This is somewhat difficult for me to talk about… normally when I try to talk about it I end up writing a book… as in using too many words… and usually end up deleting and not posting at all…. Not only that… but in case you haven’t noticed already I ramble a lot (not just about this) and usually end up going in many different directions at the same time… even repeating myself…. so if something is unclear…. feel free to ask questions if you have any….
I was diagnosed with PTSD in 1998… In my life I’ve had more negative experience with food and eating than positive… starting when I was a child… long term abuse or torture by a mentally ill mother… her favorite method of torturing me was using food…. and/or something… anything she could make me swallow… Not always food or something meant to be eaten…
Even long after her death I had problems with food and eating…. I was starving myself for quite a while and became dangerously underweight…. and at one point I was diagnosed with an eating disorder… though a little later I was also diagnosed with Gastroparesis, severe ulceration of the stomach and later ….or after my entire colon was removed in an emergency operation… Ulcerative Colitis….
I also have another mental illness… schizophrenia… that makes me lose touch with reality unless I’m on medication… because of my problems swallowing I get a shot every 28 days and that helps me staying in reality most of the time…. I do have an occasional bad day though every now and then but nothing close to what it’s like without the meds….
I have talked about this here a little before…I think… but 9 years ago I was very ill… I was very depressed, self-harming and having symptoms of psychosis… I guess you can say I really had hit my bottom with my mental health…. I was an expert on hiding this sort of things…. ever since my childhood I had hidden what was going on inside of me…. but…. I was troubled… everyone around me knew that… but I hid a lot of what was going on inside of me and made them believe I was doing the best I could… in a way I was… but after all I was eating (which was a big problem before this) and I was not harming myself (or at least not in the way I was before) but at that point I had already decided to take my own life… I’ve posted about this on my blog before… and on Sept 10th which was World Suicide Prevention Day I posted about it on my Facebook page but for those who want to read it that post can be found on my Facebook page (For now it’s open to the public)
The attempt was colored by the abuse I went through as a child…. I don’t want to go into all of that in detail though but this left me a lot of damage…. Among the effects this had on my body is tissue damage and scaring on the inside of my mouth and throat… Caustic ingestion… I swallowed poison/chemicals that burned the inside of my body…. and kept burning me on the inside long after the actual ingestion…. Although there are other factors from my past as well…. it’s possibly…and most likely…. what caused the cancer in my esophagus… For now… I seem to be cancer free…. but cancer may very well show up elsewhere in my body in the future…. mouth, throat…. even my liver or my kidneys…. but this is something that I try not to think about too much and will just tackle if it comes up…. but I have had…and will continue to have regular scans because of it…
Another thing I did that night… was something that I had fantasized about for a long time…. This is somewhat difficult for me to talk about… and I hope I won’t be judged for posting about this…. Some of you may know about it already (if you’ve read my blog or somewhere else) but I have a large part of my visible tongue missing… In my deranged and delusional mind I cut it out… just because I wanted to know if I could do it… after all I was going to kill myself anyway (or so I thought)…. Doctors tried to save my tongue… by attaching the “missing” part back in… but there was too much damage done on the inside of my mouth so it wasn’t successful so they had to remove it again….
OK…
I know there are people on here that can’t eat and get all their nutrition through a feeding tube…. I know there are people on here that have had tongue cancer… and/or people who struggle with swallowing… or speaking out loud…. But in the past I have wished I was physically unable to eat and speak…
Ever since I was a kid I’ve had a severe stutter…. My mother told me she was ashamed of me and told me not to speak to anyone who spoke to me… If I did it had consequences… Even at 13 I stopped speaking…. didn’t speak a word for almost 3 years….
Waking up alive after the suicide attempt changed me…. I don’t want to live in the past anymore… I want to live…. and enjoy life… I want to be able to speak better…. and I want to be able to swallow…. and eat…..
Sometimes I have “bad days” I wish I didn’t have to speak and/or like recently when I’m working on eating again after my surgery …but I also know that my ‘bad days’ are when my mental illness is shaking it’s ugly head…. and messing with my mind…. and lately it has been a struggle….
