Alis volat propriis November 25, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Forgiveness, Life.Tags: Programming, Survivor, Inpatient, Singleton, Parents, Safe, Jealousy, Triangle of Choices, Silence, Family, Choices, Help, suicide, Image, Secrets, Life, Feelings, Childhood, Depression, Sadness, Pain, Hurt, Free, Death, Self-Harm, Alis volat propriis, She flies with her own wings, Take your Life, Rest In Peace.., High School, Childhood Depression, Manifest, Minimize
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“Be strong now because things will get better. It might be stormy now, But it can’t rain forever”
Recently one of my few friends from my childhood took his own life. We used to be friends but we had not talked in about 7 years. As we, both attended different high schools. I was not particularly close with him or anyone until I went to high school.
I do not remember him being depressed in middle school. Nevertheless, he could have been, as I do not remember much of anything.
I think many people are never seen as depressed because it may manifest itself differently in some. I know that childhood depression looks different that adult depression. I think when you’re in a high school your at that awkward stage and depression can be manifested with childlike symptoms.
During high school, a few of my classmates committed suicide. I always never really thought I felt any feelings about it. However, when everyone was talking about how much their suicide must have hurt their families, I had different feeling about that.
I always was jealous of the person that took their own life, as they finally were free. They did not have to living a life of hurt, sadness and pain. They did not have to hide their depression from everyone.
I went to a catholic school from when I started school formal school in 4th grade. I never thought about suicide as a bad thing, but I never saw it as good. Suicide was always just indifferent to me.
I feel like I hide many feelings and I try to minimize my abuse. When I was twelve, I attempted suicide and I did not plan it. I was just something that I somehow already knew how to do…I really never understood it.
My parents knew that I had tried to commit suicide but they did nothing to help me. The same thing happened in 6th grade when they were told I was self-harming. They “talked the talk” to the school counselor and pretended to care.
I think that some parents might really care about what other people think of them. In addition, they may view getting help as something ugly. I think what is ugly is that sometimes people that are really hurting never get the help that they truly disserve and need.
Anyone who feels suicidal please seek professional help. Your life is worth it.
Rest In Peace..
Keep Them Safe.. November 23, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Family, Life, People That Change My Life.Tags: DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Ritual Abuse, Survivor, Trauma, Child Abuse, Predators, Safe, SRA, Incest, Trust, Real, Protection, Love, Tears, Feelings, Littles, Insiders, Innocents, My Little Monters, Sadness, Children, Childparts, Childlike, Little, Sadistic Child Abuse, Feeling Safe, Silly, Evil, SpongeBob Square pants, Precious, Dreamland, Helpless, Small, Babies, Three Year Old, Held, Comforted, Sweet
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Yesterday I spent the day with my three little cousins aka “My Little Monsters”. These sweet boys are the light of my life. I know that when they tell me they love me its real.
My silly little boys have no idea what kind of evil there is in the world. They do not have to worry about predators. The only thing that they worry about is missing an episode of SpongeBob Square pants. They are little, precious and innocent.
Last night as I was putting them to bed, they asked me to stay in their room until they went to sleep. I did because I like them to feel safe. As I watched them drift off into dreamland, I started feeling sad. I just looked at those precious little babies as they slept peacefully and tears started to fall from my eyes. When I look at those boys, I see that they are so helpless and small.
I realized how safe they are and how unsafe I actually was during my childhood.
My littlest cousin is turning three in a few weeks, and it has been bothering me because one of my parts is three. It is that I just picture a three year old as something much bigger and stronger than he is. When I look at him, I still see a baby. He still likes to be held, rocked and comforted.
When I see my littlest insiders, I do not see them as children, because they are not children. I never got to do childlike things. I had to do grown up things from a very young age. Baby-like things never existed. I never had the chance to be a child. In addition, I do not get a second chance to redo childhood. It is over, done, history.
However, when I look at my little cousins, I see three sweet innocent boys who are safe from abuse. They just look up to me with their big brown eyes and I just want to hold them and keep them safe forever.
