Posts Tagged ‘Anxiety’

Life has been about enduring pain

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1618549853309899/

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Life has been about enduring pain, enduring abuse, living without ever feeling worthy.

Being yelled at screamed at, then violently assaulted dominated my early years.

Life has been violent since my early childhood, the fear and anxiety never left.

If I had a choice, why would I choose to be born into this suffering?

How many abused kids feel the same way?

At 70, I have suffered a complete life, it is a fact.

Why did we lose the birth lottery, why were we the kids chosen to suffer?

The physical abuse fades, the emotional last a lifetime.

I have always dreamed about being different, worthy.

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The Journey for abused Kids

https://pixabay.com/users/sreza24595-9538179/

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In the beginning, healing was always slow, an amazing amount of time and effort are invested for a small return.

Healing was so subtle I did not notice for months, small improvements were underway.

A trauma event as an adult, brain fully developed, is much different than childhood trauma.

Childhood trauma has a depth, a plethora of unknowns, seemingly unending instances of more abuse.

This creates some big issues.

An adult endures abuse or a horrible accident and develops PTSD. He/She knows what a normal non-traumatized existence feels like.

He/She has a finite, one-off trauma to deal with. Healing is much quicker, much easier with good tools and effort.

His/Her brain is developed and handles trauma much differently than a kid with a brain incapable of handling life.

An abused kid has never experienced a normal life, never known life without emotional or physical abuse.

An abused kid’s brain is altered from that trauma, smaller hippocampus, larger amygdala, and compromised prefrontal cortex.

Our brains are injured and trauma is mixed up with brain development. As an adult, we fail to realize we need in-depth counseling or maybe in-house therapy.

We do not have a basis to understand our life is screwed up.

We have never experienced normal, how do we know what life is like for others.

My friends think I am just crazy, weak, and stuck. They have simple fixes, then question me for not being brave enough or skilled enough to live life as they do.

I wonder how they would have survived my childhood, my dad.

I did not seek help until I was about 60.

We are similar to narcissist, how can we see something wrong with us with nothing to compare it to. Life has always been like this for us, we have not experienced support or attachment or normalcy.

Childhood abuse is a well with no bottom, no end, no hope.

That is how it feels and looks to us at times.

None of this allows us to give up trying to heal.

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When do we decide to stay or quit?

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/402861129176554161/

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In the online Kundalini group, we are working on the inner critic and the goal is to never take what others say personally.

I fail miserably, with my childhood abuse and betrayals, it seems impossible. While the group celebrates, depression takes hold, I can not behave like them, feel like them, or even fake it for a half hour.

Ten people in group celebrate the benefits of letting go criticism as if it were ordering a sandwich.

How can others do what has become next to impossible for us?

Maybe it is the smaller hippocampus, larger amygdala and compromised prefrontal cortex that makes us different, makes us incapable of being normal.

What others do seamlessly, my 🧠 brain can not accomplish.

My criticism is from a caregiver, a complete childhood and his criticism was constant and violent.

It changed my brain, I see it clearly when I join any group.

Joining a group reinforces how different my mind works, how different my thoughts and daily battles are.

I can not even fake joy for short periods.

Finally, at my age, I want the pain to just stop.

I am conflicted, do I stay in the Kundalini group?

Is it doing more good than damage?

How can we decide being inside our traumatized brains.

When we can not perform like all the others in a group, does that separate us more or what?

How do we navigate life, keep going no matter how much we suffer?

At the end of the day I have a decade of therapy, meditation and practice, it has helped tremendously but I still suffer.

I have always been an outcast soul, my father had more control in childhood with me isolated.

Can We change our basic nature?

I have changed some, the evil shit still lives on.

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/611785930635528346/

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A look at my childhood minus the PTSD


My father was from a family of 15, he was in the middle of that order with a paternal twin. My mother was an only child raised Catholic by two atheist.

Yea that’s a weird match.

Mom got pregnant at 16, had me at 17 and that was the end of their high school education.

I was raised by crazy kids.

Mom was a fanatic with religion, dads only interest besides a weekly bowling league was for me to be Roy Hobbs, from The Natural, the greatest baseball hitter ever.

My parents were out there but found a way to exist, divorce was not recognized by the Catholic Church, my mom was stuck.

Playing baseball was his total interest in me. Oh I had to get good grades, be damn near perfect and have my behavior make him look good at all costs also.

He really never had conversations with me, I either did something to piss him off or it was baseball.

He criticized and lectured, we never had a conversation, ever.

