What I'm healing from **TW TW**

[Three Roses]

TW from here on.

I've wrestled with whether I wanted to write here about my background; what I'm healing from. I think I've realized that I need to talk about the abuse I went thru.

Part of my concern is that some readers may find it too much. Another concern is that some may feel invalidated. It's shocking, yes, but your stories are no less. And, I'm a little worried that some of you will think it's a product of my imagination. I've been accused of that before, as many of us have. In my head I know better than to suspect that of anyone here, but my heart still is wary.

The rest of my journal will contain details but I'll try not to be too graphic. The subject matter may contain (highlight for detail)extreme violence, including childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse and neglect; rape; and an event I can only describe here as attempted sex trafficking.

So here goes.

I was the second born child to a couple who lived the realities of WWII. My M was married before to her school sweetheart who came home profoundly changed by war. He went out drinking, and would come home and hit her. She grew tired of this treatment and, at their last encounter, defended herself to the point of bloodying him and escaped to her mom and step dad. He tracked her down but her stepfather, himself a large man and decorated WWI hero, protected her and told him to leave and never come back. A few years later she married my father, another man who was never the same after his service to his country.

I'll stop here for a page break.

[sanmagic7]

sending you a warm hug filled with courage and love.          i'm listening and i don't doubt you for a moment.

[Dee]

I understand your concern.  I don't feel invalidated at all.  Trauma is not a competition.  It is all hurtful and significant to the person.  I never compare my story to other's and I too have held back some, not to the extent you have.  However, knowing a little more, I feel solidarity. 

Talk...get it out, do what you need to do to relieve the burden.  It's like being unable to breathe and hauling a bolder around with you every where you go.  Unload!

[Three Roses]

My F had been in the Navy in WWII. His ship was bombed and he was thrown into a steel bulkhead in the explosion. There was a heap of life jackets there that wasn't usually there; if it weren't for those, he may have died in the concussion as they softened his impact with the bulkhead. He eventually lost his hearing as a result of this.

He told us war stories about his experiences and other events; and now that I'm an adult I can plainly see that he must have had PTSD and almost certainly a traumatic brain injury from that explosion.

My sibling was born four and a half years before me. Mom wanted babies desperately but had a couple of miscarriages, one before my brother. She injured herself during the pregnancy with my sibling, and was given medication for pain. This, coupled with a difficult breech delivery, was what she thought caused the differences in him. He was slow to develop, slow to learn, quick to lose his temper. He looked different than other babies, through the eyes - maybe a little impish. She adored him immediately.

When I came along, a nurse came out to the waiting room and announced to my F that he had a daughter. He told her that he hadn't wanted a girl, and that the nurse should put me back. I heard this story all during my childhood; he found the nurse's disgusted reaction hysterically funny.

And now, looking back, I can see that he was making a joke to try to handle his intense emotions and how pleased he was. But little girls don't know about that stuff, and so I always felt he thought that I should have been another boy. Maybe, a son that wasn't...different.

I'll stop here for now.

[sanmagic7]

i hear you, 3roses.  when i was born, they used a forceps to pull me out of my mother.  a part of it cut the corner of my eye - i still have the scar.  while i was growing up, i heard over and over that i was the ugliest baby my dad had ever seen.  yes indeed, a little girl doesn't do anything with those 'jokes' except take them to her heart.  i spent a lifetime trying to feel beautiful, and tho there were many men, only one knew how to actually accomplish that.  i am forever grateful to him.

i admire your courage, 3roses, for bringing this out into the light.  i certainly hope it helps you.  your own pace, your own space.  no judgment.  only love and care.  you're not alone, sweetie.

[AphoticAtramentous]

Just want to say I'm listening Three Roses.  I believe you.

[Lingurine]

Three Roses, it's so good to see you trusting yourself enough to open up.
I'm here too.



Lingurine

[Blueberry]

Me too, I'm reading. And I believe you. 

I understand the fear of not being believed, because I have it too. But nonetheless I think to myself "Why wouldn't any of this that Three Roses is writing be believable? You're not writing that you were kidnapped by Martians after all.