I always think and wonder how anyone could hurt a child…
My Choice To Be “Self-Centered” November 21, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Boundaries, Family.Tags: Addict, Boundaries, Childhood, Childlike, Choices, Control, Criminal, Cultures, DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Enablers, Feeling Safe, Healing, Healthy, I can, Image, Journey, Little, Love, Me, NO, Predators, Ritual Abuse, Sadistic Child Abuse, Safe, Secret Life, Secrets, Self-Care, Self-Centered, Selfish, SRA, Stolen, Survivor, Tactics, Trauma, Triangle of Choices, Trust, Unrealistic, Victim
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During my childhood, I did not have choices. I had things forced upon on my little childlike body. The word “no” did not exist in my vocabulary. I had never heard the word boundaries. Let alone know I could have them.
However, within the past year I have figured out that now, I can choose things. I have chosen to return to school. I have chosen not fight therapy and to just let professionals help me. I am starting to choose who I show love to.
The most important thing that I did choose was to start my journey of healing. I could have picked a very different path than I did. I could have become an addict, or a criminal. I could have chosen to stay a victim but I decided to call myself a survivor.
Recently my mother told me “I am self-centered and selfish for not giving someone a hug”.
I thought about what she said, I realized something. The first 22 years of my life, it was about everyone else.
While I experienced long-term sadistic abuse as a child. I kept my abuse a secret unconsciously because I was worried about how it would ruin the family image. My family stole my childhood away from me because of the unrealistic image they choose to show others. They enabled my abusers for years until one of them died.
Selfish actually means caring only about oneself and I do not see anything wrong with that. At this point in my journey, I need to work on self-care. I am learning that it is ok and very healthy to establish boundaries.
I will not let others control my life. I will not do anything that I do not feel comfortable doing. If someone gets offended by not getting a hug, too bad. I am an adult now and a survivor. I make decisions for myself based on what makes me feel safe.
Therefore, “Self-centered” and “selfish”…damn right I am!
The Tale Of The Black Sheep November 16, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Family, Life.Tags: DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Multiple, Trauma, Nightmares, Inpatient, Child Abuse, Parents, Acceptance, Therapist, Silence, Choices, suicide, Flashbacks, Trust, Perfect, Toxic Family, Secrets, Invalidation, Injection, Black Sheep, Distraction, Self-Harm, "Its okay", 1:1, Wrong Way, Right Way, Mature, Rules, The Tale Of The Black Sheep
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When I first realized I was abused as a child I did not tell anyone. I kept it secret from my family, friends and myself. I thought that maybe if I just do not acknowledge the idea that it will just go away. I tried that for while, I did everything left my house, distracted myself, self-harm and then finally suicide. This is when I ended up at a general psych unit for the first time.
I was having bad nightmares, flashbacks about it at first. I had no idea what they were, but everyone else around me knew. I worked with a MSW individually while on the unit, because I would not talk to anyone.
After a few days the therapist said, “Do you see how bad something wants to come out, just let it out, it’s ok”.
Sometimes words just cannot explain. I did not actually verbalize the words “I was abused” but I just said mangled words that somehow formed a sentence. After that, treatment team said that I should tell my parents. I trusted the therapists’ words so I said okay. The day before the meeting with my parents, I felt like I was being backed into a corner. I freaked out.
After I woke up from my IM induced nap, I was on 1:1. I told the MSW that I could not tell them. She asked me if she could tell them without me in the room, and I said okay.
The next time I saw my parents they acted like everything was perfect, there was no talking about anything. I was so hurt by that, they just learned I was abused and they acted, as it was never said. That is when I knew that nothing was okay.
My family says that they did not like the way in which I told my secret to them. They said I told them the “wrong way” because it did not come out of my mouth. My mother said that I could have picked a more “mature” way to tell them.
For a long time, I felt bad about having the MSW tell them. However, I do not think any way I could have chosen would have been the “right way” in their eyes. I told them the only way I could. I could not even tell myself so how could I tell anyone else.
I think that telling my secret has changed my life. Nevertheless, I know it changed my families’ life. I was no longer following the rules. I was now the black sheep.
Black is a good color on me :)
Co-conscience to No-conscience November 10, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Catastrophizing, Multiple.Tags: Abusers, Alters, Blurriness, Burned, Catastrophizing, Child Abuse, Co-conscience to No-conscience, Comfort Items, Confused, Cool Socks, DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Going "Crazy", Hide, Inpatient, Insiders, Journals, Lost, Makes me want to throw up, Multiple, Parts, Perpetrator, Personas, Real, Realness, Remember, Safe Place, Scared, Self-States, Slow, Take Over, Trauma, Writing
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The last three years have been a blur. I do not remember very many details of anything. I know that I was inpatient a lot. I know I was obsessed with coordinating everything with my socks when I was inpatient. Sometimes I see people who know me and I have no idea who they are.
