Denial of what happened the majority of my life **TW (Physical Abuse, Feces)

[Aish]

So I have been to a lot of therapy.  And eventually I just started white knuckling it.  Dredging up the worst of the worst memories I could think of and there were just layers and layers of them. 

Only after forcing the discomfort over and over in exhausting therapy sessions could I even begin to start to remember what happened to me as a child.  But like any skill it does get easier.

This story follows my therapy and how it unraveled.  So it starts when I was 26.

At age 26 I ended up in the  mental health hospital -- Due to extreme paranoia about my parents conspiring to kill me.  The triggering event was a calm dinner with my mother and step father.  I always did what ever my mother and step father wanted, I was obsequious (trained to be).  And this particular evening I believed they were trying to poison me.  I was a failure and disappointment and I was a problem in their life.  At the same time I didn't want to disappoint my mother and step father, out of unconscious fear, so I ate the food with the best facade of joyfulness I could muster.  Weeks after the dinner I became unhinged and went to the mental health hospital.  I stayed for over 40 days.  This is when my reflection begins.

The first layer of fear I dealt with was actually being at the mental health hospital.  You see I myself had a horrible stigma against people that went to the mental hospital.  So I was afraid of the people I was around and I was afraid of myself.  I was the least tolerant person for myself.  So unknowingly I facilitated the mental health stigma.  And it made me incredibly afraid of myself. It made me think I didn't understand myself.  I was so afraid I was just reactionary in the mental hospital.  I had no perspective.  I was just emotionally hijacked and the fear I had been living in my entire life was now focused on myself.  I am crazy, I am unstable, I am in a mental hospital, something is horrifically wrong with me.

A staff member in the mental hospital told me, 'it is ridiculous to think your parents would risk jail time, for the rest of their lives to poison you, you are having a delusion, you are paranoid and reacting out of fear.'(paraphrased) And I eventually agreed with her.  So I knew something was wrong with my mind, but I didn't know why...

I took this statement to heart.  I really did and I am grateful I did.  And this statement didn't make sense to me until I found out about CPTSD...

You see my parents independently of each other abused me from a very early age.  When I was alone with my mother at the age of 4 I just remember yelling and screaming, intimidation. And when she wasn't yelling, screaming, or intimidating me, she was neglecting me.  My earliest memories are horrible, and it makes sense because evolutionarily you are designed to remember threats.  If a threat is a caretaker that is when it gets complex...

My father and mother got divorced when I was 7 or so.  And when I was acting like a brat I was beaten to the point I blacked out.  Abuse is always two fold in my family.  There is the initial abuse, like the physical abuse, and then there is the intimidating and manipulation that comes afterwards.  My mother and father can smell my insecurity on me, and use it to manipulate me.  Out of fear I would do anything to appease either of my parents.  They knew this, they capitalized on this. And there are no truer words in my mind, I grew up my parent's *.  I would do anything they wanted me to do.  Out of fear which eventually became unconscious.  This unconscious fear was eventually labeled as 'love' when I was older.  And I ridiculously tried to recreate it in relationships....

This led to classic co-dependent relationships.  Girls that actually treated me well were rejected, girls that treated me horribly were accepted.

The only reason why I know I had unconsciously labeled my fear as love towards my parents as a child and growing up is because I discovered what true love actually was.   A woman from Peru loved me for who I was.  I met her on e-harmony and she had no mental health stigma that is so common in America.  At my most vulnerable a woman chose to love me for who I was, and it is probably the only reason why I have been able to heal.  She was so excited to be with me and completely accepted me for who I was, helped me through my insecurities and helped me to learn what love was.  That love is a stark contrast from any relationship I have with my parents.  Everything with my parents is transactional, while everything with my Peruvian friend loved me for who I was.

So via my mother verbal abuse, bullying and intimidation since I was 4 or 5.  When this wasn't going on it was neglect.
Via my father I was beat, and trained to blame myself for why he beat.  My father could just look at me a certain way and I would do whatever he wanted...

