Jazzy's Journal

[Three Roses]

So, today was better than yesterday, but still a bit rough. I woke up 3 or 4 times throughout the night, terrified of something... I'm not sure what....

Sometimes when I would reveal something here (or to a friend), I would experience what I call an "overshare hangover", an emotional hangover - not a flashback, just a deep sense of guilt and shame for talking about my past. I was wondering if maybe this is why you had trouble sleeping, because you'd shared something with us. I might be off base but I thought I'd suggest it. Best wishes to you and thanks for posting. 

[Snowdrop]

A big part of the problem is that I literally have such difficulty speaking when trying to admit something like this. My thoughts kind of go blank, and no words come.

I can relate to this so much. I used to think it was just me, but reading posts on here, it seems to be quite common. There's a section in The Body Keeps The Score about how trauma affects speech, which made a lot of sense to me. I found that writing things down definitely helped. 

[Jazzy]

ThreeRoses: Thank you for mentioning this. You're probably right. I've been trying to ignore this whole CPTSD thing for the last year or so, but that's really not helping it get better. I do want to get better... at least better than I am now. It does mean looking back in to all the nasty stuff though.



Snowdrop: Its nice to be alone, though I wish it wasn't common. I don't remember very clearly, but I know I did read that part and made a page with a passage quoted on it in big letters (explaining I couldn't speak and its common in trauma victims), which I would take and give to the crisis counselors when I went to see them. They were nice and just sat with me until I could somewhat speak again.

[Jazzy]

Its been quite an experience writing this all out. I've carried this inside of me all my life. Just me, all alone. I'm not really sure why I'm writing this. Maybe I'm looking for some compassion, or sympathy. Maybe I'm looking for someone to relate. I think at least I'm looking for some validation... that its okay for me to feel traumatized by these events. I keep trying to tell myself it doesn't matter what others think though. I'm really scared to share this, but I'm trying to do it as a step towards healing. If anyone ends up reading all this, thank you so much. At least you took the time to read my story.



TW: Death, Religion, PV, ... not sure what all to put here. I don't really know what's "bad enough" to deserve a TW. A lot of this stuff, I don't know of anyone else going through, so I don't know how it should be handled.



From what I can remember, it all started when I was 3 years old. My baby sister (an infant) had pneumonia and she was at the hospital. They told us that they were taking care of her, and everything would be fine, so we went out for dinner. Well, everything was not fine, and my dad got a call while we were out, informing him that she had passed. Apparently, sometimes, infants have a harder time dealing with things than is expected, and they just give up and die.  They called it SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome). So, this is how I learned about death. M had to explain to me why I would never see my sister again. After she finished, I tried to say something encouraging... along the lines of "at least we can remember her". She told me that it didn't matter anyway, because I was too young and would forget. Even though I told her I would always remember, her mind was made up. As you might imagine, I didn't take learning about death this way very well, and started to have nightmares.

I didn't know it at the time, but M entered a major depressive episode resulting from the loss of her daughter. F worked full time, and went to school, so he was home maybe for about 6 hours a day, and slept for all of them. What I did know is that the house was always dark and quiet, M spent most of her time in her room. Usually she just made Kraft Dinner, or something else simple. Sometimes I just ate cereal, because I could get that out of the cupboard myself. Occasionally, she would make a proper meal. I didn't like her cooking though, which always got me in trouble. I was told to eat it or eat nothing, so usually, I ate nothing. Nothing was a lot easier on my stomach.

These nightmares really scared me though, so I would often go crawl in to bed with M. It helped a bit to be there with her. Soon, though, she made it clear that she was tired of me bothering her. I guess she decided that the best approach was "tough love", and made me go back to my room and stay there. She did tell me though, when I had a bad dream and felt scared, that I should just pray, and god would help me feel better. I tried that for a long time, but it didn't work. I kept having the nightmares, every single night, and I woke up scared, every single night. It was difficult for me to understand why. I was told god was perfect, loved us all, wanted the best for us, and would help when we asked. The only conclusion I could come to, was that there was something so wrong with me, that god didn't even care. After only a few nights of being turned away by M, I realized that no one was going to help me, and I was in it alone. So, throughout the rest of this, try to keep in mind that those nightmares continued, every single night, for well over 10 years. They ruined my entire childhood, and no one really even knew it was happening. I think this was the worst, because it went on so regularly, and for such a long period of time. I hated going to bed, I hated sleeping, because I knew what was waiting for me.

