Trauma - Blog Posts
“wdym you didn’t find it funny when i, a complete stranger to you, made a joke about my intensive trauma? someone’s life must’ve been perfect if they can’t even laugh at an abusive dad joke. why didn’t you like my dead relative joke? ohhh your relative just died? well how was i supposed to know? other people aren’t responsible for your triggers, if i make a rape joke and you don’t like it that’s not my problem!”
you don’t have dark humour, you just need to book a therapy appointment.
How to Survive Fourth of July With Hypervigilance:
Independence Day can be rough for Americans living with hypervigilance related issues. The loud noises can make your heart race and your head spin. It may even feel hard to breathe. You’re gonna have to be strong. Fortunately, there are some things you can do to help.
Put in your earbuds. Listening to music will not only drown out the sound, it may also help you calm down. Music has been shown to help reduce anxiety and stress levels by up to 65 percent.
Use noise reduction headphones. If you want, you may even be able to see the fireworks! Just make sure you slip on a pair of noise reduction headphones. They can reduce the noise by more than 70 percent!
Spend the day with someone you love. Just being around someone we love can help steady our heart rates and calm our breathing. While it may still be rough, spending the time with a loved one is likely to make it a little less torturous.
Take a shower. It’s gonna be a long shower, but the noise of the water will drown out the fireworks.
Cuddle with a furry friend. Pets can be hugely therapeutic to people struggling with any sort of mental health issue, and even more so for those struggling with anxiety and ptsd. (Note: this may not work if your pet is just as panicked about fireworks as you are.)
But most importantly, especially for anyone struggling with any past trauma, remind yourself that you are safe. Do something that requires you to interact with your environment to help yourself stay in the here and now. It can be hard to stay in the present when faced with certain triggers, especially if you are alone.
You are strong and you will make it through this. Everything will be okay. I promise.
A couple of other things from my experience:
Unless you know for a fact that they are comfortable with it, always ask before touching them in any way. I’ve had a couple friends trigger panic attacks that way.
If you’re in a relationship try to have some sort of code for when it is and isn’t okay to be super intimate. My ex and I had a color code for what level of intimacy I was comfortable with and he would always ask what color I was.
I often flinch and put my hands up at any sudden hand movement. Don’t get offended if someone does that. It’s just an instinctive response.
Don’t slam doors, stomp around, or make unnecessary excessive noise when possible. It can often cause anxiety attacks.
Never, and I mean NEVER, refer to someone’s anxiety/panic attacks or PTSD episodes as a “tantrum” or “fit” EVER
If I say, “can you not do that? It reminds me of my abuser.” It isn’t me comparing you to them. It’s simply me trying to let you know that whatever you’re doing/saying triggers traumatic memories.
You are not alone and it is NEVER your fault if you are a victim of abuse.
THINGS TO BE AWARE OF WHEN IT COMES TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ABUSED: 💬
we all experience it differently, but these are the most common ones to me.
Since I grew up in a abusive household,
• I could tell the mood to the person who abused me by their steps, and I remember not being able to breathe when the person was mad because the footsteps were fast and heavy. I still get scared when people walk like that.
• I get scared when a person comes home without saying anything to me because it was what the person who used to abuse me did when they were angry at me.
• I still tip toe around the house at night on my way to the bathroom, scared that the smallest sound I make will get me in trouble.
• I jump at the slightest movement because I’m afraid it’s aimed at me after all the years of being threatened and hit.
• I never refuse to help with anything even if I can’t, because I remember what happened when I refused or didn’t answer right away.
• I am very observant because it’s how I got away from being abused for days, I see one thing outta place at home and I know that day will not be a great one. Is everything at place? a day without abuse.
