TRIGGER WARNING.. about my life..

Started by lexx, October 24, 2017, 05:43:53 PM

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lexx

*TW violence, sexual situations*

Andy,

This was initially a reply to you.. Thank you for talking to me.. I think you probably get better than most people how hard it can be to take a life's experiences and try to "fit in".. For most of my life I managed, just the last while.. well things were retriggered, and suddenly I'm having a much harder time..
I ended up just typing everything that came to mind about my life just now.. I hope you don't mind this enormeous amount of text I'm about to copy/paste here.. I wish this had bever happened to any of us.. it feels wrong to say "thanks for letting me know I'm not alone" but it helps to be understood.. to connect.. to not feel so alien, maybe?
I'm not used to that, but thank you..
I was going to rewrite, clarify, etc. but no, I'm just going to post it as is..
I wrote it on a phone, with interruptions from family etc. so sorry if some of it isn't all super coherent.. it's a lot just to make a *list* never mind a logically ordered narrative.. it's basically me thinking out loud.. XD
I hope you get what I'm trying to get across anyway..

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TRIGGER WARNING..

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A lot of things happened, but my father murdered my mother when I was 4. There was always a lot of fighting.. he had a terrible temper, and he was definitely abusive.. He had old trauma of his own but ended up becoming an abuser.. of people.. of drugs.. In the end he couldn't accept she wanted to move on, and that she meant it. In this period several people died over a very short amount of time.. My twin sister.. and also my mother's brother, who in a flash of anger at a doctor flushed his meds down the toilet.. and actually really needed them.. He died in our shower.. My mom had had enough, and wanted to pull herself back together, without him. She filed for divorce and had to call the police several times because he'd break into the house.

She died not long after that.. after yet another fight.. He murdered her. He dropped my brother off with friends, and took me to his parents.. Not sure what he was thinking.. 

Her story ended up in the papers and such, but people only get a partial, srnsational, glimpse.. Seeing her picture is very difficult for me.. I look a lot like her..

His father was yet another abused abuser. They were Jehovah's Witnesses.. and while I won't go into what I think of them now, I will say that any religion that feels it's important to keep it's members away from anyone who can't be converted risks being a haven for peope such as my grandfather. He was an elder. Knowing others trusted him with their kids makes my hands and feet into icecubes. Right here as I write this.. I mean.. he died a few years ago, and it still has a physical effect on me.. I don't usually do physical sensations much. I have a high pain tolerance. The fact that I'm sitting here shivering and grabbing a blanket is very much not like "me"..

Knowing that they (Jehovah's Witness elders) seemed more upset with me going to the police (instead of to them) than with what happened to me makes me really really angry. These are people, making mistakes.. they are not every person in that religion, but it's not *them* that have to mop up the mess after,.. It's inexcusable to the children you put at risk.. and frankly inexcusable to me too. They saw me about four days out of each week. If they couldn't see what was happeningl honestly not see it, then they have no business making decisions about what person should and shouldn't be "working" with "young brothers and sisters".  My grandfather was absolutely able to charm people and put on a really good facade, but then, so can most like him.

Abusers keep their victims silent,.. it means they teach us to smile when we hurt and to lie when someone asks us if we're okay.. We are taught to isolate ourselves, and we are taught to lie for the benefit of another. It's not unusual for those in homes and foster care to lie.. it's not because the lines between reality and fantasy are blurry, it's because that's what we've been taught. It's not easy to let people closer again after.. So when you have a choice between hurting people's feelings and lying, or between a spotlight and going unnoticed.. it's a no brainer. Sorry, getting off track, but I ended up in homes and foster care, and people always seemed so stunned about kids lying. I lied about where I went (I used to hide out in libraries and books..) others lied about a lot else.. it's not a dissociation, it's a remnant behavior as surely as any other..

My father's mother wanted "a girl" bad enough she was willing to run and hide to keep me.. so when he showed up and dropped me in her lap she did everything she could to keep me and not let the court have me placed elsewhere..