However, after a couple of years it was time for me to start school. Of course my fanatic parents sent me to a private religious school, but it was still such a positive change to be away from home, and see other people. During the day with my friends and teachers, I could mostly forget about night time. As it turns out, I had a lot of charisma, and made a great leader. Unfortunately, it was a bit misdirected at such a young age, and at times I led the other children in things we knew we shouldn't be doing. Of course, most times, we ended up getting caught, and I accepted the blame I was due. One day, in the first grade, when I got home, M was mad at me for causing trouble. I got angry and repeated a bad word I had heard some of the other kids use on the playground. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew you weren't supposed to let the adults hear you say it.

Well, that was the last straw. I was getting in to trouble at school, and cursing at my mother. Clearly this school was a horrible place, and I would be doomed to eternal hellfire if I continued to attend. So, M got me taken out of school. Good bye escape from home, good bye friends, good bye charisma and personality. Her plan was to teach me herself, to make sure it was done right... which she did, for a couple of years. Mostly, I remember just reading and teaching myself everything (at least she did get me work books). Some years later, my parents split, M went to work, as well as F, and I literally had no one to teach me. I had to learn myself, and teach my younger sisters. My education suffered greatly. Not only in general, but I had absolutely no schooling in physical activities/gym, foreign languages, art, not to mention missing out on all the social lessons on the playground. It was just me, leading my sisters through another day. Eventually I wrote a high school equivalency test, as M demanded I be allowed to try... even though I was quite a bit behind, I did manage to pass. She knew I would be fine, I had always been smart. I guess she thought that made it all okay.

As I mentioned a few posts back, I was (acted/spoke/named) very different when I was alone compared to when M/other adults were around. If I didn't act perfectly in public, I would be punished later on. So I learned to act as I was expected to when any adults were around, no matter how I felt. I've never been able to be myself unless I'm alone. This split was so strongly forced on to me. Even to this day I have been unable to act freely. The bizarre thing is, I talk to M every Sunday, and she has no idea about any of this. She thinks we have a good relationship, and everything is fine. The sad thing is, it wasn't that hard for me to split myself like that. I already knew that no one really cared about me, because every night I had the nightmares, and I was alone dealing with it. Just like no one wanted to hear about my sleep troubles, no one cared what I was really like. They just wanted to see what looked good to them. Every night I made it through the nightmares. Making it through the falseness around others was far easier.

When I was 12, I started delivering newspapers to make some money for myself. Unfortunately, almost all of that money went towards helping out with the groceries and other bills. After a while, one paper route wasn't enough, and so I got others, working 6-8 hours a day to pay my parent's bills. I could do this, because I didn't go to school. How convenient for them.

With my parents being religious fanatics, of course corporal punishment was meted out regularly. They took the "spoil the rod, spare the child" verse very literally. Today, I feel horrible about the thought of anyone beating a child. But I feel so much worse about how much they had me brainwashed. At one point, I had found a nice piece of wood. It was about the right size/shape to be used for punishment, and so I took it, and decorated it with my wood burning kit. I was so happy that my parents were proud of me, for contributing to "improving myself". I can't write more on this topic, I'm starting to feel nauseous, but you get the point.

A little after I turned 12, those night mares I had every night progressed in to sleep paralysis. Well, after almost 10 years of constant night mares, I was about as comfortable with them as you can get, while being terrified every night. Sleep paralysis was a whole new beast though. This was physical. I had no idea that it was connected, and I thought something must be very wrong with me, physically speaking. So, I made the mistake of asking my parents for help. Well, of course, their answer was more praying... but not just any praying. They gathered a group from the church, held me down, and exorcised that demon right out of me. Of course, that only made me feel worse, and the night terrors and sleep paralysis continued on. You're supposed to tell your children that monsters aren't real, and they can't hurt you. My parents told me that they were real, spiritual, demonic creatures, which had direct mental and physical control over my life. I tried my best to be a good god-fearing person, just like my parents, but I was never good enough for god to help me. Every day this ate at me, and every time I asked for any help, especially in spiritual matters, it was reinforced that I just wasn't good enough, because it never really helped much.