Since the suicide attempt I have been working very hard with a speech therapist that has helped me a lot… My stutter is nowhere close to where it used to be… I speak very very slowly though…. (I type a lot faster than I speak btw) and I *can* speak in spite of my tongue being a little too short… or clearly enough for most people to understand what I say….. I admit though…. I’m not the most talkative person at the party and mostly just speak to my family…. trust and self-esteem issues probably…
I was diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus in August…. and had an esophagectomy on Sept 16th…. not only did they remove my esophagus but I have no stomach left at all now…. and from previous surgeries… I have no colon and only 3 – 3,5 meters of small intestine…
Long before E-cancer diagnosis last August…. or since May last year I got a feeding tube because my inability to eat enough orally …problems with my mouth, tongue, throat, esophagus and stomach problems… but even though I couldn’t eat enough… I was eating a little bit every now and then or when I could for a year along with the tube… or until last spring (sometimes in April/May I think)…. I haven’t been eating anything through mouth since then (until recently…) but I kept getting food down my windpipe or chocking on it… and/or it getting stuck in my esophagus…
I’m slowly starting to eat again after surgery although no one is really pushing me except me maybe…. I still pretty much rely on the tube…. but my ‘eating’ consists of only a teaspoon (maybe) or so of something soft throughout the day…. It’s been quite a struggle…. both physically and mentally…. especially mentally…. but just having food inside my mouth (without really swallowing it) is a mental struggle for me and causes anxiety and unwanted and most of the time uncontrollable responses and reflexes on my part… My tongue… or lack thereof… is another problem… lack of properly working saliva glands and not to mention lack of feeling in large part of my mouth and impaired sense of taste…. excuse my language… but fuck that!
I am going to work through all that! I realize I may need the tube for the rest of my life…. and I may never be able to eat a large “all-you-can-eat” buffet meal… (not in one sitting anyway) but I want to be able to eat without having a negative mental reactions or memories…. without a panic attack… and without the ‘shadows’ from my past interfering… Damn it! I want to be able to enjoy a meal for once in my life!
Hey it’s me… your son… the one you were supposed to protect from harm and give love to… remember me? I remember you…
I remember when you tied me up and showed food down my throat… sometimes it wasn’t even supposed to be eaten… or something so hot that my mouth and my throat would hurt for days… Sometimes my tummy would hurt so much I almost couldn’t move…
I remember when you woke me up in the middle of the night…. screaming at me… telling me I was lazy for sleeping… and you would push me down the stairs… I still have occasional pain in my right foot… and when I do I’m reminded of you… but I’ve learned to leave out the delusions you planted in my head… your delusions… They are not mine anymore… maybe they never really were… but instead just something that your special ability to convince people you were always right that made me believe you for so long… I just didn’t know any better…
Yes, I remember your words and for a long time… for way too long …when I left home for the first time I did what you told me to do… and for a long time after that…. I listened to you for way too long… and I didn’t go away even if I could… I came back… I believed you for way too long… or maybe I was just too afraid to find out if you were right or wrong…
I remember being angry at you for leaving me… you made me believe I had to take care of the “it”… When Karen left… you made sure I remembered it was my fault… and then…the way you left… it made me even more convinced…
Now… almost 23 years later… I know you weren’t well… you weren’t yourself… I also know I wasn’t really well either… I know all of “it” was your illness… blinding you… preventing you from being a mom…
I remember times where you and I had together… times where you didn’t feel a need to hurt me in anyway… I remember being able to sit on your lap or beside you and you would put your arms around me and tell me you cared about me… that you loved me… and even though some of those occasions there were people around… I know you meant it…
On your good days you did show me love… You told me you cared… I remember you telling me you didn’t want me to be taken away from you… that you never wanted me to leave because if I did you would die… and you cried and you told me you loved me… I believe… or at least I want to believe you had some kind of conscience… some kind of awareness of what you were doing… but fear kept you from doing anything about it… Maybe your own childhood just made you too ashamed of admitting your illness…
I remember you telling me at 17… When I left for school to don’t let anyone know about what’s going on inside my brain…. “They will lock you up” …you said… and you told me they would fill me up with medicine that would make me drool all over myself and make me feel like a zombie…
Well yes… I’ve been “locked up”… and a few times actually…. but they’ve let me out again…. every single time… and honestly… it isn’t as bad as you made it out to be… I don’t know if you ever had this experience or not… I don’t know if you were ever in a mental hospital… and maybe… this was probably the reality once…
But let me tell you something… you and I may have the same illness… not all the same symptoms or delusions though… but I would rather die than make my children go through what you put me through…
You told me once I wasn’t allowed to take my own life as it would only make ‘it’ more powerful… and within someone else who wasn’t as ‘lucky’ as I was… well I didn’t care about that when I upgraded your methods… silence and burn… in an attempt to stop my pain….
