PTSD: The reason I am like I am

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2462974784923699/

.

.

Growing up in a dangerous environment, my mind was always focused on my father’s mental condition.

Whether at school or home, whatever the task at hand, my fear of my father was stronger than any task.

Any school work or athletic event brought consequences from my father.

My purpose in life was to achieve enough to save my ass from emotional and physical abuse.

I have a hard time with purpose and desire now. My father defined my purpose, my mother told me a God made me to be a professional baseball star.

Being a separate individual was not allowed for me. I was owned, they made that damn clear.

That’s both my caregivers defining my purpose in life.

My parents had no boundaries when it came to me.

My mother never said a word or tried to protect me from the beatings or emotional abuse that would land my father in jail for a long time today.

She actually was the enabler for him.

Now, as an old man, my family denies everything, my mom actually told me dad never laid a hand in me.

I asked her what that giant paddle with all the holes drilled in it dad made at the cabinet shop was for.

What do you do when your mother lies about what they did to you?

It took me years to be able to share my details.

Healing is mixed with bouts of suffering and a huge dose of worry and anxiety.

It’s a minefield trying to feel safe interacting with people.

My daughter does not know how I can be at peace with minimal interaction with outsiders.

You have to live my life, my childhood, experience my abuse to understand.

If you betray me or manipulate me, we are done for life.

Childhood abuse has made me much more rigid than normal people.

I accept that and have no guilt, I did not abuse me.

.

.

4 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Deb on June 18, 2021 at 4:36 pm

    It took decades for me to realize that my mother wasn’t simply an enabler to the sexual violence towards me from my stepfather. She too was an abuser. By staying with him after walking in on him abusing me, she normalized this behavior and made it clear that she agreed with him that it was okay to treat me that way.

    Decades later, after I no longer had a relationship with her, my mother took a lie detector test and sent the results to my sister to give to me. She wanted to prove that she had no idea what was going on in that household. She had rewritten family history so many times in her mind that she was able to pass the test. I guess she thought she proved something to me by taking it. All it showed me was that she’d rather go to such extreme lengths to prove her “innocence” rather than simply admit that she failed me and was in the wrong.

    It’s not just the acts of violence themselves that damage us, it’s all the other stuff that goes along with it. The realization that your own mother didn’t have your back is a hard one. I still wrestle with that today. I’m 67 now, and I imagine I’ll be wrestling with that until the day I die.

  2. I am 69
    And a therapist asked me who did the shopping in my home

    Who cook the food

    At that moment I realized my mother bought and cooked the Lin beans each Thursday that I puked then dad beat my ass with that paddle til he got tired

    Made him feel powerful

    When I grew up I threatened him physically and he backed down like the coward he was

    But the damage was done

    I see why you identify with my writings

  3. Posted by Anonymous on June 18, 2021 at 8:57 pm

    “If you betray me or manipulate me, we are done for life.

    Childhood abuse has made me much more rigid than normal people.”
    I have felt quilt and shame for ending some relationships. But, I will keep putting myself out there, time after time, and the same things happen, betrayal.
    Today, after reading your thoughts, the guilt noose loosens and understanding ‘me’ feels really good:) Thank you.

  4. Hey we are going in circles

    I think

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: