The ramblings of an abused kid (trigger warnings galore)

[NarcKiddo]

That's very sad. Thank you for being brave enough to be so honest. I don't stand in judgement. The ripples from abuse spread far and wide. Sometimes relationships that in theory could be salvaged, in fact can't. I think many of us here, if not all of us, have learned the hard way that the only person who can keep us safe is ourself. When we eventually find a way that we can live with, it is what it is.

[GoSlash27]

 I've figured out the root of my heightened anxiety these past few weeks. It's my decision to request the records from my time in foster care in '74. It ramped up when they e-mailed me back and said they had retrieved them.
 Sleeplessness, unrestful sleep, loss of appetite, gimpiness, jumpiness, emotional instability, loss of focus, tremors...
 I'm not afraid of what I may find in that file. I have enough episodic memories to know basically what happened. I'm excited to learn the details and fill in some blanks. Names, dates, addresses, circumstances.
 But my subconscious is *terrified* that I'm asking questions, actively digging, and finding answers. I'm not supposed to do this. I'm supposed to drop this matter and carry on, stop being so nosey. After all, my subconscious screwed up my memories for my own protection. 
 My T told me that "letting it go" is what a lot of people do. They hang onto the memories they retain, heal, grow, and move forward. But perhaps due to my innate inquisitiveness or fractured sense of "self", I cannot.

 I've been living with cPTSD since I was a teenager and my adult life was pretty much normal (for me) up until 3 years ago. I had all the hallmarks of it, but I didn't know. It wasn't until I found out that I had it that it got really bad.
 It's like a scab that won't heal because I won't stop picking at it. I don't know what will happen from here. Maybe I'll get my answers, maybe I'll crash out.   
   
 
 

[GoSlash27]

Point is (in response to Narc Kiddo) I'm not on a course to a way I can live with. Or maybe I am. I dunno. 
 I'm just on a course to... something. Ol' Charlie's stole the handle and the train won't stop going. No way to slow down. This isn't the way "recovery" is supposed to work as I understand it.
 
 To be clear, I'm not in crisis. I'm not suicidal or anything like that. I don't need intervention. It's just a very stressful time for me. Just venting.

 Best,
-Slashy