I feels like three years just went by so fast and I have no idea what I did. One of my insiders burned all my journals, comfort items and my beloved stuffed animal. However, not everything was lost I used to hide journals everywhere so my family would not find them.
I recently hardcore cleaned my room and I found a few journals from inpatient stays. I was nervous to read them because I did not want to get triggered. So, I did not actually read them I just skimmed to see who was writing in them. I found it very weird because many insiders I do not know about wrote in the books.
Right now, I feel like I do not know a lot of insiders in my system. That is scary because where are they at now? I am not integrated, so I have no idea where they are. These parts names I have never heard before. In addition, they have a safe place inside, and I had no idea about that.
I hope that if they come out again that they do not take over my life. I do not ever say/write my abuser(s) names and these books of full of names.
Sometimes I feel like time is passing so painstakingly slow. I wonder if this is real or anything is real. I thought I was past this.
I do not like looking at the past and sometimes I feel like I live my life through my past.
Hold Me Forever November 9, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Family, Life, People That Change My Life.Tags: Acceptance, Angel, Belonging, Child Abuse, DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Family, Gentleness, Godmother, Good Specialness, Healing, Help, Hold Me Forever, Life, Love, Nightmares, Normal, Parents, Rocking Chair, Safe, True Family, Trust, Unwanted
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Babies need to be touched, held, rocked, hugged and comforted. Although my little cousin is two, he still wants his mother to hold him. I have seen them do this and it is the sweetest thing.
When I was growing up there times when I wanted to be held. I grew up living with my grandparents who did not show affection towards me because “I was not their child”. I did not belong to my parents either, because they gave me away. I really do not know whom I belong to, I always felt that no one really wanted me.
However, there was one person. My Godmother who lived far away always made me feel, that she wanted me. For a week every summer she would take me to her house in the country and every winter, she would take me to her house in the mountains. We used to go strawberry picking in the summer and go skiing in the winter. I loved being with her so much.
I remember that there was always a rocking chair in her room. I used to sleep next to her. When I would have bad dreams she would sit with me in the rocking chair and hold me until I fell asleep. I remember that so vividly, her gentleness and how safe I felt in her arms. It was something that I had never experienced before, and we liked it a lot. It was very different from when I had bad dreams at home. I think being with her is what good special feels like. I always pretended that I was her child.
I have been thinking about my Godmother a lot lately. Maybe because she was the only true family member I had. She rescued me during childhood. She made me know what good touch and feeling safe was. When it was time to go back home I would always be so sad and would ask her if she could hold me in her rocking chair one last time. That is how we would end every week for as long as I can remember.
For those two weeks every year, I was safe, and I felt like I belonged.
I miss her a lot since she died, sometimes I visit her grave and I talk to her. I write her letters about everything. It has been almost ten years. I have her name tattooed on my body because she is my angel.
Evil Lives In My House November 8, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Family, Forgiveness.Tags: DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Ritual Abuse, Psychology Student, Inpatient, Insurence Companies, Child Abuse, Parents, Family, Forgiveness, Help, Toxic Family, Sick, Change, Healing, Future, Tactics, Relationships, Evil Lives In My House, Games, Manipulative Tactics, Distance, Refund, Choice, Unfair, Being a Burden, Being Sorry, Fakeness
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I have learned that evil does truly exist and it resides in my home.
The last few years many people in my life are not who I thought they were. The ordinary people are not actually like what they presented to me previously. Many things were revealed that make me realize what kind of people they actually are.
The last people I would expect this from were the first people to do it.
I see those games they play. The manipulative tactics used and the fakeness towards everyone on the outside. They ask, “Why I distance myself from them” but they already know the answer to that. I was given away because I was not planned and not wanted. Then when it was convenient, was taken back.
They think paying for all this therapy is going to change me back to “that person”, I was before; I think they had better ask for their money back.
I am not going to change back to that person and nor do I want to go back to that person. My so-called family does not get to choose who I become now, I do. I will not be like them or anyone in their family that is for sure. They make it very clear that I am not like anyone.
The damage is done now and no one can go back.
I did not sign up to be traumatized but it happened and I am choosing to heal. I am thankful for the money I am getting for therapy but I do not like being told I am a burden because of it.