I’m not angry at you though… not really… not anymore… well… sometimes maybe… but when I am… it only makes my thoughts go places I don’t want to go… so I try not to…
I may not be the most perfect father in the world and maybe… and for a while didn’t realize I had this illness… but I did have someone in my life that helped me realize I needed help… someone who loved me with all my flaws and cared enough to do everything in her power to get help for me… To fight my brain in order to get my heart back…
I am sorry you didn’t have that….
I know my fight isn’t over… I know there will be more battles… but I can’t afford to let you hold me back anymore…
You have memories of a child… you know now that child was you… you have felt his pain and you carry the marks on your body… on the outside and the inside… Some didn’t leave a mark on your body but are instead engraved on your mind… You’ve spent years in therapy…. seen at least a dozen or two of medical professionals throughout the years… to help you put the pieces of you together… and to learn make sense of yourself… or how to survive the crippling emotions and memories from taking you under….
You’ve learned a great deal about yourself… there’s no doubt about that… and when everything seems hopeless you’ve kept on going no matter what… even at times without really knowing how or why…
Sometimes your mind doesn’t play along with what you’ve learned… and you try to hide what’s in there… Sometimes it’s intentional… sometimes you don’t really know what’s hiding in there…. or you can’t use words or any other method to get it out of there… and you’re back to the past… all alone… with her….
You know she doesn’t hate you… not really… at least it doesn’t always feel like she does… You know she is afraid… and there are times when you can see that she’s just as afraid as you are… She believes what she tells you is true and you as a child can’t do anything else than to believe her too… because you are too scared of “it”…
When you have been beaten and tortured for a while this is just yet another way to hurt you to punish you for just existing… When “it” has been a part of your existence…forever… you don’t even realize its wrong… not as that child…. “It” is your existence…
At thirteen you only exist because you feel your body…. your heart is still beating and your lounges still draw oxygen… but without pain… you are afraid now…. When you need to go out into the world… you put on a mask… a front…. a version of you for others to see… a fake smile, a fake happiness ….even fake love and compassion when needed… but on the inside you just don’t care…
You are still always afraid to slip up and say the “wrong thing”…. or that someone will see behind your cloths… or touch you in the wrong way and you might lose control and they would be able to read your pain from your expression…. or you would cry out in pain…. spontaneous reactions of what you were feeling on the inside….
You have the chance at seventeen to escape… but you don’t… The “it” has distorted your mind… you don’t know that at seventeen… but you do “what you have to do” and you don’t talk to anyone about it… and it never occurs to you to escape… and never go back… All because you believe you can’t exist without pain… you need it to survive… you need it so others can survive…
She is gone now… and although in your confusion you kept “it” going for many years afterwards… too many years…. or is she really gone? Her body may be gone… but you know her mind sits in the corner of your mind… Most days you don’t notice her sitting there… but when you do you feel you are not safe… It’s not that you are afraid of her coming to life and hurt you… you are afraid of your own mind… and what it is capable of…. what it has shown in the past…
Sometimes you go back there without realizing it…. and you can feel the child… the pain, the terror and his acceptance… you can feel how he accepts it in spite of the pain… but yet at the same time you feel you need to rescue that child… to hold him… and to show him real love… take him where there is no pain and no fear… but you realize there is no place without pain or fear… not really… All you can do is to connect with the child… have him share his strength to survive with you…. Join forces… and together you can do anything…
Everyone experiences some type of fear in their lives… and for many of us the first thought is to avoid situations where those fears will take over your mind…. We may not be fully aware of it… but it’s the way our brain works…
It might be something simple or something that doesn’t interfere with your normal life…. like you if you’ve had food poisoning dinging out at a restaurant you will most likely avoid going to that restaurant again… Your mind may start to connect this event to certain type of food…. and you will start avoiding that food from that day forward…. or maybe you will start relating particular taste, or scent …or even unrelated food to getting sick and what you experienced after the food poisoning…. This is quite common and something that many people can relate to… myself included… You experienced something that was bad or unpleasant, so you avoid it. You get those thoughts of “If I eat that, what if I get so sick again?” You just did a “what if”. It’s just the way how the human mind works….
