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Showing results for tags 'TW'.
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I've been writing this blog for a while now and I have a few observations. Some were expected, others surprising. Occasionally (either while I'm just thinking about what to write or, much less often, while I'm actually writing,) when something happens that reminds me of mychildhood - a smell, a sound, etc) I burst into tears, reminded of how I felt as a kid. It's been happening several times a week. This usually only lasts a few minutes. I feel profoundly sad for the young RR. It's like I'm feeling all this now because I'm allowed to feel this now. Sometimes I don't know what the myste
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I'm eighteen. I've already moved out. At this point I'm living in my bf's grandma's house. I come to visit my mom because she says she has something important to tell me. So I drive a half hour over to the house and we talk. She's nervous. We walk casually out to the garden. It's only a few yards from her horse's fenced in pasture. Crescent comes over near the fence to say hi. It's been a few months and I've missed him. His chores used to be my responsibility. I'd bring him home my apple cores or banana peels from lunch at school. My mom stops the small talk and abruptly I understand why she i
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I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and have come to the conclusion that my mother wasn't just merely neglectful, did not just simply "fail to protect me." She actively sexually abused me. I have a knot in my stomach as I write this. Today was the first time I've ever said that out loud. I said it to my T. I've always thought about it in terms of her being mean and rough and slapping me around. For some reason I've never seen it like that before. I've been thinking and thinking about it and can't really call it anything else. There's a word for it. A heavy two word term. I
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It is a good day. My husb and I are in town at Walmart shopping. I remember we were in a good mood, flirting with each other. Unsuspecting, we casually walk down the deodorant aisle. Like bees we sample some of the offerings, slightly opening the lids just a crack, enough to smell the contents, sharing the ones we liked, then jamming the sticks back in those springloaded deodorant holder thingys. "Do I want to smell like this?" "How about this one?" "Do you want me to smell like this or this? Which one is better?" "I don't know...which do you like better?" I lik
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The worst lies I was ever told were the ones I told myself. They were the lies my shame told me - the goal of this lying was to protect myself, to make the situation seem "not so bad." If it was my fault, I could have prevented it, right? I could have stopped it. If I can minimize the awfulness, then it's not so bad. If it's not so bad then really, did it happen? Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe my pain doesn't matter. Some of these lies I stopped believing a long time ago, some versions of them I held for longer and only recently set these false beliefs free. Here
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I'm a mom collector. It took me a long time to realize that. I'm super good at collecting sweet caring attentive mother-in-laws. At adopting mother-figures and grandmother-figures. I've been married twice, divorced twice, and have had awesome in-laws both times. I still am very close to both of them. Whenever I talk about my childhood, I give all the credit for raising me to my Gram. I feel like my mom shouldn't get any credit, since almost none of the positive things I've learned have been because she taught me. I learned how to be loving and protective despite her best efforts, not beca
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When we still lived in the city I broke my foot. Well, actually, what happened was I pushed my sister off of my dad's lap. He was sitting on a chair in the living room. As punishment he threw me across the room and I hit the wall. I landed and my left foot felt like it was on fire. Mom told me that I needed to stop crying cuz I wasn't a baby. I couldn't stand up. I missed dinner because my mom said "I'm not going to put your plate on the floor like a dog." I remember I couldn't walk on it. I crawled. They thought I was faking it. It took them two days to decide to finally bring me in to have a
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My whole life there has been a safety net underneath me put there by mostly well-intentioned people. The thing is that my whole life the safety net has had some major flaws in it. Holes big enough for me to fall through. One of the tenants of good touch/bad touch education is to empower kids to not keep the secret of csa to themselves. A major problem with this is that some "bad touch" was ok. How do you explain in a clear way that an exam by a doctor is different than the "tickling secret" you have with your creepy uncle? Again, we are back to spanking-yes, Rubbing-no. How do you empower
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When I was little, I think about first or second grade, I came home from school and asked my mom and Gram what an ox was. Gram said "it's like a cow, but bigger." Hmmmm... Mom asked "where did you hear that?" "At school. There was a play." "Was it Little House on the Prairie?" "No, they're saying about good touch and bad touch and don't let nobody touch your privates and stuff like that." "What does that have to do with an ox?" "They said your privates is what's covered by your swimsuit. So they said to tell somebody if someone touches your privates or your
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So, before I jump into this I should ask you, the reader, if you'd like to respond, to please just sit next to me. I'm actively afraid of sharing my story and being belittled or pitied. Please remember that I survived. My earliest memory is lying next to my dad in bed. I am three years old We are in our apartment in the city. My little sister is in a room we share down the hall. I'm pretty sure that my mom is heavily pregnant at this point with my soon to be little brother. She is in bed too, sleeping, I think, on the other side of him. I am curious about my dad's body. He sleeps nak
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First of all I should say that I feel like I'm going to puke right now. Maybe I just won't send this. Yea, maybe. I'll right it and read it and just delete it. No one's pushing me to tell this now, just my head feels so full of constantly analysing and going over and over everything. Can I delete it if I don't like it? Later, I mean. Can I come back and erase it if I feel like I've just gutted myself in front of you all? Everyone just gathered around with a disgusted look on their face, pinching their noses and looking down at the gross wiggly slime covered things I've been carrying aroun
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Hey, everyone. It’s been a while. Well, longer for you than it has been for me. I wrote a blog a few weeks ago and never posted it. I guess I was ashamed of the content in that blog. I thought it was something I wanted to talk about but, I was wrong. Having one of my closest friends tell me how wrong I was…that didn’t help. So, I didn’t post it, but I DID write it. For me, I had just released all my pent-up energy and I haven’t had much else to write about. Not until now, anyway. Things have been…alright, I guess. They’ve been better, but they’ve also been worse. I think in the midst
