Through the Looking Glass to Trigger Town: mftb's Recovery Journal V.1.0

[movementforthebetter]

Hi woodsgnome, thanks for your comment. It's reassuring, I guess, to know I'm not alone with that. But sorry that you were in situations that necessitated that kind of coping.

For what it's worth, I did improv myself for a year or so in my early 20s. I also found it a good way to get out of my shell and push my limits.

[movementforthebetter]

Oops, I went a day without writing. Technically. General trigger warning on this post for inner critic talk.





Had job training and came home from the friend's place today, more training tomorrow. Had dinner with exbf and a friend of his.

Feeling too wide awake, distracted myself with outside things. Tv an internet.

Like I didn't have enough sadness and hurt at the moment, I sleuthed out exlover's online dating profile. Ugh. I still miss him. My mind turns to him so often... Why? I was walking this week and was almost crying. I sat on a bench by the water and typed out a letter to him that I don't think I'll send. I might post it in letters of recovery - I've never written one before, and writting this just happened spontaneously. I can't be in love with him. It's like he's a pack of cigarettes and I'm having a nic fit. I think. I don't smoke. But I imagine it's similar... The itch that demands scratching. He does a good job coming across as mostly normal, but the chips on his shoulders are visible to women that are sensitive to such things. If anything, he comes across a bit arrogant & trying too hard. Apparently that's a type I go for. And still I miss him. Still rebounding, still naiive to think there's anything worth the trouble with him that I couldn't find in a more empathic person.

Soon I hope to be too busy to care much any more. One last week of idleness. Then it's time to get settled at the new job. The hours are ideal for me to avoid one of my major triggers, but the job itself will force me to face several major fears with regularity.

I've been shutting down my inner crittic but it's been coming out in other ways. I picked a lot today. I've stayed up too late when I have to be up early. I didn't walk enough or do yoga. I hurt myself looking at that profile. I think a lot of this is in reaction to my fears about my job. I am afraid that I won't be able to perform well enough or consistently enough or that my depression or perfectionism will impact my performance. I have always had horrible Impostor Syndrome. I am afraid they will decide I was a mistake and fire me.

For a second there it was "...decide I was a mistake the same way my mother made me feel" but I know those are separate things. I had a painful moment. A few tears. I worked hard and am on the doorstep of something that could be quite rewarding. I guess I am afraid because I don't know what that feels like - stability, independence, commitment. Good things feel "bad" to me sometimes. Maybe more than sometimes. I'm so scared. I have been meaning to brush up my skills a bit, but have procrastinated so far. One week left to do that. Would be worth it.

This is the reminder because I feel otherwise. I am worth it. I am worth the time I invest to improve in the skills that make me better at my job. I am worth the consistency of improvement that comes with practice. I don't think my parents ever said that to me when I was in piano lessons, instead they fought while I tried to practice. No wonder I quit so often.

But this is now. I can choose differently. I don't have to do the same things I did in the past. I am worth the commitment to myself, and I am worth recommitting every day that I need it.

[woodsgnome]

"...this is now. I can choose differently." Definitely. Plus commitment to self; and then, equally important--re-commitment. I have journals filled with self-talk but the follow-through, commitment parts were extremely rough and hard to maintain. It helped me, if I could, to step out of feeling that it all had to be perfect.  I'd forget or ignore one huge commitment--to relax, as best I could (also...sigh...and oddly...difficult).

Perfectionism is one of my Inner Critic's favourite doors and when it opens, I'm doomed. It's drawn to the tension, it seems. So one can also choose to relax into the flow. It's something I found, forgot, and dearly miss--a trait I also learned via my improv theatre years--that ability to relax but still be fully engaged. When I had that, it seemed almost more perfect on the other side. Commit, re-commit, relax was my 3-part mantra.

Best to you 

[movementforthebetter]

"Commit, re-commit, relax"

Thank you. This is very comforting and I really appreciate it.

[movementforthebetter]

So I think compassion for my inner critic has been distracting me from compassion for my self, if that makes sense. In any case it hasn't been working. In another thread I was thinking of it as part of me, so I couldn't have compassion for ME without compassion for IT. This was erroneous. This gave it a chance to devalue me.