Now, let’s talk about fears of things that too many people seem easy to overcome… or seem as irrational or even stupid to have… but also… let’s spice it up with life experiences that fortunately most people will never have to go through… some kind of trauma…. where you have felt that your life may have been in danger… You may have had to experience excruciating physical pain for weeks after the event…. or even experienced those types of situation… or similar situations… repeatedly….
Let’s say you were a child when you experienced the trauma… a child that was abused… not once but multiple times… never knowing what would happen the next day… never feel safe… Fortunately for some of us who have had to go through that sort of experience our brains come to the rescue and to help us to stay alive …It somehow helps us to live through each day of torture by making us somehow be able to dissociate or detach the fear from our selves… Something that feels as if you are out of your body and you feel as instead of you being tortured it is someone else’s body…. or even as if you’re not there at all….
Years go by… and you are no longer being abused… you grow up but your brain is still working overtime by keeping out the danger…. but eventually it can’t do that anymore…. and it starts sending you bits and pieces of what it has kept from you through the years…. That’s when you start collecting items in your box of fears… Maybe without really knowing why…. but every little thing/fear becomes an item in that box… Soon the box is over full… and you can’t get a clear picture of why each item is there or how to deal with all of them because they are coming on too fast… More time goes by and you eventually start to be able to make out what at least some of the items in your box stand for… or more like… how you can avoid it becoming alive in your mind… and situations where it becomes alive or where you think it might become alive…
Remember in the example I started this post with…. the part when you start to avoid everything that can possibly remind you of that unpleasant experience?
The later example is not really that much different from the first… the only difference is that there are more situations… more reminders and for some of them you may know that your fears are irrational… built up in your mind…and made impossible for you to control… Or that is what you believe… so instead of doing what you have to do your reaction is to avoid…
As result of the abuse I went through the first 27 years of my life I have something that medical professionals call Disorder of extreme stress not otherwise specified… or DESNOS… (To some better known as Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or C-PTSD). For me having this diagnosis doesn’t really mean anything other than it gives me access to therapists, doctors and other specialists who have education in that area… and who can give me tools that may help me and maybe my family to understand myself a little better…
I am still me… and I want to take a moment to say it…. I really do not like the phrase when people say “I suffer from…. [put anything here]” I know it may seem to some people that I suffer… but suffering to me is a negative word… something that gives you no hope, no escape or no chance to heal….
Ever since my box of fears started to fill up…. maybe 18 – 20 years ago… even long before that I have had to learn what most people learn while they are still children… In many ways I was a child mentally long after my body became an adult… but also at the same time a child that had experienced the ugliness and cruelty of humanity, and that from someone who my nature should have offered safety, love and guidance….
Today, I know I can trust my wife… even when I feel I can’t always trust myself… but I feel as I am getting better at that too… I usually know what to do… or what not to do…
I don’t really want to go into too many details but yesterday my wife had to make an appointment for me because of a physical problem that I know very well can lead to more serious problems if not treated… I had/have an infection in my mouth… I have many items in my box of fears that hold horrible memories involving my mouth… and though most of them are since my childhood some are even more recent than that… and ironically I have called some of those recent fears up on myself….
Yes, my wife made an appointment for me, and I really was planning on going…. but my brain started spewing out all sorts of reasons for me not to go… all sorts of “what ifs?” …spiced up with irrationality…as I knew that no one was really going to hurt me… at least not on purpose …and also knowing I have been through much bigger things than what this could ever be…. but not the less I freaked out, and refused to go with her….
But today was another day…. and another chance… and well… it turned out to be a no big deal… and a big box of antibiotics… and come back again next Friday…
Will that result teach my brain not to over think my next appointment …or future appointments? I honestly can’t say for sure… as this wasn’t the first time something like this happens… but maybe I need to start paying more attention to my box of won battles …That box is not empty…. but it is something that I need to be reminded of every now and then… or it will be outgrown by the other one….
