TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #15 on: June 28, 2020, 06:11:16 PM »
So, I wrote a long ranting post. It made me feel very uncomfortable, and somehow vulnerable, so I deleted it right away.

It's easier to explain how I feel by sharing stories rather than feelings. And although it had stories, they were just snippets, which makes me feel dishonest or misleading.... And being told that I am lying is something that has happened a lot in my life, that's maybe one reason why I tend to over explain. ...Which also comes across as rehearsed, AKA lying. There is no winning. This is another reason why I wonder if I am autistic like my brother. Too much eye contact, too little, too much emotion, not enough, not looking at people's faces, wringing my hands, crossing my arms... I don't know how to convey honesty, or anything else to people, so I focus on articulating myself properly... Which, as I explained, is a loss... Then everyone will only try to interpret my words with emotion rather than the actual literal meaning behind the words. ...

Anyway, I deleted the post. It made me feel ill.

I still cannot access my memories. Which is fine. Somehow I feel oddly obligated to write something, so I'm rambling words out into the void.

A story, which is too complicated to share all the details of, which relates to my feeling of inability to express myself.

I was kicked out of home as a teenager. My mother was controlling and manipulative. She had told me my whole life that she would kick me out, so I was prepared for it. When it happened, I left, emotionless, cold, unmoved. That was not my mother's plan, she wanted proof that I NEEDED her. She needed that power over me. She wanted me to beg.

I lived on the streets, which was amazing. Eye-opening, freeing, the best time I had had in my life. I met people, other homeless kids, we looked after each other. Someone I met wanted to see where I had lived, we went by my old house, with no intention of stopping by.

I had been homeless less than a month. The house was empty, a for sale sign out front. I later found out they had moved to another country.

Meanwhile, harassment. This is really it's own topic, there were some truly horrific things that happened... But there was a lie about me, and a private investigator looking for me. I couldn't have any normal life, a home, a job, for fear I would be found. I feared for my life.

My mother had me listed as an underage missing person, I was not underage. She started a FB campaign phishing for information on me, and a YT channel as well. All with this lie that I had been a runaway, and that she feared I could be in danger. Any time I applied for a job, this came up.

I have spoken to lawyers, and reported the content, but I can't get it removed. Lawyers won't work on the international case because of the specific country they were in.

The point of the story, my mother posted a video around Christmas, and my husband and I saw it. In short, it said my father had died.

We went on, I didn't cry, I felt like I was supposed to, but I didn't. I felt weird to bring it up to anyone. How does anyone just interject such a thing in conversation, especially if they're not mourning? So, the next day we went to his family's for the holiday weeks, and it was never mentioned. No one knows, no friends, no one.

My father is dead.

**[Edit] That ending sounded dramatic. I'm not saying this for attention, not that I think that seeking attention is bad either. I also think I may sound sociopathic, and I'm not. I feel a lot of things, but sympathy for *them* is not one of those things. I'm writing it, because I feel the urge to exist. I want my story to exist.
« Last Edit: June 28, 2020, 06:57:10 PM by Bermuda »

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owl25

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #16 on: June 28, 2020, 07:58:23 PM »
It was shocking to read your parents had moved to another country, when you went by to see your home. It was bad enough your mother threw you out. But that on top of it, that's just adding additional abandonment on top of all the other trauma.

I'm sorry for the loss of your father. For the father he never was and should have been. This stuff is really tough.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #17 on: June 28, 2020, 09:17:50 PM »
Thanks for replying owl25. It feels good to know that someone knows, and that someone read my words. I just want to tell you that I have also read yours. I didn't comment because it was too hard for me to find words. It must be hard for you right now, and I hope my story wasn't triggering. I hadn't considered that before posting. I don't want to project my feelings onto you, but I agree.

The loss of the parents I never had is something I mourned while they were both still living, and something I will probably mourne every holiday, every family themed commercial, or major milestone in my life that I achieve alone, despite them.

...But maybe death can be closure. It is truly over, and they have lost. Their power is gone, their money, their leverage.

CPTSD is all ghosts.

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buddy9832

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #18 on: June 28, 2020, 10:05:26 PM »
Quote
Edit] That ending sounded dramatic. I'm not saying this for attention, not that I think that seeking attention is bad either. I also think I may sound sociopathic, and I'm not. I feel a lot of things, but sympathy for *them* is not one of those things. I'm writing it, because I feel the urge to exist. I want my story to exist.