If I brought up an idea about me being something other than a pro ball player, Mom would say God made you to play ball.

I did not talk much, fear and self protection were the emotions used for survival. Why would I ever say something and risk his wrath.

School had knowledge, dialogue but it brought social challenges.

You can understand why I was socially awkward, I was damn near a mute at home.

They controlled who I could have for friends and dad did not allow me to date, in his eyes women were a risk to my baseball career.

If he could of branded me showing ownership, it would of been a big bold tattoo.

Years later I returned home from across the country for some event, they could not believe I was a talkative adult. I was an extrovert, who knew.

And yes I moved as far away as I could.

Some of this was abusive but look at their lives.

My daughter explains my mother’s dilemma, in 1950, unwed and pregnant, her future husband was a violent narcissist.

Maybe it was a life sentence for her.

Who knows.

As an old man, I am lost, life has never had purpose or direction. I do not know how to have purpose or direction.

I try to heal a little more each day but life is hallow and has way to much suffering without a purpose.

We all have our challenges.

Any insights, comments or opinions?
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PTSD: Birth is the ultimate lottery

https://www.si.com/nba/2016/10/27/classic-photos-kareem-abdul-jabbar#gid=ci02554da9c0002580&pid=2015

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Looking back after 70 years on this planet, life is harsh even for kids who had great support and love from their caregivers.

Watching a podcast of NBA star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, he described his life as an oddity, sticking out being 6’8” at 12 years old. 7’2″ was his height as an adult, how do you blend in or hide, fit into a hotel bed, buy clothes, or fit in a car?

People always stare and treat you like an oddity. He says this kind of scrutiny drives you inside, into your own cocoon.

Life shrinks for people scrutinized as different or abused kids markedly different in behavior than normal kids.

Now, consider being seriously abused as a kid, criticized and beaten by a caregiver. Think we are not an abnormality, an oddity compared to normal kids.

We do not feel equal to others, we know we are flawed and compromised, dysfunctional and isolated.

I am not saying as an adult I believe any of this now, however it was my reality most of my life and dogma as a kid.

If birth is the ultimate lottery, we lost big time.

The impact of abusing a child, lasts a lifetime, I am an example of this. The ACE study documents the physical diseases and early death that childhood abuse causes.

I am not a victim but I have suffered trying to heal from childhood PTSD my entire life. That is a fact.

At 70, my brain is still trying to cope with a smaller hippocampus, larger amygdala and a compromised left prefrontal cortex, Childhood PTSD disrupts nearly everyday with unworthiness and failure.

I have friends who are happy go lucky, think everything will turn out alright. Their demeanor is relaxed and confident, life seems easy and happy for them.

To say I am envious and amazed is an understatement.

Are they from another planet, how can a brain feel safe and secure, being able to trust thoughts, and finally they trust others.

I have never had those feelings and never expect to feel that way, a little bit of wellbeing and peace of mind are my only goals now.

My life is navigating around my trauma minefield, searching for brief moments of joy while dodging trauma thoughts, anxiety and isolation.

Yes, I have felt haunted by childhood demons, this battle has never receded from my life.

Everyone has challenges, some much greater than others. Whoever makes those decisions is way above our pay grade.

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Coping better is my Goal

Pixabay 愚木混株CDD20

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I do not think there is a cure for childhood abuse (C-PTSD), do not think there is a space where we say, I am healed.

It is possible to learn coping skills, navigate life, and find some wellbeing.

Childhood trauma is hard wired while the brain developed, so it is never going to disappear.

There is a huge difference between actively coping with PTSD and being a victim.

Knowing I will never heal is not an opportunity to give up, the journey is the same, the results maybe different than total healing, that’s all.

I am not healed but my life has both wellbeing and suffering.

Coping is using my trauma skills to minimize PTSD’s impact when activated.

When PTSD is dormant, I Strengthen my mindfulness skills, always preparing for the next battle.

It is a precarious existence, often an internal war being waged inside the mind.

Remember our hippocampus is smaller while our amygdala is larger, combined with the left Prefrontal cortex being compromised.

Trauma will explode from time to time as we navigate life.

Our goal is to live and risk in the midst of PTSD terror and enjoy our trauma free Periods fully.

Our challenges come when intrusive thoughts bombard us at a rapid pace, then our fight or flight mechanism fires, how we handle this perceived threat determines life.

Be prepared, develop as many coping skills as possible and practice daily.

There are no guarantees with childhood trauma, life will suck at times, unworthiness and fear will prevail at times.