Now that might *sound* like a great thing.. someone loving you enough to run and hide you.. but it wasn't about what was best for *me*.. (or she would have left her husband for one).. and the feeling you're not.. free.. is hard to describe.. not being able to go outside in case someone would come and get me... is it kidnapping? I don't know how to answer that, but I think there might be a gray area between what is and isn't kidnapping.. all I know is that everything changed. Everything what I was and wasn't allowed changed, but the way what wasn't allowed was communicated was *exactly* the same..

What I wanted most at this time was my BROTHER.. We're still busy healing the rift that was created. We were so close.. I remember feeling safe with him. Sneaking into his room at night and getting my butt busted.. now I was alone in a bedroom until my grandfather came up the stairs. I'd listen to the creak. I could actually tell people apart from the sound the stairs made..

In the end the court decided that after all the things that'd happened, the best thing might be to leave my brother and me with the different sides of the family, figuring that the families would come together for the sake of my brother and me.. That's not what happened.. Rifts like that don't just "mend" themselves for the sake of children.. if they did courts wouldn't see the ugliness of custody battles with parents using their children as pawns to hurt one another..

One of the many moments when looking back I wonder how anyone figured this would have *ever* been a good idea...

Everyone expected me to forget what'd happened to my mother.. to my family.. My sister was gone. My brother was gone. My father was gone. My mother was gone.. They told me my mother actually "ran away" that she was actually still alive..  and that my father was in a "hospital".. They'd also told me my mother was emotionally unstable, and unable to keep a house..

Looking back, I can't imagine watching your child waste away (my twin sister) for almost four years, deal with a thouroughly failing marriage, the death of her brother, and the general stress of always fighting with my father, *and* then deciding to start again. To file for divorce, get councelling, and try to get yourself back together. I think she did a whole lot better than the woman who said it but stayed with her abusive husband, what was happening in our house, and living in denial of what her son had done..

Once I finally saw my grandmother (mother's mother) again, I asked her point blank what'd happened to my mother, and she said "I'm sorry, but I'm not supposed to talk to you about that" when I said next "She was murdered.." She said "Yes." I actually thought it was an uncle instead of my father at the time, when she said "No" to that, I told her it was my dad and she didn't deny it.. She actually got in trouble for not denying what I told her.
They'd (father's parents) made her promise not to tell me anything before they'd allow her to see me again.. Thing is.. I told her.

Once they were talking about my mother in the car on the way home, I exploded. I told them I knew the truth and also that my grandmother had tried not to tell me, but that I told her.

The fact that I not only knew, but that I thought it was his brother, who looked a lot like him (then realized that it was actually my father himself) should have tipped off EVERYBODY that there was a (visual) memory there.. I'd asked because his brother looked like him. (I was still really young at this time, so I didn't get the tip myself until the memories came back)..

I've seen sexual abuse at my grandparent's (father's father) side, and the emotional and physical crap that goes with trying to convince a child to keep their mouth shut. Fair to say I know where my father got his temper..

When I ran away from that, I obviously figured the incest was the bigger trauma. I remembered it better.. (or.. at the time, it was all I remembered)
I had a gap in my memory about my mother between the fight right before the murder, and the day right after. Both of those memories were clear, but with a big black hole in the middle. I chalked it up to how young I was, that it made sense that I shouldn't be able to remember anything from that long ago anyway, and focussed on what I *did* remember.

Long story short, I'm now in my 40s.. and a while back I was on a news website where there was a headline about someone who had strangled their girlfriend, posted the pictures of it online, and left her in the bedroom for her kids to find.. The headline included a tiny copy of one of the very pictures he'd posted..

Trigger warning? What's that??
Oh holy * did it ever trigger me!! Less than 0.no seconds at all when I saw that picture.. I had some major flashbacks, visual which is unusual for me, that filled in pretty much the blanks of the missing time I had, plus a few other ones.. all of them of me trying not to breathe so they wouldn't know I was awake.. I was so bloody scared..

It's easy isn't it? Everyone heard of fight and flight, but what do you do when flight isn't an option and fight gets you killed?

