PTSD – A Way Out.com A mindful way to heal

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Recently, I did an interview about my baseball career. It was for a college project on a 20th-century man. (If that does not make you feel old)

First question: Tell me about your childhood.

That froze me for a long minute. My brain has this well-developed record, that plays my narrative of childhood. I know it is how I perceive my childhood, saved under duress.

How can you share in words the damage this abuse has caused me? It never goes away completely. There is a void inside me, a feeling of not being good enough.

When you are physically and emotionally abused by your caregivers, self-worth never develops. Constant criticism leads to a flawed ego, a feeling of being worthless at our core.

My memory of childhood is sparse, and limited. My ability to hide most of my childhood back then saves me from more anguish.

These images are hard to share, I bluntly state a few incidents without any hint of nuance.

My childhood is recorded as a black-and-white movie, with short snippets of violence and shouting.

So after the interview, I felt vulnerable and exposed.

Abused kids never like to be judged. I have a sense of fear about what he will write.

It’s part of our disorder, PTSD, fear, and worthlessness.

It’s hard to write and own up to it.

A PTSD life.
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