Archive for the ‘Trauma’ Category

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Diagnosis number 3? PTSD.

December 15, 2010

I put a question mark as it wasn’t neccesarily said as “this is another diagnosis”. I was speaking to Dr L this morning about how I often have flashbacks of my dad’s first psychotic episode and who I often snap out of it in tears of in a more fragile state. On which she replied, sounds very much like post traumatic stress, I wasn’t suddenly shocked, I just wondered why it hadn’t been addressed sooner or even asked about due to them knowing that I had experienced some traumatic experiences as a young child. It seemed like it would be obvious, no? Things like this kind of click me back into reality, in a way I have been given a new diagnosis yet there are only 2 months left of my CBT treatment and it seems like we haven’t even scratched the surface yet. I think that moving away and starting afresh will suddenly make me better and in my mind I know that’s not entirely true but I just don’t want to let J down by being even more ill and accumilating even more diagnoses.

Although saying all of that I like to have diagnosis because it makes me actually feel less mental. It makes me feel like I’m not the only one who experiences certain feelings and people can’t just say it’s something that will pass. To feel that you’re the only one makes you feel so much more crazy. I just wonder why the hell it’s all decided to burst out now, why could I do things before and now I can’t? It makes no sense to me and can get so very frustrating. I was able to get through school with 2 years of continous bullying and I still finished those years yet if I get a group of kids walk past me and say something nasty I start shaking and want to hide away. Why am I suddenly so damn fragile? And will J and I being able to cope in the adult world when I am so fragile?

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Hate is a strong word? Then it’s perfect.

December 2, 2010

If I were still in the Mormon Church I would be classed as unworthy because of my feelings towards my family but that’s ignorance right there. How can you forgive something that is ongoing and never stops?

I think I’ve had just about enough, now don’t you dare think this is a teenage “my parent’s don’t understand me, I hate them!” balls because I scream. I have been neglected, abused, stepped all over, guilt tripped and emotionally blackmailed so many times and It has wittled me down to almost nothing. My CBT has opened up a lot for me, my excuses for letting my parents do these things to me and not stick up for myself were that I felt sorry for them and they’re both ill. But I can’t carry on giving in to my mum’s emotional guilt trips or my dad’s blackmailing, they may be ill but that doesn’t mean they have a right to use and abuse me. I am their daughter, I shouldn’t have to take my mum to hospital if she feels ill or put my dad’s socks on every morning, I am fnejfwuniu sick of it all. I want out. I want f***ing out, now.

Mum

I was born to love mum. She wanted a child because she wanted a living “thing” to love her unconditionally and make her feel good about herself and be hers forever. She would then get angry and abusive to this thing if it didn’t give her what she wanted in love and affection or if it had it own needs. How dare it have it own needs. How dare it cry, hit it that should (as she’d say) “shut it up”. She says she never loved dad and just wanted to be looked after all her life, this has been the case financially anyway. I’m sure that she did love him but when things got tough and he had a breakdown she claims she never loved him so she had no responsibility for caring for him. After dad’s breakdown it was all about her, she was the poor wife who’s husbanhad a breakdown. Little S was left to fend for herself. Mum would go away a lot to “get away” leaving little S feeling scared that dad would kill her in the night, he would become psychotic. Little S didn’t know what was going on or where mummy had gone or if she was going to come back. Then when mum came back little S was expected to be excited about her return and love her all the same, she would cry when mum went away and be hostile when she came back. Mum wouldn’t have any of it, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and should be love unconditionally no matter what she did/does.

