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GraysonAlexander
1,507 M Little Steps 5
PathStep 40 Compassion hearts48 Forum posts35 Forum upvotes40 Current upvotes40 Age GroupAdult Last activeDecember, 2017 Member sinceMay 29, 2015
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Beaten as a Child, Depressed as an Adult?
Trauma Support / by GraysonAlexander
Last post
 July 9th, 2015
...See more I don't know if what I have is depression, and I don't know if I even belong here.  I haven't been to a doctor about this, or a therapist, never been diagnosed, and never really talked about it with anyone before.  That's changed a bit in the last few days... I think I reached my 'breaking point,' as they say, and finally couldn't hold everything in any longer.   I guess I should go back and explain WHY I think I might have depression, which requires me to delve into my childhood a bit.  (Right?  OH NO!  Another childhood story!  Bear with me, I'll make it fast, I promise.)   Growing up, my mother would 'discipline' me with a 2x4 wooden board for such small infractions as accidentally knocking a picture frame off the wall.  Not broken, mind you... just knocked off the wall.  She would hit me with the board until she either wasn't angry any longer, or her arm got too tired to lift the board.  She also used to tell me that I was ugly, and stupid, and had no talent, and that no one would ever love me unless I had sex with them first.  She seemed positive that I would never amount to anything; and even though she demeaned me to my face about everything I did, any time I accomplished something or was rewarded for something in school, she would take credit for it.  "That's my daughter!  I'm so proud of her," she'd say.  And the next day, I was back to being stupid and lazy and talentless.  Her family - mostly her brother and his youngest daughter - would verbally attack me, making fun of me for things I had no control over.  I was too skinny, too flat-chested, too ugly, etc....  It sounds innocuous, but it certainly didn't feel that way.  Eventually, I learned how to make fun of myself first, and that way, they were laughing with me instead of at me.  I would rather make the joke than be the joke, if that makes any sense.  At the time, I thought all of this was normal, so I never said anything to anyone.   Long story short, eventually I grew up (*gasp* No!  YES!) and moved away and just got on with my life.  I never thought I was depressed, and never talked about what had happened.  I just sort of buried it down deep where it wouldn't bother me anymore, and moved on.  I got married, I have two wonderful children, a lovely house, a car that's fully paid for, and a job that I love.  (I'm a special needs preschool teacher and choir teacher for 4th, 5th, and 6th grade)  Occasionally, memories would bubble up, or I'd hear my mother's voice in my head telling me that my husband can't possibly love me because I'm worthless and ugly; or that of course I messed up again, because I'm too stupid to do anything right.  Most of the time, I can button it all down and tuck it away and just ignore it, and I'm okay.   But lately, I can't seem to do that anymore.  I'm not sleeping, I have no appetite, my temper seems to be getting shorter and shorter, and things that I once loved doing (writing, reading, crocheting, playing the piano, making jewelry, etc...) hold no interest for me anymore.  I still DO them, just to stay busy... but I don't enjoy it.  And I can't seem to get my mother's voice out of my head no matter what I do.   I just don't know what to do anymore.  I don't want to become the apathetic parent that just totally checks out, but I'm afraid that that's what I'm becoming.  Nor do I want to become like my mother, but this shortened fuse on my temper is terrifying.  I can't seem to control it.
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