And those 'jokes' putting down their little daughters to cover their own emotions... Heard them too. I feel for you.

I'm glad you're getting this down on 'paper' and partially out of your system at any rate.

[Sceal]

Just want to say that I think it is a brave thing you are doing by writing your experiences down.  I hope that sharing your story,  or parts of it, will help you towards better days.

[Blueberry]

I understand your concern.  I don't feel invalidated at all.  Trauma is not a competition.  It is all hurtful and significant to the person.  I never compare my story to other's and I too have held back some, not to the extent you have.  However, knowing a little more, I feel solidarity. 

Talk...get it out, do what you need to do to relieve the burden.  It's like being unable to breathe and hauling a bolder around with you every where you go.  Unload!

Wise words from you, Dee! Thank you.

[Elphanigh]

Three Roses, I am proud of you for starting to write some of your experiences down. I understand you concern to invalidate people, because I too have had that struggle. Actually have watched it happen. This forum is a safe place though, and your story deserves to be told. I will be here to listen, and reassure you that I believe you. Warm, safe hugs if you want them  there are some for little three roses too if she needs them after all of that

[Three Roses]

My brother never liked me. He was four and a half when I was born, and very attached to his mom. To this day, I have a hard time calling him brother. He is nothing like the definition of a brother. Even the word "brother" is a trigger for me now. I think of him as my sibling, my mother's other child.

I don't know how much detail to give, I don't want to trigger anyone, but part of me really wants to talk about all the details of all the things that he did to me. The physical abuse. The rejection. Later, the sexual abuse. The rape attempt. The attempt to trade me in a human trafficking kind of way. But I suppose that's enough detail for you to understand.

And perversely, there were good times, too. We laughed, we shared jokes, like siblings do. But underneath there was always a current of... Something, something that my little mind didn't have a word for but my adult mind knows is jealousy, bitterness, resentment. That ran very, very deep in him.

And, his rage was not only directed at me. He had many run-ins with other children and some adults. We were born in the 1950s, and I don't know what the thinking was back then, but my parents never attempted to obtain a diagnosis for him, to my knowledge.

And so this little female baby was born into a family that already had more than its share of problems. A father with a traumatic brain injury and PTSD. A mother who been physically abused by her first husband and probably carried the emotional scars of that into her current marriage, coupled with the pain of two miscarriages. An older sibling with enough of his own challenges, but then who also had to deal with our dad who would lose his temper at literally the drop of a hat.

[Elphanigh]

I wish I could reach out and comfort little you. Being born into that left you no real chance for a normal upbringing. I am sitting here with you for whatever you need. As far as detail, go into whatever you need to Three Roses. Goodness knows several of us have put some detail into our journals. It is a safe place to put a certain extent of details, as it is your journal. Trigger warning of course, but you know that.

Warm, safe hugs if you want them. Sitting with you always if you need someone

[Three Roses]

I am seeing more and more clearly now in just what ways I'm different than people who've never been abused.

My reactions can be sudden, intense, and I blurt things out without thinking how they'll sound - almost like someone else is saying it but using my voice. These days I think it really has been someone else.

I worry obsessively all the time if I've hurt people, I go back and forth from not ever saying anything of any substance to telling myself I need to be honest, and I wind up offending someone without wanting or meaning to.

I'm so tired of this b.s. 

[Three Roses]

TW

I was going thru some photos and came across a picture of my dad. He is grinning ear to ear, looking back at the camera over his left shoulder. He and mom were on a cruise and it looks like he is dancing to a marimba or steel drum band. I can't remember another time when I've seen him look so carefree. He would have been in his sixties, I think - around the same age I am now.

And when I looked at him, I didn't think "This is my father"; I didn't think he looked like he was happy; I didn't feel anger, or sadness; I didn't call him a name in my head.  The only thing I thought was, This is a man who beats children, this is a grown man who would punch a child in the face. His own daughter.

And for the first time ever, I think, I caught a brief glimpse of just how seriously * up that is. I stared at that picture for a while, and just let the realness, the truth of what I was feeling spread all through me; like little drops of dye in a glass of water, swirling around until everything is blended and changed.