I was looking at the critic as part of me because I can't remember a non-drug-induced time without it. And that was a big part of the problem. Because the critic is not a part of me.

It's a construct that came into being for protection when I was too young to know other ways. This means I can dismantle it. Or ignore it safely.

This also means I am still a whole person without it. It's just a gremlin on my shoulder, not in me, just riding me, whispering in my ear. Instead of listening or "being compassionate" to it, I am going to change it up, and flick it away like the nuisance it is.

Compassion for me is compassion for the tender bits, the wounded bits, the childish and child-like bits, and the rough edges. It's remembering that I am beautiful inside and out, worn, cracked, and weathered.

Compassion is putting pencil to paper. It's studying. It's excercise and self care. It's not foreign or abstract. It's actions I can take every day that make a space within me for self-love to grow. It's completing as many actions as possible each day without expectation of perfection.

I can do that. Commit, re-commit, relax. This is starting to make more sense.

[movementforthebetter]

TRIGGERS in this post for child abuse and tickling/touching.



I've been thinking about healing touch a lot lately. I must have been so neglected once my brother was born, and I was still a baby myself. I wish I had a source of it other than massage or romance. When I was young friends used to play with my hair. That sort of thing. Intimacy without expectation.

When I was a child, I was held down and tickled until I was laughing but crying "stop, stop".  It was torture for me, yet I can't remember who did it when I was young. One of the rapist exes used to do it to me, too. It ruined many aspects of touch for me. If someone brushes against me now my skin crawls and I cringe. I can't tolerate the softest touches. For the entirety of our relationship I tried to get exbf to understand that I needed to be caressed with an open palm only, and never in some highly sensitive areas. And he would never remember, instead trailing his fingertips right over the most ticklish spots, making me jump out of my skin. So it got to the point that I would cringe when he touched me at all. I couldn't even get my most basic physical needs met in 9 years of trying. That was how our relationship played out, in so many ways.

Still thinking of ex-lover. I don't like how it ended, so abruptly and with harsh words from both of us. I want kinder closure. It's only been a few weeks but today I almost texted him to ask if he'd talk to me so we could do better by each other, then let the chips fall where they may. But I didn't do it. I decided to wait longer before doing it, until I've finished The Body Keeps The Score, at least. Is this a bad idea, or the worst idea? He was in my past, and he is again in my past. But still present in my mind, though thankfully with less intensity.

Am just about to go to sleep. Training myself to wake earlier in prep for work. Am actually tired so grateful for that.

Goodnight, OOTS.

[Wife#2]

Still thinking of ex-lover. I don't like how it ended, so abruptly and with harsh words from both of us. I want kinder closure. It's only been a few weeks but today I almost texted him to ask if he'd talk to me so we could do better by each other, then let the chips fall where they may. But I didn't do it. I decided to wait longer before doing it, until I've finished The Body Keeps The Score, at least. Is this a bad idea, or the worst idea? He was in my past, and he is again in my past. But still present in my mind, though thankfully with less intensity.

Oh, mftb, I wish a lot of my earlier relationships could have ended better, with healthier closure. But, that is trying to control the end and we have no control over those things. I understand. I've sat and thought or even written what I wish had been said by both of us instead of how the breakup came to be final. It was meant to end the way it ended. Because of the unique combination of people it could be no other way, really.

It's perhaps time to mourn the relationship, what could have been and what you wished had been. Take the time to forgive yourself for whatever you may have contributed to the 'failure' of the relationship. Forgive him for not being capable of being the man you needed him to be. In your own mind and heart, this is stuff to keep to yourself. Maybe after mourning you will be able to see that it was a bad match, not really healthy for either of you.

Please resist the urge to contact him again, though. I know it can be overwhelming. I once ended up in front of the ex-boyfriend's house before I realized I was headed there. Thankfully, he wasn't home. I just drove home, cried and wrote pages in my journal. After that, I was able to start the process of moving on. I hope the same can be true for you, without trying to 'fix' the ending.  HUGS to you!