When I was 16, my parents had split, and I lived with the one who I was least angry at, at that time. No surprise now, but for reasons I didn't understand then, I had extreme over production of adrenaline. I was afraid of my temper, I knew full well I was a danger to myself and others. One night I brought a date home, and M called her a whore to her face. I was so furious that I left and didn't go back, for fear of what I would do. Shortly after, F found himself a new woman and they were getting pretty close. I told him I had too much going on, and I couldn't handle a new family right now. So he decided to move in with her and her kids, and told me I could stay where I was. This triggered my first major depressive episode (that I can remember at least). I really should have been hospitalized, but like it had been every night, no one cared; no one even knew. I honestly don't know how I lived through it. I don't know what or how I ate. I remember laying in bed for days. After 6 months or so, I moved in with a friend. This is about when the nightmares paused for a while. They came back later.



So, that's childhood as I remember... there's more as an adult, but that's enough for now.

[Jazzy]

P.S. I probably shouldn't have to say this here, but just in case: Please don't give me anything along the lines of  "you're wrong about god" or "god loves you anyway". I've heard that from almost anyone, and I really don't want to hear it anymore. There's a time and place for religious talk, but this isn't it. Thanks.

[Three Roses]

Jazzy - I am aghast at how disconnected your "parents" were! It makes me so sad and angry to think of you or anyone having to weather childhood alone and without proper guidance.

Your parents were abusive in their treatment of you. There is no excuse for that.

Your parents sound a lot like mine, by the way (minus the totally misguided, abusive religious rites that no child should have to endure); I hope that at least lets you know you're not alone. Your background was horrendous, but I'm glad you survived it and I am so glad you are here. 

[Tee]

  jazzy besides being taken out of school.  My story is very similar to yours.  Instead of a little sister dying. 
TW
It was my best friend when I was 6 and I was told by my mom I should be happy for her she in heaven.  And then beaten to the point I couldn't sit for days when the school called to her I was crying the whole day at school after she died.
End TW

My NM was a "minister" or pastor.  So I feel your pain.  And I too was told to pray but help never came and no one ever cared not even God. 

I'm sorry you struggled so and split to survive.  I did that too.  I'm not sure how or why I'm still here?   . Thanks for sharing your story.  I know some of your pain you are not alone.

[Snowdrop]

Jazzy, I read your journal, and you have every right to feel traumatised. You were treated disgracefully. It was abusive and neglectful, and you didn't deserve any of it.

[Jazzy]

Thank you so much for the positive replies everyone. It is a huge relief, and I appreciate the support more than I could ever say. Beyond that, I'm still very worked up about this. My body has been keeping the score today for sure. I'll get back to this when I hurt less, and can think more clearly.

[Tee]

 

[Just Hatched]

Hello Jazzy 

I'm only part way through your journal so far, but wanted to comment on a few things I particularly relate to.

So, I read a couple of the other shorter journals here for the first time ever, and now I feel like I'm doing this all wrong... I'm not being emotional or connected enough, on and on, but I think it is just part of the shame that I feel in pretty much everything I do.

I have the same problem when comparing anything I do, with how others may do it. If I'm doing something different in any way, its wrong. For me, this goes right back to my childhood, when my controlling parents wanted everything done exactly as they would do it. The way you write is a perfect expression of your unique self, and I'm relating to much of what you write. So please keep going.

...On the other hand though, eating and sleeping are just basic requirements of life, and "doing them right" is something I imagine never even crosses a normal person's mind... so there's still a long way to go.

There was a time in my life when these basics rarely crossed my mind, but I was living unconsciously and dysfunctionally, they were part of my childhood programming. Since starting this healing journey, everything has been broken down, including sleeping and eating, along with everything most normal people don't think about. I think, being able to do the basics of life, consciously, mindfully is a step beyond doing them as part of an unconscious program, especially if other parts of that program contain harmful patterns. Taking care of ourselves with these healthy basics is an important foundation for the rest of our lives. I congratulate myself each day when I have taken care of myself in these simple ways.