We do have a choice, resist or give up, deciding not to have PTSD is not an option I am aware of.

We have to be determined, courageous and have the ability to take action in the face of fear and anxiety.

I have learned not to resent my place on this earth, that is a victims stance.

Life Axiom: Sedentary is closer to death, action closer to life.

Healing takes daily action, suffering arrives without effort.

Our PTSD has Patterns

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/48695239710690388/

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A couple days ago my PTSD reacted to external stimulus, one of those invalidating discussions with a friend.

No, my fight or flight did not erupt, my nervous system revs up some, nothing scary or intimidating.

The irrational thinking part of PTSD takes over. This is my main culprit.

This is my pattern.

A battle between letting the crap go versus engaging the trauma begins.

We have to find reality in the midst of all the PTSD symptoms.

For me, I play defense, refuse to make decisions, discount the anger and unworthiness that PTSD offers.

When intrusive thoughts flow, anxiety arrives and cognitive functions become confusing.

We get lost and suffer.

What is real life and what is trauma? Takes time and practice to decipher this riddle.

In a couple of days the horizon clears back to our PTSD normal.

I always come back, never get lost for long now.

For me, this is most freedom available, being able to navigate PTSD when it erupts.

I have lost my guilt around my abuse, this is a soothing accomplishment.

I take daily action, try to heal a little each day.

Never give up, never give in, this is our challenge.

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PTSD: The reason I am like I am

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

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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.

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Orphan Triplets: separated by class then studied

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1055599892591489/

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My rational mind has no understanding why a certain traumatic event carries such power and fear.

My rational mind has no control over when and how intense PTSD will erupt or last. All I know is my effort to heal this out of control demon.

The irrational, PTSD part of my mind, runs without input from my rational, cognitive side of my brain.

Cognitively, I know normal people are able to let past memories go and move on.

I understand trauma is stored as implicit memory in the right amygdala and also in the body.

The consequences of these mechanisms changes life forever.

The differences between self image, thought patterns, levels of cortisol, anxiety, fear of people, and trust is massive.

The difference between a severely abused child’s life and one who is supported is drastic.

They have taken orphaned triplets in England and placed them in different households to study the impact of childhood. Some were sent to different economic conditions , one poor, one average and one well to do.

They did not tell the kids or adoptive parents what they were doing. This was a study on the influence of class on kids.

The nurturing of the kids was more important than class. A poor foster dad who was devoted to his kid turned out fine.

These researchers were playing God. The kids met in there 40’s, not knowing they had two other twins.

One of the kids placed in a rich home committed suicide, so class is not the only factor.

It’s between biology and nurturing that decides what life will be.

In today’s environment I doubt if you could do such a study again, playing with life for science.

In real life, birth is the ultimate lottery ticket.

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PTSD: what havoc has a year of Quarantine produced?

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Having a compromised immune system, contracting covid could of been fatal for me. I have already experienced two viral immune diseases, chronic fatigue and guillian beret, actually being paralyzed for three months.

With Covid, people presented a real danger to my health, combine that with my irrational childhood triggers, and you have a big mess.

In a way quarantine was the symptom of avoidance being enforced culturally. Since my PTSD erupted over a decade ago, some form of avoidance has always been present.

At my low points avoidance turned into agoraphobia. Now, I am close to agoraphobic again.

Five months into this quarantine an old trauma broke loose and entered my consciousness, my dormant childhood PTSD fired back up.

I enjoyed an almost symptom free period of two plus years. Yes I thought total healing was possible. Now I am at a low point again.

Childhood PTSD presents a calculation for every social situation, risk versus reward, suffering versus wellbeing.

There is no clear cut answer, no right thing to do. Therapy says we need community, attachment, I rarely have felt either.

Some risks turn into damage and suffering, some turn into a pleasant experience.

All risk contains anxiety and suffering for me. Many risks have turned out badly and made further risks unlikely.

My daughter is disappointed that her father, the type A driver, the highly motivated and active man has disappeared.

I am wondering how I kept pushing through my trauma, how I persevered in the midst of emotional turmoil.

It’s hard when we do not live up to expectations from those around us.

I feel shame for how compromised PTSD has made my life, my behavior.

Enjoying life is so far out of reach, I would plead just to be out of suffering.

In the midst of all this, I am venturing out today, going to the coast with a friend, to an aquarium.

Exposure therapy was over for me years ago, now life repeats itself.

Childhood trauma is the gift that keeps on giving, it never dies.

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