• If a person gets a bit angry, starts rising their voice or looks at me with a sharp look, I feel like running away and never coming back because it’s how the person who abused me would intimidate me.
please, take these things into consideration and be aware of them, it would mean a lot to me and others who also went through the same things. don’t make fun of anyone who acts like this, you have no idea what they have gone through.
if you have other things to add, please do. it’s important to be aware of the things that might trigger people who have been or are still being physically abused. and if you know someone who’s being abused, please help them. it could do so much good for them.
and if anyone ever needs to speak with anyone, just know that you can message me and I’ll do my best to help as much as possible. I’m also here if you need a friend as well :)
it honestly baffles me that Transphobes or general anti-LGBT will be pro Israel anti-hamas... it makes no sense, and as glad as I am people support Israel it confuses me... all the people who hate me stand for a place I could be safe. yet all the people who should love me stand for a place we would be killed... we live in a mad world... it makes me feel so lost... I don't want transphobes to have my back in one way and then not in another... because I'm scared of transphobes for how they see me and treat me and how much trauma they've caused... but I'm also scared of my own community for playing into their hands and giving them a valid reason to think we're insane when before they had none... I don't know what to do... I feel like as soon as the world moves on from the war the transphobes will just turn on me as they always have... so I find it hard to accept they support Israel and hate Hamas...
Fuck fuck fuck.
So I'm visiting my grandma today which means I'm also visiting my stepmom, who doesn't believe 80% of my trauma even happened.
A series of very fucking unfortunates events has taken place. The details are unnecessary. But I'm triggered as all fuck and TRAPPED here until my bus comes, then trapped on the bus for 2.5 hours. All the while I have to pretend I'm fine, like I'm not experiencing feelings about the triggers, like I'm not fighting for my life to keep from dissociating, like my dissociated parts aren't freeeeaking out.
I am so mentally unwell it's making me nauseous.
I hate this fucking place and my fucking brain and my fucking trauma and this fucking disorder. Hate hate hate.
Somewhere, in a dump probably, is twenty year old tape with my skin cells and hair and blood on it, and it fucking drives me crazy that as a teenager, I was convinced there was no proof.
In that mood where I scour social media and the general internet in hopes my stepfather is finally dead 🫠🙃
He never is. Fucker.
Skills you shouldn’t have to learn to survive yet child abuse forces you to:
moving around without making any noise
moving around the place without turning on the light
locking/unlocking doors in complete darkness
staying stoic in the face of screaming, threats, and violence
pretense of being calm even if in deep panic
perfect pretense of being fine even in the middle of breakdown
silent crying, crying without making any noise or even tears
doing physical work while crying or injured and not stopping
sensing when someone is angry or stressed because now they’re a danger to you
comforting and calming people down in desperate attemt to lower the amount of danger you’re in
recognizing a person by their footsteps, or a car by the noise it makes when turning to a stop
turning all injustices and anger inwards and making it into self hatred
hiding scars and injuries
expertly making excuses for marks or scars on yourself
dissociating in a second if there’s danger of new trauma
repressing mountains of trauma
surviving emotionally completely on your own
Common experiences with abusive mom:
hyper fixates on your appearance, constantly makes you incredibly self-aware of how you look and what others are thinking of you
compares you to other people, to show you what you should be more like (or look more like), making you feel like you’re the only worthless person
tries to control and micromanage your appearance, threatens you with missing out this and that if you don’t look up to her standards
uses you as emotional and psychological support
tells you how you are the only one who understands and loves her, forcing you to bear the burden of living as her “support system”
constantly makes you feel guilty for everything that is happening to her, makes you feel as if you owe her to make the world a bearable place for her
shares traumatic stories from her past that you are too young to understand and react to, expects unconditional emotional support and therapy from you even when you are a child
if the dad is abusive too, accuses you of being “just like him” or tells you that you remind her of him when she lashes out on you
also if father or another person is abusing you, she stands on their side or just pretends not to see or notice it’s going on, later tells you it’s your fault
silences your opinions with “you don’t know anything”
shows exaggerated concern for you for purpose of controlling where you go and what you do, makes you feel obliged to avoid certain places or situations so “she wouldn’t worry” but it extends to stuff you would usually be able to do safely, like hanging out with friends or traveling or having a social life
forces you to center her well being and her happiness more than your own and if you do anything for your own good, you will be called out for not thinking of her first
doesn’t feel responsible for providing you with decent meals or wardrobe, doesn’t notice when you’re hungry or lacking in basic resources, but lashes out at you if anyone else notices for “embarrassing her”