 Bermuda, thank you for sharing your story. Iím sorry you had to go through that. Iím sorry you were abandoned but as youí suggested it sounds like it was for the best.

I donít think you sound sociopathic at all. I can relate. When I initially started therapy, I thought I was a sociopath. I was devoid of emotion.  No joy, no happiness, maybe anger but mostly complete apathy. I always found it disturbing. During my childhood a lot of people in my family died. Not once had I shed a tear. Even for my own grandmother and grandfather whom I was close.

Even in the moment I found it odd but I could never let the sadness come in. I know itís a slightly different circumstance  but I guess what Iím trying to say is I understand the feeling.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #19 on: June 29, 2020, 05:29:17 AM »
Thank you Buddy9832. I also went through that phase too. For me, I think it was actually a deep dark long term depression. My emotionlessness was just desperateness, grabbing at anything trying to get myself out of the dark hole. Perhaps it looked like sociopathy at the time. For me it changed when I *finally* got a break of luck and my life stabilised.

It's only these topics, these things are unmoving. I can't live a normal life and give power to them, to that.

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owl25

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #20 on: June 29, 2020, 10:21:06 PM »
It's ok you didn't reply - we do what we can at any given moment. There are enough members here for someone to respond to any given post. Your story wasn't triggering to me, so don't worry about that. CPTSD is indeed all ghosts. We need to transform them somehow, I think by grieving the past, and somehow building up a better life now.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #21 on: July 01, 2020, 08:44:25 PM »
I am exhausted.

I say that a lot. My son was born two months early, so we lived in the hospital together for a while. Everytime a nurse came by and asked how I was, I replied with, "Exhausted." They always gave me sceptical typical German look of "Oh, c'mon!" and wrote it down in their notes as if to warn the head doctor that I may have post natale depression. What a bother. I didn't then, nor do I now.

I'm just exhausted. Life is exhausting. Motherhood is exhausting.

I'm exhausted.

I still don't have access to my memories, and it's becoming uncomfortable. I don't think I've ever had an amnesia cycle (just made that term up) that has lasted this long before. It's uncomfortable.

I wrote in another thread about being inconsistent. I am so inconsistent. I have this feeling like I am surfing a wave. When my body and mind are cooperating, I'm like wonder woman. I *know* not to take any moment for granted. I am able to accomplish anything and everything... And then, crash. So quickly as the momentum built, it ceases, and it's like being thrown forward off a surfboard that's crashed into a rock. My body hurts, locks up, I get sick, and I get tired. All in very real ways that seem random. It could be a spider bite that turns into a massive blood infection, a cold that turns to pneumonia, unexplainable arthritis that leaves me unable to bend my leg, oh, and my personal fave, bleeding intestines. Always the bleeding intestines.

Sarcasm helps me cope.

I'm crashing. Things were going so well, and my body is crashing. I can feel it. My hands and feet start getting pins and needles in midstep, and I get stomach cramps.

And I'm exhausted.

The worst part is when you always have something wrong with you (c-PTSD, autoimmune disease), no one is there for you when you are unwell. Maybe the first time, or even the tenth time, but not when it's persistent. Love really is conditional.

I only lived in the hospital a month, and if the nurses were not required to ask, I'm certain at some point they would have just stopped.

No one wants to feel burdened by the feelings of others.

I have no memory. I feel concerned about it. I also feel sick to my stomach, and exhausted.

So there.
« Last Edit: July 01, 2020, 08:49:32 PM by Bermuda »

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notalone

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #22 on: July 02, 2020, 12:34:47 AM »
Taking care of young (or any age) children is exhausting. They need you constantly. Add to that the physical issues you are dealing with and cptsd . . . wow. That is so much that you are carrying.

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buddy9832

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #23 on: July 02, 2020, 01:42:20 AM »
 :yeahthat:

Diddo! I can sympathize and I feel your pain, child care can be beyond exhausting. I have a 2.5 year old who is wonderful but always testing the waters and a 5 month old. Itís perpetually tiring. Iím sure you are doing the same thing, just trying so hard for them not to have the life that I had.

