WF's journal {I have a potty mouth}

[Dutch Uncle]

Yay! 

[Kizzie]

"No more self-punishment!"     A great mantra for all of us   

[Dutch Uncle]

I have decided that, from this day forward, I am going to try to be cheerful out of spite. So there.   
[...]
So far, being cheerful has worked, even though at times I've had to do it to spite my IC. Seriously, though, screw that guy.

I have this song stuck in my head for days now.
And I have a hunch your post has triggered it. For the better, yay!

Big Time Sensuality - Björk
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkSFa0v_XLo
lyrics in the video

I hope you'll like it, and you can sing it to your IC. Yes, out of spite if need be. 

[Widdiful Falling]

What a lovely song. I found a live version, too, that was more subdued, and it's amazing how well it works both ways. I was having a down day today, but I feel more determined now.

"It takes courage, to enjoy it"

It takes a great deal of courage for me to get out of my head. Or let myself feel. And to interact with other people takes a lot out of me. But I always enjoy myself, if I want to.

"I don't know my future after this weekend
And I don't want to"

If I knew my future, it would only be one more thing to let go of, that I can't change. I'm with Bjork. I'll take the present, thanks very much.

I have been reading a lot of philosophy lately, and more specifically, philosophical stances on death. Wittgenstein said death is not an experience in life. Therefore, there's no point in fearing death. In the same vein, the future is not an experience in life. Therefore, there's no point in fearing for the future. Living in the present is the best and most fulfilling kind of life. If you live only in your head, all you will know is the inside of your head. But living in the present allows you to experience so much more. I want to be better at mindfulness. I want to never again feel the urge to retreat into my head. I wish it wasn't so hard, but I will practice, and get better, and in time it will get easier. 

[Widdiful Falling]

I found an old post by Sandals that I really relate to: http://outofthefog.net/C-PTSD/forum/index.php?topic=561.0

My M physically abused me a lot, but it has taken me a very long time to come to terms with even using the word abuse to describe what happened to me. I've compartmentalized the physical abuse I went through until it feels like it happened to someone else.

{There are definite triggers below.}

The flyswatter was a big one. When I got older, I learned to dissociate from the pain, but when my M beat me, she would keep going until she got a reaction. A couple times, I refused to give her one for so long, she broke the flyswatter on me, and gave up using it. She continued to beat me with her hands, but I still count it as a small victory. She would also whip me with belts, which left welts, but at least they didn't have fly guts still sticking to them.

My M threw things at me constantly. Her shoe, the phone, whatever was nearby. Once, she threw the remote control at my face so hard she broke my nose. I sat there for a while, in front of my siblings, bleeding quite profusely, before I came to my senses and cleaned myself up. My M just told me she didn't mean to hit my face, and that I should get over myself, and not talk while she was on the phone. My nose was never looked at by a doctor.

My M used to sit on me to make me stay still while she punched me, or to crush me. Once, when she was ranting about how much she hated me,and wanted to kill me, I told her she may as well go and do it then, since it's what she wants. She sat on me, and crushed me until I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die.

Once, I tried to talk to my M while she was eating before work. She was enraged by whatever I was saying, and freaked out about how I wasn't letting her eat. As she stormed out of the door, she spat her half-chewed food in my face. This was when I realized she didn't love me.

If my M felt too much like outright murdering me at the time of my offense, she would wait until she had cooled down a bit to beat me. Sometimes, this wasn't until after I was asleep. I learned to sleep lightly, so I could hear her coming. My reaction to being woken suddenly is still very violent.

If my M found a paper on the floor of my room, or something I wrote that she didn't like, she would ball it up, and try to cram it into my mouth to make me eat it.

I've had boiling hot water poured on me multiple times. The water wasn't purposeful, it was just in whatever container my M decided to smack me in the head with. The coffee pot, her mug, or saucepans.

My M would whack all of us on the head with the hairbrush if we moved while she was brushing our hair. I was dragged around by the hair more than once. Once I turned 18, and I had a choice, I cut my hair short.

Pretty much anything was fair game, as long as it didn't leave a mark. I'm an old pro at taking punches, as you learn quickly once you've been horribly winded and defenseless a few times. I knew it was time to get out of the house once my M left me with bruises on my face because the principal at school had told her she could use any means she wanted to punish me for being "out of control." (I had stayed over at a friend's house an extra night.) Someone would have been seriously injured if I had stayed, and I'm not sure whether it would have been myself, or M.

I still feel numb writing this, but a few weeks ago, I had a good, angry crying session over the injustice of it all. What kind of monster does things like that to a little kid? Or a big kid? Or a human?

I get the shakes when I talk about this.

[Kizzie]

I have no words Widdiful, just lots and lots of