or alternatively, is crazy controlling over when you’re allowed to eat, what you’re allowed to eat, and what resources you are allowed to have
pushes you into interests and activities she wants you to have, disregards and criticizes everything you do that she doesn’t like
her behavior towards you changes in public, she becomes must more concerned over how other people perceive her relationship to you, is generally nicer if other people are listening
feigns concern towards you in front of others, in private keeps telling you how you’ll never make anything out of yourself
tries very hard to keep you at home forever if possible, refuses to teach you basic life skills, denies you resources you need to learn how to make something on your own, convinces you that you are in fact, helpless and incapable of survival without her, insists that you be dependent on her
breaks into your privacy, demands sensitive information about your relationships, conversations and thoughts, everything you do not feel comfortable about telling her because you know she’ll use it against you
accuses you of being a failure as a child, for being “heartless” and not caring about her at all, reminds you of everything she’s been thru only to raise you, talks as if she sacrificed herself for you
has periods where she doesn’t seem to even notice you, then in other times is completely obsessed with you and wont let you out of her sight
acts aggressive at times but always with pretense that her violence doesn’t count because she’s not physically able to seriously injure you, disregards all psychological and mental wounds of being assaulted and hurt by your own mother
acts like you’re an extension of her and have no existence or life of your own, refuses to accept any individuality and tries to prevent you from growing up and becoming your own person
makes you feel too guilty to say no to her, uses every social convention to make you feel as if you’re using and discarding your poor mother when all you want is to create a single boundary
refuses to acknowledge any of your successes but brings up your failures as a proof that nothing will ever become of you
insists over and over again that all she does is out of concern and love
My mom likes to tell people that she "doesn't understand" why I don't want to speak to her even though she "gave me so many things."
You paid for those things with my body, mom. Fuck you. Fuck the things.
Here's a thought: if a child begs to be allowed to see a counselor and the parent's response is to prevent them from accessing mental health care because you're afraid CPS will be involved? That's a red fucking flag.
If a kid carries around a window crank and a screwdriver in their bag, tells you it's secret from their parents, "just in case," because their windows have been screwed shut and the cranks removed? That's a red flag!
If a kid tells an adult they trust, "my parent is an asshole and I'm afraid of them," that's a red mother fucking flag.
If a kid wears shorts to school with bruises covering their legs and makes teary eye contact with their teacher through the entire class period? Red. Flag.
If a straight-A student fails an exam, looks like they haven't slept in two days, is holding their arm awkwardly to the side as if it is hurt, and stands in their guidance counselor's office, shaking and crying, convinced that that failed exam is the end of the world? guess what color the flag is. RED.
If a kid passes out after a hot day of outdoor activities and when their parent arrives to take them home they scream at the kid for making them look bad- the flag is red!
All of the fucking flags were red. Fuck.
This was my 4th Christmas without my mother. Every year, I am struck by how much of a fucking relief it is. I was told by so many people that I would regret my decision, that I would miss her, that "she's your mom and you only get one."
I don't miss her. My life has been objectively better without her.
I miss believing I had a mom who loved me, but that started a long time before I cut her out.
I don't miss the panic I felt seeing her name on my caller id. I don't miss her manipulation. I don't miss her parentifying me. I don't miss the burden of caring for her in her old age looming over my head like a fucking guillotine. I don't miss her guilt or her lies or her abuse.
I don't miss her. I don't miss her. I don't miss her. I feel free.
It's like:
Sometimes I want my nanny back even though I know she was selling coke on the side and probably endangered my life, all I remember is her hugs and teaching me to sew and making me snacks and not letting anyone hurt me.
And then I'm forced to reconcile how a literal drug dealer who harboured her fugitive adult son was a better mother to me than the woman who brought me into this world.
I can't believe I'm 31 and still putting pieces together.
Shortly after reporting my stepfather to the police for rape, his father, the man I had called grandpa for a fucking decade, started coming to the burger joint I worked at. I couldn't get a restraining order because he didn't do anything but order a burger and sit at a table directly across from the register and stare at me. He'd leave when he finished his food.
When I told people, their reaction was always "why would he do that? That's so weird." But knowing what I know now, knowing he'd been paying my mother thousands of dollars over the years to keep both of us quiet, knowing he had effectively been paying my mother to let his son use me-
It was just intimidation. Money wasn't keeping me quiet so he wanted to scare me into silence. Wanted me to know he had more power, more resources, more time.