[movementforthebetter]

Thank you, wife#2. I'm afraid this is the start of a sad pattern that I recognize. It happened with my cheater narc ex as well. I fell so hard for him, and became stuck on him for years. Just when I thought I was over him, he'd pop up to make sure I hadn't forgotten him. I now see that as part of a cycle of abuse. He'd string me along, make sure I was hooked, then say something awful to me to "put me in my place". Somehow ex-lover turned out to be the same. It's so disappointing. It shows me I am still prone to fall for abusive men and not recognize it until I am attached. But so far I have broken free of the pattern and not fallen back in. I need to keep up that good work. I think being honest about my feelings helps.

Looking at it more, it wasn't just possibilities I saw with him. He shared my dreams, and I attached to that aspect of him fully. He was familliar, and I mistakenly felt "secure" with him, thinking he was safe.

I have been on the other side of the coin, too, thinking I should delete his texts and photos from my phone and block his number. Of course, then I have to look at his face and more again. So I've been avoiding action on all fronts.

On top of everything, am still coexisting with exbf as we try our best to give eachother space but still live our lives.

I am very sad and very tired today. I managed to get up, have breakfast, shower and get dressed but now I want to sleep again. I have been meaning to check out neighbourhoods I might want to live in. Might still do that. It would get me outside at least.

Thank you again for your support. I can't explain why this transition to being alone is so fraught for me, it just is. I'm glad that I can talk about it honestly here.

[movementforthebetter]

TRIGGERS in this post for child sexual assault, sexual harrassment and weight, eating disorders/body image.


Tomorrow I start my child sexual assault survivor group therapy. Today I guess I feel numb. I have been zoning out a lot - escaping in sleep or video games. A few things have been making me think.

I was working for a while to "get healthy" but I've realized I am afraid to lose weight because of the negative attention that comes with it. So I've been more active, but then I'll eat a pint of ice cream, ensuring nothing changes. Classic self sabbotage. I hope I can learn to feel safevin my own skin one day.

I am a chesty woman, even when "thin". (Which has not been for years.) I get cat-called on the street, I've had men that just met me comment on my breasts and ask about them, make lewd gestures, and I am incredibly self-conscious. I realised it's just "easier" to bulk up and be fat and invisible than to be attractive.

The Body Keeps The Score talks about molested girls reaching sexual maturity faster. That wasn't my experience, exactly.  I had boys interested in me starting at age 12 or 13... I remember surreptitious make-outs in school yards or forests. One boy said I was too flat-chested. I couldn't help that. I didn't really start to develop until I was 14, around when I started earing alone, and also gaining weight. I got my period when I was 15, very late by most standards. But puberty did happen, and it turned out that I developed very large breasts which I have since been trying to camoflauge, flatten, secure, contain and hide since. I think my poor posture is partly because of them - I am too conscious of movement and attention and try to minimize it. I do get some back, neck and shoulder pain from them. But apparently poor posture is tied to child abuse and molestation, too.

I got cruel comments about my weight from guys and supposed friends, so being fat hasn't really made lige easier. "How long have you been carrying the rolls for?" and "You'd be really pretty if you were thin." in particular stand out in my memory. And when I say "fat", I guess I mean top-end overweight. Some people would try to say I'm not fat, but I don't see it that way. I've always felt fat, even when I weighed 30lbs less.

But I do like feeling healthier. I like having more stamina. I like looking good for me, and I like being able to buy clothes off the rack. I don't want to end up morbidly obese like my M, who seems to have torally given up.

I hope through this group that I can regain some more power in my life and control over my choices. We will see what happens.

[movementforthebetter]

Ok, for whatever reason, today is a much better day. First in a while. I'll take it. I've done yoga two days in a row. Might get back to walking. Group tonight. I think perhaps I was stuck in a bad EF from reading The Body Keeps The Score. In any case, feeling clearer and more content today.

[woodsgnome]

 

[movementforthebetter]

TRIGGERS in this post for child sexual abuse and sexual assault.





That emoticon sums up my day. I'm back to feeling triggered and agitated after Survivors Group tonight.

We agreed to confidentiality so I will only ever discuss my own experiences in the group, and nothing personal about anyone else's journey.