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njk
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This post has some strong references to ED behaviors. Please don't read ahead if you are not in the mind to do to. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. I stared at this blank page for HOURS last night trying to decide how to start this blog and honestly debating on if I even wanted to post it. Time was fleeting, and I was struggling. It seemed as though all of my efforts to try to collect my thoughts were in vain because simply put – this is hard to write about. I tried to find another topic to write about today – I really did. But there was nothing going on that was worthy and bein
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Hello, everyone! I am hoping this finds you all well. While I am doing fine health-wise, I'm not doing so great with my sleeping. There are some days when I think I've got it all under control and then there are other days when I revert back to what has grown to be all too familiar. While food shopping last week, I found a bottle of NyQuil that is set to expire in three months - it was marked down to $2, so I grabbed it. I have it sitting on my desk as a reminder to go to sleep when the clock passes 2-3am. It sometimes hits 4 before I'll feel tired. Ideally, I'd want to take
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I'm so lost idk what to do. Trigger warning! A few months ago i was sexually assualted. A little background on me I come from an abusive background as a kid and i am not good at expressing my feelings. So To clear my mind I go for walks usually at night when my mindset gets really bad. I really am not able to tell people this part, i'm suicidal. and I have had this mindset since I was 13 and Im 19 now... Going back to what happened a few months ago, I was at my university and it was around 1 am and i was feeling really low and down and like I was going to do something that was irreversibl
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I can't stop it. I can't stop making myself bleed. It's getting worse, it's running down my legs just like when I was child. I don't know why I do it. But I keep doing it I need to stop. It's already so damaged It's so fucked up. I'm so fucked up.
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I found my stepfather grave on find a grave.com. They ask what do you remember of the person. I am fighting the urge to tell what I remember. Him physically and sexually abusing me from 3 to 11. All that would do is start a shit storm. I can't prove it, all it would do is piss of any member of his family who see it and they would go the attack to defend him. And attack me. It would just cause problems for my brother who is still close to his family. I am not,I want nothing to do with them.And my brother would probably side with them. Never do anything irrevocable when angry.
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I have working on trying to remember my childhood for several months now. And I have barely scratched the surface. I can do all fairly accurate floor plan of the house we lived in on the first farm, I have a rough idea of the layout of the buildings on the second farm and a vague idea what they look like . All I could remember of the last farm is just a barn,the cattle pasture, and the creek running through it . On the last farm I have some memories of things happening, just childhood memories nothing traumatic, but I can't picture the room they happen in. I have the memory
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I beginning to get a few more flashes of my childhood, I keep drawing up this picture of a barn on a Hill. I think it's from the last farm. I vaguely remember the layout of the second farm we lived on this isn't from there. Its the only mental image I have of a building from there. I can't for the life of me picture the house, I know I had my own room, I can kinda picture the dresser that was in the room. But I really can't picture the room , It had a lot of books in it . I remember looking out the window Watching E and M unloading Christmas presents the back of his car. Her coming up telling
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Our first farm wasn't very big it was only about 8 acres . there was a creek running through it and a couple acres of trees , for child as young as I was seem like a forest . This is where I have the clearest memories of the "Games". I remember being in my sisters room , all three of us naked on her bed . We wouldn't have been very old , I believe I was in fourth grade , she was 2.5 years older.. I have a vivid memory of her laying on her back with her legs spread and us using our hands to rub each other . And rubbing up against each other. This is when she said the thing about u
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When I was very young at the apartments we lived in when E and M first got married. I was maybe 2 or 3 years old. E aftershave got spilled. one of us dumped it down the toilet .I believe he used aqua Velva aftershave . That's the first time I recall him lining us up naked for interrogation. After much yelling on his part it was decided I did it. Hell I might've . I was laid across his lap naked and spanked. I'm getting flashes of other times I was beaten for something . I think that's when I started being blamed for everything that us kids did to anger him, because I was s
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I find commenting on other people's threads very uncomfortable. One of the reasons I do that it's because as a child I was taught that everything I thought and said was wrong. That I was an idiot who couldn't get anything right. I've remembered after the TBI them getting so frustrated with me because I would have difficulty with spelling. And I remember being told how stupid I was ,what a loser I was, how I was going to be this big gigantic failure. So it's difficult for me to comment on the threads Of course I suffered severe brain trauma, and I'm being told now I was in a coma from
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Since I talked to my brother I had a few more flashes come out. We lived in a house, I believe it was the 2nd farm, that had a basement with a real low ceiling. I was probably only 7 or 8 and my head just barely cleared the joists. I liked playing down because E don't like going down there becuase it was so low. Because I was down there alone I think just me and him were home. I remember him angrily yelling for me to come up. I remember seeing him at the top of the stairs outlined by the brighter light behind him and I remember fear. I remember we were visiting M parents i
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I fully intend on continuing this voyage of self discovery. I am very goal orientated, and my goal is to know, to the best of my ability to remember. It was decades ago 1 TBI and me trying very hard not to remember. So a lot may just be suspicions and vague impressions. As most know on this page PTSD charges the structure of the brain. And the way it remembers trauma. Some of me trying not to remember all the CSA is they blamed me. And I believed them. That I was just wrong. That I was a thing that should be grateful they tolerate me. Yes I know that's a symptom of PTSD. Then