After the initial fear and insecurity was established both of my parents manipulated me relentlessly to make do whatever they wanted.  And because I am the youngest of 5 kids, they had very little interest in me.  My parents were genuinely overwhelmed with children while living in poverty with too many children.  So even when they had energy the last thing they would put attention into was their children, least of all their fifth.

My motto growing up was 'self taught or bust'.  And because I was not the smartest person in the world I failed a lot.  I embraced failing.  I wanted to succeed but I literally had no person to teach me to do that.

When I was in high school I had no idea how to treat people.  I treated people so badly on a field trip that they all ganged up on me.  They put * on my mouth while I was asleep.  And the rest of my high school career I was known as '* lip'.  You see bullying and abuse followed exactly the same pattern my parent's abuse did.  First there was the initial and temporary trauma: the actual * on my mouth.  Then the relentless fear that came afterwards when random people in school would run up to me to confirm whether or not the story was true.  I never got use to it.  And my 'friends' at the time even called me the nickname.

So eventually my fear of my parents extended to be afraid of people in my community, which eventually lead to feelings of worthlessness which I don't have to tell anyone what that leads to.

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I don't even know if this post makes any sense anymore, but referring back to the title, I was in denial of what happened to me for 30 years of  my life.  The fear my parents facilitated in my life from childhood was something I interpreted as love.  When I tried to deny what happened to me, what happened to me on the school field trip it was impossible.  Literal people through the gossip mill would randomly confront me with reality.  Maybe that is the only way I learned to actually confront reality.  The fear on top of fear of people confronting me brought me back?

My complex PTSD is complex.
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tl;dr --> I only survived these experiences by forgiving my abusers.  All of them.  The righteous indignation I had towards my abusers never led me to a place that was socially acceptable.  Somehow , somewhere I learned to forgive, maybe as a defense mechanism.  This post is a reflection of my mess of a life but I am determined to get over it.  I am determined to find a way to integrate myself into society and move on.

I want to obtain my memory and do so many things.

[woodsgnome]

Thanks for having the courage to share some of what set you off on the wrong foot, so to speak.

While exact circumstances vary, I know only too well that gnawing feeling of denial mixed with rage, all wrapped within an unfathomable sadness.

And it hangs in there. So many times, once I thought I'd relieved some of the denial and then find it flaring up again (not sure if I ever fully am able to fully recover, whatever that means). It's a vicious cycle, leading to lots of self-doubt and self-hatred, mixed with a distrust of everyone.

It seems, though, that you're willing to turn your realization of what went horribly wrong around, and that willingness is key, the starting point of the new outlook on life you want and deserve. Your wonderful Peruvian friend's acceptance of you was inspiring to read about.

The journey out of the misery you describe has been full of pain, for sure; but maybe now you will find some equilibrium along with the discernment you've demonstrated by sharing these horrific -- along with some healing -- experiences. 

I hope you can continue finding this new way of being.   

[Aish]

The journey out of the misery you describe has been full of pain, for sure; but maybe now you will find some equilibrium along with the discernment you've demonstrated by sharing these horrific -- along with some healing -- experiences. 

Yes I'm working on this so hard with my therapist.  I'm trying to get a narrative of my trauma so I don't get triggered by it.  It isn't easy and it is exhausting but I think it is really worth while.  Rereading my post is an inchoate mess, but emotions are like that.  I'm obviously no storyteller, but just remembering everything, the bad, the good, the bad again, it is just something I want to get over so badly.  Thank you for your response.

[Armadillo]

Gentle hugs to you. Something about your description of your calm dinner with your parents really broke my heart. I'm sorry for the abuse they put you through, that your classmates put you through. You didn't deserve any of it.

[Eidolon]

Like Armadillo said, I wish you the best in gentle healing. I've been in a similar situation with physical abuse and I can only hope for the best for you. None of the abuse was your fault. No matter how much your abusers might try to convince you otherwise.

[Aish]

Truly I appreciate the responses.  Sometimes I think what happened to me was so disgusting it literally overwhelms the people I tell the story to.