And they did win the court case. And he did scare the shit out of me. So much so that I nearly quit my job.
I was just faulty merchandise to him. God.
Just thinking about how, as an under-medicated, severely mentally ill 18 year old, living 800 miles from the only home I knew with no support system other than the fundamentalist cult I was wrapped up in-
I was supposed to sit in a court room and point a finger at the man who hurt me for over a decade, and know how to explain what he did to me, and remember events I was completely dissociated during, and understand that I wasn't lying, I just didn't have access to all of the parts of me that experienced all of the things that happened.
With an undiagnosed dissociative disorder, I was supposed to explain to a jury why my three witnesses knew different details of different events and why I'd only reported one instance.
As a minor, I was supposed to understand that if I told my mandated reporter therapist about one specific situation, I'd be expected to then disclose every instance of abuse, or pretend that it all only happened once.
As a child, I was expected to behave in a way that "makes sense" to the middle aged, rural, conservative jury of my abuser's peers.
Fuck. That.
Sometimes I have an impulse to just cry and yell and scream, over and over, until every mother fucker hears me when I say how fucking terrible she was to me
She sold me. She sold me. She sold me. She sold me. She sold me. She sold me. Shesoldmeshesoldmeshesoldmeshesoldme.
Sincerely, with emphasis: fuck.
the more time I spend with kids in my husband's side of the family, the more I love these kids, the more deeply horrified I get about my own childhood- about what my mother did to me. about what she let my stepfather do to me. about how many times I was crying out as hard as I could for help, and didn't get it.
how the fuck, what kind of mental fucking gymnastics did she perform to make her capable of this kind of behavior??? how do you look at a child, your fucking child, and think, "yes, i can facilitate the sexual abuse of this minor for the right price." what the fuck.
A Tweet by Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle (@DrDoyleSays):
"When we grow up emotionally neglected, we're vulnerable to a certain fantasy that IF ONLY we can 'make' someone understand where we're coming from, we MIGHT get the care & attention we need. Hence the anxious 'overexplaining' thing."
feeling trapped
i think one of the things i'm struggling with the most is the feeling of being trapped. it's what the majority of my nightmares focus on, either with memories of real events or invented trauma-based dream nonsense, but i haven't parsed out exactly why this is such an issue for me still.
for all intents and purposes, i'm not trapped anymore. i've been out of that environment since 2008. i've been no-contact with my abusers since 2018. i'm married, living in a different county, in my own house with my partner and two dogs. i am the least trapped i've ever been.
though i do feel trapped in my body- it's maddening sometimes, having to deal with my chronic illness and disability on top of this mental health baggage. it's frustrating. but i don't really think that's what the issue is, with this trapped feeling.
i know it somehow relates to my trauma, but i can't put my finger on why my brain feels the need to process this now. what even is there to process? i was trapped. often physically, always psychologically, but like why does my brain keep telling me there is something deeper about this that i'm not understanding? it's like having a word or phrase on the tip of my tongue. there is something but i don't know what.
one of the reasons my therapist suggested writing online, anonymously, is because my trapped feelings can be triggered when i want to talk about my trauma but get stuck in the potential consequences of doing so with my identity attached. my abusers have both, separately, threatened me with lawsuits should i ever attempt to report them again or go public with my story. defamation, libel, countersuits if charges are pressed again. as if i would even want to go through the trauma of legal proceedings, all over again, since all it ever did was make my life harder. that court experience was worse than some of the rapes i remember.
so i'm writing, to see if putting this out into the world helps this feeling. or maybe it will help something else inside of me. part of me wonders if i'm just using it as an excuse to lean into the trauma more, since feeling broken down is more comforting than feeling strong, even now. the pain of it feels safe.
here we go, i guess
my therapist suggested i make an anonymous blog to write about my experiences growing up in an abusive household, because i'm still trying to sort some shit out, and i keep feeling compelled to tell my story. but i can't publicly, because it wouldn't be safe for me. so here we are.
i feel old, the last time I had an active tumblr account was like 2012, lmao. this is weird.
what's the cure for heartbreak?