As I grew up, she was possessive, didn’t like me liking other family members, I was her posession. I felt guilty seeing my my aunt who I love because I knew it would upset mum and make her feel unloved. I remember once to get back at her I made a photoboard and had pictures of me and all of my family members seperately except her, I was sick of how she treated me and I wanted her to know that. If I was upset I hid and cried alone, I would be told I was silly for crying and my feelings invalidated. If she cried I had to comfort her and tell her I loved her, even If I didn’t feel it at the time. Once I just screamed “BITCH!!” and she ran into the kitchen crying and shouted “nothing loves me, I’m going to kill myself!!” It makes me so so angry just writing this, how dare she threaten suicide to a little girl. How dare she play the victim when I was the one hurting and why the hell should I have had to comfort her? But it’s what I did, I reassured her she was loved and then shut myself in my room. I konw what you may be thinking, it sounds like she has BPD right? Well that’s what I think and I said to Dr L that I feel hypocritical getting angry at her for BPD traits but she told me that I shouldn’t because at least I’m getting help and trying to change. Which is very true, I hate myself for my BPD traits and I actually feel guilt whereas my mother seems to feel no guilt and not care about anyone but herself. Now that I am ill, she is invalidating, doesn’t understand why I feel the way I do, she blames herself sometimes and I don’t correct her. As she is correct anyway. She says that she’s able to have a job, she’s able to live her life. This makes me feel worse but then I remember that she is miserable and she only has herself to blame for it, she hates her husband yet she still lives with him and his finance which is incapactiy benefit, while using her own wages for her leisure, why should contribute eh? She’s unhappy. It’s not like she could move out or anything is it, it’s not like she could start a fresh new life without him and maybe be happy. Heaven forbid.

Dad

Well dad has Bipolar, although doesn’t mean his behavious too can be excused. I know pleasantly nice people with Bipolar who love their kids more than anything. I know my dad loves me, he is just unable to show it. I have always been a daddys girl, not neccesarily because he was the most loving but he was the only one who took me out places and always wanted to do things with me. He would love to take me to the farm or to watch football with him and I never remember doing anything like that with mum or her even coming along. I’m never sure what behaviour and Bipolar and what behaviour was just him but everything I did was wrong, If I accidentally knocked something or fell I was a “stupid child” and hit until I screamed and ran away. If i was ever hyper I was told to shut up and stop showing off, I was always such a quiet child. I learnt that if I was quiet then it meant I couldn’t do or say anything wrong. I still managed to somehow though. Not to mention I had no clue until about 2 years ago when I asked dad what illness my dad said and he said “I think it’s Bipolar” and then I actually knew, before then I wasn’t even told what was wrong or what was going on. There is no communication and if you want to know something in the family, you’ll either find out by asking or by asking a million irrelevant questions until something happens to come out. He was hospitlised 3 times and to me it felt like a limetime and I would always cry in my room alone because I wanted my daddy back. I didn’t know what was going on and why everything was so chaotic, I only remember that mum never wanted to visit and always complained when we did go. I’ll never forgive her for being so uncaring. But then it seems as I’ve gotten older he’s realised that if his wife won’t look after him then his maturing daughter can take to the wife role, take him to appointments, do the shopping, put his socks on, make sure he take his meds and the like. Now this has all happened in the last 2 years and It’s the most degrading feeling to have someone tell you to put their socks on and then if you don’t they stress and scream and cry if you don’t. I HATE emotional blackmail and I hate that my mother sits back and allows this to happen, I say to her I don’t want to do it and she says I don’t have to but who else will make sure he doesn’t have another break down, she bloody sure won’t.

I really really am praying (figure of speech) that I can get out next year with J, he wants to go to Uni far from here so we can both just live and get away from this horrible pain, anxiety and stress. We both need to release form our restricting unhelpful parents. He wants to live with me near wherever needed and start a “real” life.

Sure, I’ll have to look after him but the difference is, he will look after me back.

Of course I have the panic of, what the hell will happen to my parents. My mum will surely hate me for leaving her and will do anything she can to be spiteful and childish. Dad will care that I’m going but he won’t show it, he will support my choice and be happy for me. Please let me get out, please, get me out. I can’t die here.

It’ll be sad to never have my parents involved in my life but in all honesty, they have earned no rights to be.

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Dr L: session 9.

November 27, 2010

Well…where do I start.

1) I humiliated myself.

2) I have made no progress.

3) I cried.

4) Dr L isn’t sure what to do with me.

5) With an end I can’t make progress.