I just need to get this out of my system.
My T, same as for EMDR, runs this group. There's only 4 of us in it. I am the youngest, I think. Another woman is close to my age, and two are senior-ish. We shared our stories tonight. I went into the group thinking that I didn't really deserve to be there. I was minimizing my own experience. Apparently that's common. I guess that's somewhat reassuring. But after hearing everyone's stories, I realized that they had all tried to tell someone that they had been abused not long after it happened, and had all spoken to multiple people about it. They also all knew other women it had happened to.

Me? I am the only woman I can say for sure it's happened to amongst my friends and family. I had no one safe to tell, until I talked to my brother 4 months ago and discovered we share that abuse. I super-briefly told some friends just the barest details about 10 years ago, but totally minimized it then, too. Even tonight, just the sparsest descriptions, and completely glossed over the fact I was molested. That's literally all I said about it: "I was molested by a babysitter" and "I was left alone on a bus with a masturbating man and he followed me". I even justified the babysitter's abuse in the context of her almost certainly having been abused herself. I felt like I spoke the least. I felt isolated in my experience... The only one molested by a girl, the only one who didn't at least try to tell someone, the only one who didn't have a parent that could be trusted enough to provide the barest minimum of safety.

Something one of the group members said brought up a memory and I saw it in a new, horrible light. My first New Year's in this city, exbf and I went to a nightclub to party and ring it in. We did mdma so were high and out of it. We saw a young woman in a red dress go down on a guy right in public just off the dance floor. It wasn't even that dark there. She must have been way higher than me... Like incoherently high. We were shocked. Later, we noticed the same woman alone, looking depressed. The dude had split. Tonight I realized for the first time that I had witnessed a sexual assault, but I was too high and naiive to understand it or do anything to help. #@©% me. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it now, years later, but acknowledge it.

At the end of the session we visualized putting our worries in a box, but again that visualization fails me. The thoughts some so fast, an avalanche of images, memories, sensations. I had to just keep pulling myself back to the present.

So I feel alone and angry and guilty and ashamed and a little unsafe now. There was a middle-aged man walking behind me too close for a few blocks after the session and I thought of the masturbator. I got triggered into fear. It was just some dude having a smoke.

I scarfed down half a bag of gummy candies on the way home. The urge to eat was so strong. My stomach hurts. I'll try to pack something healthy and binge-proof for next week. My chest and jaw are tight. I suspect there will be a few more posts like this as I work through it.

Man, I was not kidding when I named this journal Through the Looking Glass to Trigger Town.

[sanmagic7]

 

[Wife#2]

 

[movementforthebetter]

Confusing dreams. I dreamt of an old friend I no longer talk to. I had found his online journal and was reading it. There were entries about me and how I had vanished from his life. He was upset. It was almost like we broke up but we weren't romantically involved. But he was someone I had felt safe talking to about pretty much anything. The entries were hard to read - I had to make the text bigger. Then suddenly I was at his place. He had a passageway to a secret beach. He and another woman had been sunbathing there. She may have been my mother. There was also a young boy who went to see him and as he climbed the stairs back up he hurt his ankle. I helped tend to him. If my old friend was present at that point he didn't recognise me.

I was also in a house in a major windstorm. My mother and someone else, maybe my step father, were sleeping in a room on the main floor. I was moving around the housebtrying to get a view of the house next door. It was old and abandoned, and the storm sermed set to destroy it. There was a stairwell almost seperate from the house in a wooden tower. A huge gust of wind made the whole thing move and almost fall. It was resting against the house and I was afraid it would fall on ours.

I saw orange clouds representing the wind. I got my camera to try to get a picture of the old house. I was creeping around, afraid and trying to not wake my family. I made it into one room and suddenly had a clear view into the dining room of the other house and saw a beautiful composition of old furniture in the dilapitated room. I tried to take a photo but when I held the camera up I could not focus because my own house was shaking in the wind. From there I tried to go outside and there was a younger boy I tried to catch up with. I wanted to talk to him but couldn't reach him. I thought he had been abused. I thought I may have abused him. I woke up before reaching him, before my family woke, and before the okd house collapsed.