I can also relate to the riding the wave though usually I donít get an physical ailments. Itís definitely cyclical though I canít predict it. There are highs wheee everything seems in sync and then the crash.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #24 on: July 06, 2020, 09:20:06 PM »
TW despair: I have so many feelings. I don't know how to articulate them. I don't know if I could say things balanced, because I don't want to try to just 'get my point across', I don't have a point. I would want be fair to the situation. So, I can't talk about it, because I can't do that. I cannot be fair.

I am confused. I don't know what to do. I don't know if everything is my fault or not. Sometimes I wish I could erase myself, not death, but really erase that I existed.

I feel trapped. I always feel trapped. I feel small.

Sometimes I lay in the dark on the cold closet floor and imagine that that's it. There is no me in the world, no eyes to see through, and world never saw me.

I know I am fine, everything is fine, but I don't know when everything isn't fine.

I'm not meaning to sound cryptic like an angsty teen. I'm not eluding to anything either. I am just confused, and probably unwell.

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owl25

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #25 on: July 06, 2020, 11:40:41 PM »
I can without a doubt say that everything isn't your fault. Feeling like it all is is part and parcel of CPTSD. We blame ourselves because if we're at fault, that means we can change things.  I'm sorry for what you are experiencing right now. I think many of us here have experienced similar feelings. It sounds like you are feeling really overwhelmed. Do you by chance have a therapist to talk to?

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #26 on: July 07, 2020, 08:41:28 AM »
I found trauma therapy compounded my issues. My therapist made me feel lots of things, but better was not one of them.

Judged.

This weird feeling that she was projecting, and trying to make my symptoms fit an existing profile. ...Her pressing assumption that I have outbursts of rage really got to me, since in reality I have trouble being angry, ever. It causes me real issues navigating the adult world.

Unsafe.

Self-doubt.

Cynical. My therapist was always focused on my feet being firmly on a pillow on the ground. (I'm petite, my feet don't touch the ground while seated.) She had Buddhist paraphernalia, and a 'calming' fountain.

She always made me remove my shoes, sit, and wait for her. I paid her 50EUR an hour, to wait for her to have time to make sure I am sitting properly...

She never asked anything directly, aside from how my week had been, and therefore she actually never knew anything about me. I think she couldn't be bothered, and found it easier just to collect money and leave me in a wreck.

...

So, now I'm in a new country, and must get a referral from a general practitioner first, but first I have to get a general practitioner. I'm interested in EMDR, but am a 33 year old wife, and a mother of a young child, and a full time university student. I don't have a year of my life to dedicate to 'recovery'.

Without me, no one eats.

And like most CPTSD liver-withers, there is no support system. Any support my husband had wore off at least five years ago.

So, I live secretly trapped on the inside while my physical self is trapped on the outside, albeit differently.

My therapist didn't like me to speak of my brain and body as if they were separate entities. *Add that to my list of complexes.
« Last Edit: July 07, 2020, 08:49:58 AM by Bermuda »

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rainydiary

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #27 on: July 07, 2020, 01:17:16 PM »
I appreciate you sharing these thoughts - the list of words you shared about your experiences with therapy resonate with me.  I found therapy to make me feel worse too especially for the amount of money I was paying.  Also they just became another voice in my head putting pressure on me that I didnít need.  I think it is ok for that to but be a good fit for us all.

I appreciate all that you are doing for yourself and for your family. 

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buddy9832

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #28 on: July 07, 2020, 01:52:37 PM »
Thatís tough Bermuda. Iíve had issues with therapists in the past as well. Similar to you, part of it was a trust issue, he didnít make me feel comfortable. I felt like the T was just trying to earn a paycheck and wasnít vested in helping me heal.

I expressed these concerns to my psychiatrist who I built trust with. She was able to find a T that met my needs. I hope you can find one that will be a good fit but I certainly understand itís difficult spot to be in. Itís tough essentially putting your healing on the line in hopes of finding a T that is a good fit.

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Bermuda

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Re: TW: Bermuda's journal of memories.
« Reply #29 on: September 17, 2020, 09:12:13 AM »
It's been a while, I know. I am so busy. I am currently in University studying International Human Rights Law. I'm on break now from a lecture discussing statelessness.

I broke down. Of course, we talk about a lot of very sensitive topics, and a lot of us studying are people they hit very close to home with, that being said...

It hurts, and I feel ashamed that people can read my upsettedness. It's difficult to be human, and be objective.