A big bright room… too bright… a piano… He’s alone in there… There is window but it’s dark on the other side… but he knows she’s there… and a man he has never seen before…
He’s tired… and he’s hurting… but in spite of the pain he knows he has to sit down and play for them…
He pauses for a second or two… but then sits down at the piano and waits for the sign…
He wants to do well…
He starts playing….
39 years later… about 5 or 6 days ago… he is…. like so many times before… going through some of his old recordings… He comes across this piece again…. but he knows he is in no shape to listen to it…
He has been fighting depression… Even though he may smile or laugh occasionally he’s depressed as hell… Sometimes he just sits and stares into thin air… His body feels heavy… and he’s unable to move… or like something is on top of him pushing him down… he can’t get up… he feels sad ….or hopeless…. tired… old….
Memories from his past jump out of nowhere…. when they are least expected…
He listens….
He hears voices… not the one that he normally hears… but voices from the past…
This is the time when he doesn’t want to exist…. He has bad thoughts…. thoughts that have almost destroyed him in the past…. and it makes his anxiety go sky high…. and he feels a whole lot of guilt…. for almost everything… even things he knows deep down are not even close to being his fault…. He tells himself his thoughts are not true… but it doesn’t change the effect they have on him… they are still too strong… they feel too real to ignore….
He turns of the music… or maybe the piece just finished…. He walks into his living room… to his piano… sits down… and plays…. He can feel her behind him… the pain when she ‘does what she has to do’ …but he keeps on playing… His body aches… from top to bottom… but he keeps on playing…
I need my brain to understand… it can’t let those memories take over… consume every nerve in my body… every cell… and leave me broken for days thereafter…
I want to be able to sit down and play without reliving events from my past… I need to do that… for me… and me only….
This recording was made today… It isn’t perfect…. it wasn’t done effortlessly …or without an unwanted and painful memory from the past… Someday it will be…
There is something that I feel I need to get out of my system… something that happened 9 – 10 years ago… To people who are coming here now… those who did not know me back then, this may seem out of context or difficult to make sense off…
The forums I speak off – which remain nameless in this post – is a place where I had the trust of hundreds of members as an administrator… They saw me as someone who was strong and they looked up to me… but for me this was my lie… I didn’t feel strong at all… I was just a terrified little human and I felt I couldn’t do anything to make ‘them’ understand that…
I need to get as much of this out as I can. I fear this is the very reason why I have been having difficult time to write on here… I have always had fears of what other people may think of me… and I keep excusing myself over and over again… for everything…
—
I don’t know what you think of me… or who you think I am… I am trying not to care but I can’t help it… I do care…
I don’t know if you realize how sick I really was back then… especially the past year or so before I disappeared ….probably even longer than that, maybe before our paths crossed… I worked hard to keep my chin up… but inside I felt it was all a show… I felt I had to “put on a show” for you guys… I gave people as much support I possibly could… but held back when I should have reached out for support from you…
I honestly don’t remember a lot off what went on at the forums right before I left/disappeared… but I was tired… Tired of having to fight for life… In addition to my mental health going way down the drain I was also having problems with my stomach that was giving me a hard time as well as the rest of my GI tact… I had two major operations done around that time… one of them (as I felt at the time) leaving me ‘deformed’ and even more ashamed of my body…
I don’t remember in detail what I said or did… or what people thought I had done…. but people started to question me… I had already made a plan to kill myself and what went on there only made it easier for me to leave… I was selfish… and I didn’t care… I didn’t really think at the time as I had already made up my mind… I didn’t think about anyone except myself… except …maybe I did care a little… in a way transferring my own experiences to others… as at the time I felt it was better if people would just hate me as then they would not miss me and/or grief…
I don’t know what went on at the forums after I left… but I know I involved a very dear (offline) friend of mine to all of this… someone who was kind enough to allow me use her web server for my websites as well as the mini-forum… I had full access to the server… I was able to do whatever I could think off; including reading her (and her family’s) personal email and/or even reply as her…
For a while I just “worked with the flow” of pretending to work on my recovery as I wanted to prepare myself and do some serious writing before I went through with my *plan*… I was even on medication that did help with a lot of stuff that had been going on like organizing my thoughts, hallucinations, paranoia and more… which BTW helped me to write what I wanted to say to those I’d leave behind… my wife, my children, my sister and a few more people… all people I knew in the “real 3D world”…
Finally it was time… and well …I failed
I’m not going into any details… but I was in hospital for almost three years total afterwards…
By the time I got out my domains had expired… I didn’t have a backup at hand… I had no idea how to get a hold of anyone I had known online… and quite frankly I still didn’t care… I wasn’t going to get back online after all of this and hurt people all over again…
In a way I learned that I had given people the wrong impression of me… people looked up to me for some odd reason… I never understood that and it made me extremely uncomfortable, especially in the end… then again, at the time I also truly believed that I was exactly what my mom said I was… I don’t think I have to write that out here as I brought this up quite a lot back in the day…. but I guess that’s one of the reasons off why this seemed so easy for me…
I knew people would get hurt… I didn’t care
I knew people would get angry with me… I didn’t care
I knew if people would try to get in touch… I’d just ignore them
…but…
I have learned a lot of things about myself since then…
I have learned that no matter how strongly you believe something it can just be your brain playing with you… and by discovering that… I have also learned that life without having to hurt myself is indeed possible.