So I guess this is where exposure therapy comes in to the picture. My psychiatrist seems to think that the answer is that simple. Afraid of going outside? Just go outside more.

Hmm! From my personal experience and understanding, psychiatrists are not very good at understanding people, or the conditions they diagnose and their treatments are generally drug based, although it wasn't always like this. I believe exposure therapy works best for simple phobias, certainly not CPTSD. It hasn't helped me at all, and in fact has made me worse at times, causing more stress and trauma at the re-exposure to multiple triggers.

Anyway, the whole point to this is that it isn't really about me going outside. Its about encountering another person. Sure, I get lonely and need companionship like anyone else, sometimes desperately so... but it turns out that my most common trigger is a person. Nothing specific at all, being human is enough. What brought this whole rant up is that I caught myself hiding today, because my neighbour walked past the window when I was in view of it. So, clearly I don't feel very safe, even in the house.

Boy, do I relate to this, and I have a similar issue with my neighbor, who is actually a very nice man who cuts my grass for me. I have new neighbors across the street now, a new house was built and its made life more complicated. I have to time going out, with when they are not outside, so I don't have to encounter them. It just feels so uncomfortable encountering other people, when there is even the slightest expectation of interaction. I don't understand this, but please know, you are not alone.

I'm going to continue reading your journal now, thank you for sharing your journey. 

[Jazzy]

Thank you again for the positive replies everyone. It has really helped me feel less alone, and more accepting of myself.



ThreeRoses: Sorry to hear we had similar backgrounds. I really wish no one else had to go through this sort of thing. I'm glad you survived and are here too. I guess we both got something right.



Tee: Its so horrible to go through losing someone like that at such a young age and being physically abused on top of it. I'm so sorry for your loss. I know I lost more than a sister, and you more than a friend. I'm doing my best to hold back a lot of hate, but is also so difficult coming from a minister. It really adds another whole dimension on top of it. I'm not sure the details of it, but my F went through schooling to be a minister, but wasn't fully licensed? Something like that. Anyway, I still really struggle with the split thing. Have you found any help or been able to make peace with it?



Hi Just Hatched! Thanks for reading through, and your reply. I would say you are right on all accounts. Thank you for the encouragement and insight. I don't like my psychiatrist very much, but  it is very difficult to get one here, and he signs the prescription and papers I need. He's also not the worst one in the area. =\ I hope things get better with your new neighbours. I have new neighbours too, that's why I was hiding. They've been here about a month but I haven't met them yet.

[Jazzy]

So, not as badly overwhelmed and hurting today. That's a good thing. I feel somewhat guilty for being selfish though, and writing all my stuff here. I feel like I have less compassion now, because I'm dealing with my own stuff. I wish I could handle more. Anyway, I think I need to give it time, and just do my best.

It's really hard to wait and let time take its course. I guess that's pretty common for us though.

[Three Roses]

I totally agree that it's difficult to wait. Makes me feel like 

[Phoebes]

Jazzy, I can so relate to most experiences you shared here here, and the ones that are different than mine, I can definitely understand. I feel so angry and sad for little Jazzy- that you weren't safe, ever. It's a hard pill to swallow when we start putting all these pieces together, isn't it? I'm sorry this is something you now have to deal with.

I'm sorry for the loss of your baby sister, and that you had no support over it. What is mind boggling is it seems your mom, although legitimately depressed, made it all about her. (I'm so well-familiar with this). How could it not occur to these mothers that their child has needs, has feelings, has memories? And then becoming so sadistic.

I don't know if this helps, but I've been kind of geeking out on youtube lectures of Bessel VanDerKolk and Gabor Mate, about the mind body connection, and the effects of trauma, and how to heal this or at least make it better..it's fascinating stuff, and brings to light why some of these things have affected me the way they have. It makes perfect sense and helps me feel more "normal".

Something interesting- I have been to many types of doctors, western and traditional, chiropractors, massage, acupuncture, orthopedic, herbs, meds, etc..for an ongoing long term neck and shoulder issue that was pretty intense. I thought I must have injured myself playing sports. As SOON, and I mean to the day, that I went NC with NM, it went away, never to return. I simply have no neck or shoulder issues anymore.