However, this is my favorite thing of all, buy my siblings cars for their birthdays and do not buy me one because my parents already bought me something, down payments for inpatient hospitalizations. When I get my PhD, I will pay them back, not because I feel bad. Because I do not want them to be able to say that, they helped me in anyway.
They do not get to benefit from my success. My therapist told me something I had never heard before she said that my family is lucky that I choose to have a relationship with them after what they did to me. It sounded good but weird at the same time. I did not realize that I had a choice; I just thought I had to have a relationship.
My family hurt me and continues to hurt me. Right now, I choose not to forgive them because they are not sorry. However, it could change, as I cannot predict the future.
Enablers November 7, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Family.Tags: DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Ritual Abuse, Survivor, Multiple, Trauma, Child Abuse, Normal, Parents, Acceptance, SRA, Incest, Silence, Trust, Perfect, Toxic Family, Image, Secrets, Life, Protection, Enablers, Families, Getting Hurt, Makes me want to throw up, Covering up, Shutting up, Fractured Life
2 comments
Families are supposed to protect each other. However, sometimes, they do not. Sometimes families do not do what they are supposed to do and that means someone gets hurt.
Abuse is part of a bigger picture. Abuse is all about secrets. Covering up, being told to shut up, and portraying the image of the “perfect” family.
When I eventually decide to accept the abuse, I will also be accepting that “my” family is part of it. The abuse did not happen solely because of me. “My” family helped enable my abusers. The people that fractured life also provided the abusers with the means.
My family system is based on a secret, lie, and an image.
Unspoken Truth November 4, 2009
Posted by hopefortrauma in Life.Tags: DID/MPD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Ritual Abuse, Survivor, Multiple, Trauma, Internal communication, Child Abuse, Predators, Acceptance, SRA, Flashbacks, Trust, Toxic Family, Real, Believe, Insiders, Lies, Avoidence, Truth, Sugar Coated, Blunt, Being Bad, Free, Ugly, Complicated, Death, Perpetrator Death, Children, Kidparts, Childparts, Internal System, Funeral, Unspoken Truth, Meaning of Truth
2 comments
The word truth has very many meaning.
Truth could be what you want to believe and tell others. On the other hand, your truth could be what you tell yourself. The truth can be sugar coated or very blunt. Truth can be a very personal thing. It can be something that you keep secret from the world or something that you tell others. The word truth can have infinite meanings.
When children are young, they are sometimes told to always tell the truth because lying is bad. Lies come in different colors, shapes and sizes. I also heard this before “the truth will set you free”. In my opinion, my truth has not set me free. I feel far from free. My truth has made things complicated.
Everyone around me is learning about my truth. My family does not like my truth because it is ugly. I am finding that telling my truth is not always the most accepted thing.
The truth hurts, but can be so nice to hear sometimes when you have been fed bullshit all your life.
My truth sounds so different coming from others. Today my therapist said aloud some things that happened in the past. It sounded so different coming out of her mouth, even though it belongs to my body. I just laughed when she said it because I had no idea what else to do. It is obviously important to me because I have been thinking about it since I left her office.
When I think about it all my parts are pieces of my truth. So I guess my life is not a lie, I just chose to tell my truth differently than others. I created a whole internal system based on my truth. My truth is held by all my insiders.
One of my abusers is still alive and was a part of my so-called family and going to die soon. I have avoided this person since I remembered my truth, so I now had to decide what I am going to do at the death. I thought about this long and hard for so long and I finally came to a decision that I was not going to attend the funeral when it happens.
I recently told my mother that I was not attending the funeral. I had planned to give her a letter I wrote but I wanted to tell her in person so she could see the seriousness in my eyes. I told her and she wanted to know specific details of what how this person traumatized me…
I thought to myself that it is my choice if I tell her the details of my abuse. I do not believe sharing details with family members is helpful. In addition, I do not really think my family could handle the truth. Truthfully, I cannot really handle it myself. I struggle with figuring out if my truth is real because my truth sounds so bizarre in my head.
I have not spoke my truth to my therapists yet. They have seen my truth through flashbacks and artwork. I cannot speak my truth as an adult, child parts tell their truth in therapy but I do not feel like it is mine. I think that is why I laughed when my therapist said a part of it today because I do not claim that truth. That truth is scary and that would make it extremely real.
I have not found my meaning of truth yet. The truth that my insiders claim does not belong to me right now. I hope finding my truth helps me to make sense of everything in my past and present.