I have also learned that I have a long way to go in some areas… In the past two or three months I’ve tried to reconnect with some of my old online friends… With some it has worked and for that I am grateful… However, I don’t really have much to go on other than nicknames for quite a large group of people… some may even still hate me and are not going to reply… That doesn’t matter… really… their choice… but for me… I have to get it out of me…
Fortunately most people have good childhood memories regarding their parents. That however is something that I don’t really have… My father was never really there as his job required him to travel a lot… but when he was home he locked himself in his office.
Then there was my mother… I used to be able to write about her… about what she did to me… but somehow I am struggling with finding the words… I ask myself questions about forgiveness… whether I should forgive her or not…
Its mother’s day today… It’s hard to hear people talk about their mothers and how much they care for them… All of this reminds me of the hell my mother put me through… pain and torture… and leaving me with horrifying memories.
In the past I’ve wondered why my mother was different… I’ve wondered about the REAL reason for her to take a knife and make cuts on my body… I’ve wondered why she made me stay outside in the cold, night after night… not giving me food for days… making me eat things that weren’t made for eating… I could go on…
I know I can’t proof anything now, but I do believe my mother had schizophrenia… I suspected that long before I was diagnosed… and I knew I had this illness too… also long before I was diagnosed… For years I tried to hide my illness and was actually quite successful at it… Different diagnosis and medication helped. I admit now the main reason I wanted to hide this was because I was scared to death of somehow becoming my mother…
The other day I posted a list of what I have experienced through schizophrenia. I didn’t list everything… there are things that are too ugly and disgusting to share… I’ve seen a lot of those in my mother too… Disgusting/ugly things that both of us experienced or felt… So I ask myself… should I forgive her because she was sick?
“Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns gets passed on, generation after generation after generation. Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault. Love is the weapon of the future.” — Yehuda Berg
I found this on a blog I’ve been following for a while. For me and my family this hits home, probably for a long time… before my time, before my mother’s time …. I hope I haven’t passed anything too bad to my children… I know I have in the past, in a way…. but I try to use love as my weapon and brake that chain!
Once up on a time there was a little boy… we can call him Tommy… just to identify him from the rest… A long time ago, Tommy was abused… no he wasn’t beaten nor was he abused sexually… or anything of that sort…
Tommy was forced to eat…
…not just to finish his plate…a lot more than that…
He learned quickly that refusing only made things worse…
… and in the end his screams got silent…
At first he begged and cried… screamed for mercy… but nobody would listen… whether he liked it or not… “finishing up” was going to happen no matter what…. No matter the taste, the smell… whether it was meant to be eaten or not… if he was too full or not… everything should go in and stay there until everything was in… no mercy… not even if something came back up… if that happened… no mercy…
— EVERYTHING MUST STAY IN …until it’s time… —
Although none of this isn’t really happening to Tommy anymore… he is still scared… He still screams silently… he still cries…. and he’s afraid that someone will make him go back to that time… the time when he couldn’t say no… no matter what….
…so you see it isn’t that easy… and it’s not like they expected it to be easy… far from it… but someday it will be… for all of us.