So suddenly a lot of the anxiety I'd learned to control was just raging free.
I couldn't do what I could handle before, I crashed really, really hard.

I have hypersomnia btw. and naturally low blood pressure, so the minipress meds that sometimes work for ptsd was not possible, and anti anxiety meds meant I couldn't function because I wouldn't be able to wake up..

A lot of other things happened including a brother in law who threatened to kill my at the time 14 year old son while my husband was in the ICU in a coma, on life support due to Menengitis. He has cancer so he is very vulnerable to infections and he wasn't expected to make it. Then I get a call.. my grandmother, mom's mom, was dying.. all this one after another..

Once my husband did wake up, he wasn't the same. He had trouble telling what was real or not.. He was hearing voices (which he thought were doctors and nurses talking in his hospital room, because he thought he was actually still in the coma..
He'd had a near death experience, but his was terrifying to him. He suddenly had a lot more anxiety to deal with of his own.. He tried to put a plastic bag over his head because he wanted ton"wake up from the coma" and he figured "dying in the coma" would force him to wake up..

Bottomline is that I ended up in an emotional maelstorm.. The last few months I haven't been doing well..

My landlady (who has no idea what my past is but knows I have ptsd) said that it was nonsense to keep hanging on to the past.. and she doesn't get it.. I've done all I can to move forward.. I always have.. I feel judged for my grief.. and the fact that I am grieving..

We currently have neighbors above us that fight all the time, especially at night.. There is drug use involved, and for all his slick exterior, I've always been very good at spotting people with violent tempers..

I've been angry and just super anxious, and last night I finally put 2 and 2 together, just.. a few hours ago.. Duh, but I guess I finally get why I lay there in bed, terrified, and angry, and feeling like screaming..

There is a release in understanding it at least.. finally.. but yeah.. I'm drowning in words..

There is so much to add, but I needed to say this out loud. I don't actually know why this urge is so terribly strong now.. I mean.. it's been over thirty years!! I hate that it still gets to have such a hold on me.. I guess it has had that straight along though.. every time I didn't stand up for myself.. both afraid to hurt someone, and terrified I wouldn't he able to stop someone hurting those I love most.. it's been there all along.. The way I talk to myself.. I've come to the realization that that voice tends to be the voice of my grandfather, not actually my own. I'm learning to recognise it when that voice starts talking in my mind, and remind myself that I don't have to listen to that voice anymore. That the voice of the most hurtful, bitter, and broken people in my life has no business inside my mind and my heart. That, when I hurt, not just because I wish my mom could see my kids, but because I wish everything had gone different so they'd have the rest of a family too.. father, grandfather, everyone included.. a very big little part of me keeps asking "why?" Why was it so hard to do things different? I was and am by nature an optimistic happy person. That's my "neutral".. why couldn't they just let me be happy? Bring the happiness my kids brought me?

I know what happened isn't my fault.. of course I do.. so why do I have to keep reminding myself of that when that grief comes back to the surface? "Why couldn't I just be happy? Why, if it took so little to make me happy, did they have to hurt me like that? Take everything and everyone I love away? For what? To keep secrets? It was so needless.. and that's maybe the
hardest part..

So this is me, where I'm at right now..
I don't know a ton about C-PTSD, but so far it makes a lot of sense. I recognise a lot.. I'm looking for a way forward..

Thanks for being there..

Three Roses

I'm so sorry for your losses. It must be devastating to have lost your mom and not be told what happened, not be able to talk about it.

People like your landlady just don't get it. We've all heard it, "stop thinking about it and it won't affect you," blah blah blah. Such a lie. They don't understand that makes as much sense as breaking your leg and expecting it to heal just by not thinking about it.

I'm glad you're here. Thanks for the trigger warning at the beginning. Looking forward to sharing more of this experience with you. While it sucks that we've been horribly abused, it's great that we now have a community of others who have been through the storm, too.

lexx

Hey..