 

With the limit of 5 months being set it has become clear to Dr L that there is no possibility to make progress as I am constantly worrying about the end being nigh. With the end being near it means that I can’t do things slowly and will constantly try and get ahead of myself because of knowing there will be an end. Dr L asked me how I felt about there being an ending and here comes the humiliation of bursting into tears and sobbing “please don’t leave me, you’re the only person who’s every really tried and been able to help me”. That’s it, I thought. I’m attached and when the sessions end, I am going to have a nervous breakdown, she’s there for me every week and she’s my weekly constant. I’ve never had a constant. I feel like I can release everything from the week all at once and it feels like such a relief. I just can’t lose that and I don’t want to think about when it’s gone because I’ll feel completely vulnerable and lost again. I can’t bear to be back there again. Even if I’ve made no progress and even if I never do, the fact that I feel safe that I can see Dr L every week would mean I had more chances of surviving this. She said about adding a few more sessions onto the end but I don’t know what that will help. She’s going to leave me at some point. I can’t cope with it. I don’t want to hate her, I really don’t but I know I will be so angry at her for leaving me to fend for myself. Dr SJS doesn’t seem to understand why I can’t make immediate progress. I said I’d had a month of sessions and nothing had really changed yet and he seemed baffled and concluded that maybe CBT wouldn’t help me at all. Maybe his previous patients have progressed immediately and suddenly been “cured” which I highly doubt. He’s so very blunt with me, sometimes it can be quite harsh.

 

But anyway, Dr L, It’s not going to be a pretty sight when I can’t see you anymore.

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Dreaming of Trauma.

November 17, 2010

Well where do I start, I have a long dream last night and it was filled with traumas from the past. Not one, but four. My dads hospitilisation, my bullying, a stalker and being humiliated. The bully and stalker story were kind of put together, I was wandering round a hotel and behind the bar working was D, my secondary school bully. At school i was nervous about turning a corner in case he was there and if he was I would panic and try and go another way, I think my friends felt I was overreacting but I was genuinely scared of him. So when i saw him in my dream i panicked, i was with J so i said who it was but then I said hes probably grown up a lot now, he wont do anything so we went and got a drink. D looked up at me and did that horrible grin he would do when he would laugh at me and said so arent you going to say anything to me? By which I replied I was expecting something from you first, he grinned again and then called me the male version of my name as he would at school and my stomach wretched and I left my drink and ran and every corner I seem to turn he was there. He walked over to me and I fell to the floor and screamed for someone to help me, a friend call Amy who in school was friends with us both and would help me came over and shouted for him to leave me alone. At this point I was lying on the floor crying and shaking. Throughout the dream Amy stayed with me and would ward him off when he appeared.

This dream not only resembled my bullying but also a stalker, at a holiday resort when I was 8 a boy approached me in a pool, he said his name was Phil and he was 13. He asked if i would be his girlfriend and I said no I was only 8. He then got closer to me and said “is it because im mentally diabled?!” he was but not severly and that wasnt the reason. I was 8 for heavens sake. I made my dad take me out of the pool and leave. I didnt tell my dad because as always ive had to deal with my traumas myself as my parents can never seem to help me. I knew dad would have laughed if i told him. Throughout the holiday, phil would appear and threaten me and get mad that I wouldnt be his girlfriend. I was scared to leave my room. I remember crying and praying that I wouldnt see him for the rest of the holiday. And I didn’t but the fear was still there and the fact I still remember it so clear shows how much it affected me.

Now my second dream last night put my dads hospitilisation and humiliation together. We were at a long table, me, my dad and about 6 doctors. We were discussing why dad should be hospitilised. Throughout the meeting my dad kept getting up and saying unusual things or needing to pace, he was manic and occasionally psychotic. I was terrified and said this to this doctors then everyone in the room burst out laughing and someone said through laughter “you’re so stupid!”

I woke up feeling anxious, shakey and broken. My dads psychosis and mania were scary enough. But when people laugh at me it breaks me down. Even as a child I couldnt bear people laughing at me even if i did something cute or funny, the only laughing I’d known was taunting. One family gathering we were playing a game round a big table, it was bill’s go and I said “your go Billy boy!” the whole family burst out laughing and I burst into tears, I was a humiliated little girl.

I spoke with my aunt about it recently and she said that if I did anything sweet or lovely and someone laughed I would fly into a rage and cry. I was shocked to hear this because it just shows how my illness didnt just happen but has developed from such a young age. I don’t know which of the 4 events were more damaging.