I wanted to write about this in March… at the time I was having trouble sleeping… having nightmares… as well as urges to SI…
I don’t know about the rest of you but this is a highly triggering subject for me… so just in case…and even though I normally don’t specifically mark my posts as triggering… be careful….
I want to say something…. but I don’t know how to put it… No, honestly I do know how to put it… somewhat at least… but I am afraid what you may think of me after I do… uhm yeah I really do worry about that… and I wish I didn’t but I do…
…I am terrified… and really I have been to afraid …or to embarrassed to write about this… or even to admit that I partially at least still believe my mother… and to let go…
It has partially to do with past… wait.. isn’t everything in my life about my past… every hour of the today? It’s seems like a forever ongoing cliché .doesn’t it? ….or is it a cliché…is it something else? …. maybe…or that’s how it feels sometimes…
— “It’s because your mind is poisoned by this thing from your past and the poison keeps spreading and you feel there is nothing you can do about it… except to wait for it to eat you alive…”
Never mind… that isn’t what I started this post for….
Again… this is something that started in my past… and this is probably the biggest and the strongest demon of them all… And I know… this is the cause of almost all my fears of recovery and probably all my relapses as well….
As a child… as far back as I remember… I was led to believe that I was different… That nothing about me was good… everything I did… everything I said was (supposedly) for a different reason and/or the opposite reason than I believed…
My mother believed I was “cursed”…that I had evil powers which were her task in life to prevent and/or to teach me to control… Don’t get me wrong… I know how utterly ridiculous this sounds… I know now that my mother was a very sick woman… but I didn’t know it then… She was my mother… Of course I didn’t like this… of course I longed to be like my sisters… be “normal”… get to go to real world schools like they did… and that I wouldn’t have to go through any of “that”… but I believed her… and I believed her reasoning behind why she did what she did… and in a way a part of me still does… or at least is too afraid to let go of this thought… just in case if after all she was right….
Today… I often blame myself for everything that goes wrong… especially if I’ve had “a warning” before…
Warnings are dreams… my nightmares… I dream about things happening… events… It doesn’t happen exactly the same way as in my dreams but it happens… My mother took this as a sign… but after my baby sister was still born in 1975 and after me telling her about my nightmares… not to mention me telling her face to face in anger towards my sisters that if the baby would be a girl I’d hope she would die… (As bad as this sounds keep in mind that I was 9/10 years old at the time).
Although she still felt she needed to abuse me during the pregnancy… it didn’t seem as important to her like before… but after it was the same thing over again…. and if anything it changed from bad to worse…
–“To prevent this from happening again… you must suffer more… you must be in more pain… it is the only way. ”
–“Siete diabolici”
–“If you have a dream like that again we must do something about it… to keep it from happening.”
–“Siete diabolici”
Again… don’t take me wrong… I do know how all of this sounds…
…but
I dreamt about my baby sister dying …she did
I dreamt about the fire… it happened
I dreamt about the accident….
…the death of my sister Maria… and Chris…
…my baby Maria Carolyn….
I have had other dreams like that… and nothing happened but all those times I did something (bad) to myself instead…
…because at the time… every time i feel there is nothing else i can do about this…
…Even if i want to ignore it… how can I be sure? how can i be sure that nothing will happen.. and if it does… how can i be sure it wasn’t my fault?
*sigh*
…this is really one of the things i shouldn’t talk about because there is no solution to it…
no meds or anything….
this is my past… and i guess this is my present… as well as my future…
I don’t want this to be my future anymore… that much i can tell you…
but I don’t want self blame to be that either… I don’t want to live in fear of having to “take the chance”…
i know this is why my mother doing… believing i was cursed … making me believe ….or something…
…yes maybe she was just crazy…. for believing that…and for making me believe that…
I get all positive and determined for a while and then i freak out and fall right back down again…
because I am afraid to let go of this…
I’m too afraid to take a chance… and just say fuck it… because I keep wondering if she was right then it will be my fault if something happens…
But this is the reason why I am so terrified of getting better… terrified of feeling good… terrified of being happy… even for one week… couple of days… one day or even only a part of a day… but yes I do that anyway.. I do allow myself to feel good… smile and have fun occasionally… even without feeling bad or guilty about it…
…I’ve been trying to recover for so long… to “work thought my shit”…. but all along I’ve been terrified…. terrified and mostly of this one thing…
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