It was hard to be lied to when you actually know what happened.. It made me doubt myself, and it hurt to think she might be out there somewhere, and not have taken us with her..

I guess I sort of understand as an adult that they couldn't face that, and God, not much else either.. but was it necessary to trample others?

I guess that is what I feel towards most negative encounters in my life.. Why is/was this so necessary?

As far as the landlady goes.. I wouldn't have expected this to come back if you'd have asked me 5 years ago. I also was completely blind to how much this is still effecting me..

Emotional flashbacks were an eye opener for me, because, yes, I definitely have this..

I mean, it is very hard to raise kids, because I didn't want to hurt them, I didn't want them to hurt others, and I *really* didn't want others to hurt them!!

Every time I started thinking in that direction I got irrationally (well, no, but yes.. ugh..) terrified.. I'd try to keep as much as possible from them in case something would happen to them.. an enormous urge to be able to touch.. something.. hug them one more time through a piece of scrap paper they scribbled on.. I guess it's not hard to see the reasons behind it if you take my mom into account, but for years, I didn't see it. I felt it, but I didn't actually have words for it. The more stressed the stronger that urge.. It's still there, but at least I understand it now.. It's hard to heal something you don't understand.

To go back to your broken leg analogy.. It's like I've become so used to walking on it that everyone just assumes it must be fine, me included.. It's just not that noticable anymore.. Then when I still can't run though, it's easy to just blame lack of exercise...

I honestly was afraid I'd end up in the hospital this time, once the memories came back.. It happened in an instant when I saw the face of the woman of the article. I knew immediately that she was dead, and that she'd been strangled. Itty bitty picture and no time at all.. I saw my mom. Then I couldn't stop seeing her, and I couldn't sort of pause it either so I could deal with life.. for a while it was non stop.

I'm still really rocky.. but it's not that image non stop anymore.. I don't have as much control over my emotions as I did, then again, maybe I only thought I did.. I'm not sure.. I'm just worried about getting through this..

So if you've been where I'm at.. how did you?

Is this normal, or is this something that should tell me I'm getting worse?

I am in therapy, and I like my therapist, but I need something different than someone telling me to dig deep and stay strong.. if I wasn't strong I wouldn't have gotten as far as I have, but I worry it's not enough..

Again.. if you've been here.. do you have any advise?

Thank you, guys..



Three Roses

Therapy was really helping...I want to go back at some point but right now it's not in the budget.

As far as advice, the more you know about this the better you'll be able to pursue a course of healing. It's all so individual. CPTSD From Surviving To Thriving, and The Body Keeps The Score are two books I'd say are indispensable. And, keep posting, taking and asking questions, it really helps.

Andyman73

Lexx,

I don't have time right now, work starts in about 10 minutes. But I wanted to throw you a quick life line here. I don't know what to say...not because I'm speechless...but....the short time to write this little note got my brain on pause...and I'm really trying not to cry for you, and little lexx too.

I see you. I hear you. I believe you, and I believe in you. I am so so sorry about your lost family members.  Your twin sister.... :stars: :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(. I'm a twin. So that really got me....

I don't know if you do hugs or not, but I'm gonna send you a few... :hug: :hug: :hug: :hug: :hug:
I will get back to you on this to reply more. If you don't hear from me...soon, could be due to limited access. Mostly only have my smart phone as home pc is dead.

Andrew

Andyman73

lexx,

Here again!  :hug: :hug: :hug: :hug: :hug:

I re-read everything. Seems so much like a cult lifestyle....I'm so sorry for that. You can't chose what you're born into.

Hey, wanted to say...nobody who tells you to be strong, knows anything about true strength. Lexx, you're only here because you have been strong for all your life. When they say "only the strong survive" they don't mean bodybuilder/powerlifter strength. They mean like intestinal fortitude, strength of character, and heart. You've got all those in spades. It's okay to let go and just coast a bit.

I'm here for you, my friend. You need to vent or have any kind of question about anything, I'd be glad to share ideas and just be a listening ear.

:hug: :hug: :hug: :hug: :hug:

Andrew