether i was mental and needed a shrink. no arm around the shoulder from either, no hug, no 'bringing me in' to comfort me.
bedtime was cold, dark, robotic. never hugs, no kisses, no bedtime stories or being tucked in.
'stop crying or i'll give you something to cry about' was the type of attention i got when distressed, sad, scared, whatever i might have been. deprived of nurturing, warmth, empathy or sympathy. questions weren't allowed, somehow ii knew that, so i learned to make things ok in my world the best i could. expectations ruled my roost, expected to be perfect yet given no encouragement other than 'next time you can do better'.
and when i got older, got into marriages, 3 of them, for one reason or another i was deprived of sex by all 3 hubs. that deprivation led to me questioning my desirability as a woman. all along the way i was deprived of kindness, care, consideration even by friends. i was deprived of respect by the head of therapy cuz i didn't work w/ the girls therapeutically the same way she knew how to do. she expected me to do.
so, the idea of deprivation, when it came out of my mouth last monday, hit me hard. i believe it added to the confusion, not only about myself but about my role in the world, among people, in relationships, classes - whatever it was i was being part of. i just didn't know how.
i needed to write this down, get it out of me, see it in black and white, so to speak. it's much larger than i knew, had much more impact on my 'being' than i could've guessed. i did order some clogs last year, and for the first time i remember, i wanted them to be feminine clogs, not unisex. at the time i was struck by that, but i really love them and how they look. i do want to be a girl after all, i am a girl, and i'm finally feeling more ok with being one.
and on and on. this sense of deprivation, which i've kind of known is now out in full force. dealing with it will be another level, but at least i know what i'm dealing with. it's turned out to be an insidious wounding, not blasting in your face kind of wound, nothing physical was dealt me (which is part of the problem), yet deprivation has had long and lasting impacts on my life and living. deep breath, and into the breach i go.
#92
Recovery Journals / Re: My journey so far
Last post by NarcKiddo - February 05, 2026, 01:47:55 PMJust about to go to a session with T so cannot say more right now than
#93
Recovery Journals / Re: Marcine’s journaling forwa...
Last post by Marcine - February 05, 2026, 01:36:38 AMGrant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I must,
And wisdom to know the difference.
That classic prayer continues to offer insights to me.
Acceptance of what I can't change requires me to grieve.
Making necessary change requires a brave leap of faith into the unknown.
Discerning between what is and isn't in my control requires patience.
Above all, I benefit from seeing the truth. I welcome the truth.
Aligning with what's true no longer is a scary, life threatening, criminal, punishable-by-death choice.
It was dangerous to see and speak truth when I was young, little, and dependent on adults who force-fed me distorted falsehoods. I had to swallow the lie that everything was in my control and that I could change anything if I tried hard enough. If things weren't working, then it was my fault.
I was penalized when I tried to draw a line between what truly belonged to me and what was theirs.
Here now, I feel calm and clear-eyed.
I teach my students when they are stumped by a math problem— "start with what you know."
I tell my kids when they aren't sure of the next step forward— "start with what you know."
I tell myself— "start with what you know."
I know this to be true:
- I practice honesty, compassion, and integrity.
- I live a principled life, in alignment with what I value.
- I provide unconditional love, nurturing and protection for my kids.
- I am courageous and fierce in adversity.
- I am a good human being, connecting with other good beings.
That's a good start!
Courage to change the things I must,
And wisdom to know the difference.
That classic prayer continues to offer insights to me.
Acceptance of what I can't change requires me to grieve.
Making necessary change requires a brave leap of faith into the unknown.
Discerning between what is and isn't in my control requires patience.
Above all, I benefit from seeing the truth. I welcome the truth.
Aligning with what's true no longer is a scary, life threatening, criminal, punishable-by-death choice.
It was dangerous to see and speak truth when I was young, little, and dependent on adults who force-fed me distorted falsehoods. I had to swallow the lie that everything was in my control and that I could change anything if I tried hard enough. If things weren't working, then it was my fault.
I was penalized when I tried to draw a line between what truly belonged to me and what was theirs.
Here now, I feel calm and clear-eyed.
I teach my students when they are stumped by a math problem— "start with what you know."
I tell my kids when they aren't sure of the next step forward— "start with what you know."
I tell myself— "start with what you know."
I know this to be true:
- I practice honesty, compassion, and integrity.
- I live a principled life, in alignment with what I value.
- I provide unconditional love, nurturing and protection for my kids.
- I am courageous and fierce in adversity.
- I am a good human being, connecting with other good beings.
That's a good start!
#94
Recovery Journals / Re: My journey so far
Last post by Little2Nothing - February 04, 2026, 10:16:00 PMArmee & Marcine THANK YOU!!!
#95
Recovery Journals / Re: My journey so far
Last post by Marcine - February 04, 2026, 10:03:29 PMHello Little2Nothing,
Congratulations on these successes! I am inspired by your words, particularly: "It is no longer my secret."
I feel that deeply.
Again, congrats!
Congratulations on these successes! I am inspired by your words, particularly: "It is no longer my secret."
I feel that deeply.
Again, congrats!
#96
Recovery Journals / Re: My journey so far
Last post by Armee - February 04, 2026, 09:56:11 PM
Phenomenal progress and Happy Birthday! It IS a miracle
#97
Recovery Journals / Re: My journey so far
Last post by Little2Nothing - February 04, 2026, 08:50:44 PMLast month I made it to 70. Never thought I'd live this long.
That is a big milestone for me. With entering the ranks of the elderly I also had some helpful breakthroughs with my T.
There were events in my life that I have not been able to verbalize. Every time I tried to talk about them I was mute. No words would come out. It had been an ongoing struggle.
A couple of weeks ago I was finally able to partially talk about those things on a very surface level. For me that was huge. I still have a long way to go, but, right now, I don't feel defeated by my inability to speak.
Just slighty verbalizing these incidents has been extremely freeing. It is no longer my secret. I have begun to uncover the ugliness and inward pain it produced.
After all these years I am beginning to realize that I am not guilty of the actions of my abuser. It is a horrible trick that my abuser pulled to get me to willingly carry their guilt and shame as though it was my own.
Anyway, for me this is huge. There seems to be a bright light at the end of this disastrous tunnel.
That is a big milestone for me. With entering the ranks of the elderly I also had some helpful breakthroughs with my T.
There were events in my life that I have not been able to verbalize. Every time I tried to talk about them I was mute. No words would come out. It had been an ongoing struggle.
A couple of weeks ago I was finally able to partially talk about those things on a very surface level. For me that was huge. I still have a long way to go, but, right now, I don't feel defeated by my inability to speak.
Just slighty verbalizing these incidents has been extremely freeing. It is no longer my secret. I have begun to uncover the ugliness and inward pain it produced.
After all these years I am beginning to realize that I am not guilty of the actions of my abuser. It is a horrible trick that my abuser pulled to get me to willingly carry their guilt and shame as though it was my own.
Anyway, for me this is huge. There seems to be a bright light at the end of this disastrous tunnel.
#98
Employment / Re: "Picking" a career
Last post by Teddy bear - February 04, 2026, 07:58:56 PMThank you so much, Kizzie
I'm looking forward to my new course and am continuing my math course, which is now in its second semester. (Sometimes I feel a bit burned out, though, because of various commitments.)
Yes, I'm considering some options, like making another attempt to find a doctor—possibly abroad. But I'm having a break from psychiatry for a little while. (I wish I could stay away from it indefinitely!)
Thanks again for the warm atmosphere here 💚🙏
I'm looking forward to my new course and am continuing my math course, which is now in its second semester. (Sometimes I feel a bit burned out, though, because of various commitments.)
Yes, I'm considering some options, like making another attempt to find a doctor—possibly abroad. But I'm having a break from psychiatry for a little while. (I wish I could stay away from it indefinitely!)
Thanks again for the warm atmosphere here 💚🙏
#99
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by TheBigBlue - February 04, 2026, 04:04:35 PMI'm so happy for you that your T session went well and made you feel calm
#100
Recovery Journals / Re: the next step
Last post by sanmagic7 - February 04, 2026, 03:58:43 PMhannah1, i totally agree. having someone listen and also having appropriate responses to what i'm saying - different from just sitting there like a robot w/ no reaction at all - does feel like i'm not only being heard but validated at the same time, which is gold to me. since i've had no reactions for so long, so much confusion about myself and what i'm going thru, those reactions mean the world to me. i must remember to tell her that next time. it is a healing feeling. thanks for reiterating that for me.
i'm now looking forward to my next session. feeling calmer feels very good. it seems that calm comes to me only every so often, lasts a short time, then disappears and i can't get it back no matter what i try/do. so, this was really nice.
my galpal cancelled my visit today - she sounded very stuffy on phone and said she's got a dry cough. her D has been sick since christmas, and my galpal went over there last week to help take care of her. i mentioned she might have gotten sick from that visit. suddenly she decided that she didn't really think she was sick, as in ill, and we'll reschedule for next week. i said i'm fine w/ waiting until she's completely well, she kind of again asserted she didn't think she was really sick, just caught a cough somehow. i told her if i were to come over and she was still coughing i'd be masking up, and she was fine w/ that.
when i told my D all this, she immediately began shaking her head, as in NO NO NO, not a good thing. so, we'll evaluate how it goes, how she feels once the weekend is over. i feel sick-y enough too often to risk getting ill for real. since covid started, i've been very careful. the only thing i got was that norovirus, the puking flu, and i wanted to die. the worst of it lasted overnite, but i was ill because of it for a good week, maybe more. no thank you.
i'm now looking forward to my next session. feeling calmer feels very good. it seems that calm comes to me only every so often, lasts a short time, then disappears and i can't get it back no matter what i try/do. so, this was really nice.
my galpal cancelled my visit today - she sounded very stuffy on phone and said she's got a dry cough. her D has been sick since christmas, and my galpal went over there last week to help take care of her. i mentioned she might have gotten sick from that visit. suddenly she decided that she didn't really think she was sick, as in ill, and we'll reschedule for next week. i said i'm fine w/ waiting until she's completely well, she kind of again asserted she didn't think she was really sick, just caught a cough somehow. i told her if i were to come over and she was still coughing i'd be masking up, and she was fine w/ that.
when i told my D all this, she immediately began shaking her head, as in NO NO NO, not a good thing. so, we'll evaluate how it goes, how she feels once the weekend is over. i feel sick-y enough too often to risk getting ill for real. since covid started, i've been very careful. the only thing i got was that norovirus, the puking flu, and i wanted to die. the worst of it lasted overnite, but i was ill because of it for a good week, maybe more. no thank you.