Is it a trauma or not? To me, it kinda feels

@givemecoffee

Can I say that I am sitting here too and you have my support?

You're 1000% right! I can empathize with your rant.

It's impressive how a tv show can 'affect' me. I am watching Crazy ExGirlfriend (season 3 right now, and omg) and it makes me question certain things and also because it has a comedic value to it, it doesn't let me overthink them. Seriously, that show has been helping me when I get numb. But it reminded me of how, when I watched "13 reasons why" it was when I first questioned.. if I got sexually harrassed/assaulted, etc. Until then, I tried to push it as normal, because people told me to. "Oh a teen boy touched you? that's normal, they are stupid and immature" but it wasn't like that, and even when my friends shared how in middle school a guy lifted up her skirt and was same thing - I was trying to explain, how it's not same thing, but I wasn't able to. Some memories got blocked, I knew something else happened but besides the actual scene, I didn't remember it. And then, middle of an episode, boom - memory. Of how one them threatened to rape me, by whispering into my ear how it was only a sample, how if they got me alone "they would do more". I had nightmares, flashbacks, and it all made sense. I mean, this last part only is now. It makes sense why I started shaking and panicking if I was them in a school or university campus. I kept telling myself "it's stupid that I am scared of bullies" - because they weren't JUST bullies. I was going through some old journals from when I first went to university before dropping out, things I had forgotten about because memory issues. Of how, on my first week, I saw one of them there and my classmates got confused. I went from laughing at a joke, to pale and shaky, they started to look around and try to ask me what had happened. I had just met them so didn't want to tell them "oh hey yeah I have issues"

Well, this is why I refuse to see season 2. But funny how I remembered this over this new show which by the way, is great - nothing compared.

Also short update:

- Had one of my worst breakdowns in therapy this week, cried and sobbed for 90% of it. Left still with my eyes red and swollen so some people looked at me weirdly

- Have been trying to fight this depression relapse by staying busy and focusing on my projects. I would say is working at a.. 20% level. I am doing 'something', but still not as much as I wished. But something is more than nothing

- I also don't know if I had posted about this realization before I HATE my memory at times, I'm unable to remember if I said something or if I didn't, unless I write it down. Sometimes I can, but not most times. It's why I love my bullet journal.

Today I realized I got into automatic "fake mother-daughter relationship" mode when around family, and that's just.. crap. What usually happens is, most times when visit family the women go to one side and the men to the other, so I join the women's side for 2 seconds without thinking, share a laugh and then it's like the switch went and I get up. As if mentally I go "I've done my job, time to leave". I guess may seem weird, but it's just like this since I was a kid, especially at one of my uncle's.

When was my grandfather's house, was different. As soon as I went inside, I waved and went straight to the room I would watch TV in to not face anyone. Since got forced to stay there all day because of my mother, I would make sure she knew I was forced. I never left the room. Same as when family came home, I was never around my mother. In the computer. But other family members? Her friends? I got used to pulling it off, the smile/soft laughter when she says a joke, sitting there as an acessory. If it's family, I stand up and walk away after. If it's her friends, I just hope time goes by quick.

It's funny how I've always done this, never actually realized it. Or better said, realized how instinctive and quick action it is. Also funny how I realized days ago, she didn't (ever) know what I like. Not even what food I like or not. I know I'm a picky eater since birth, but my rules rarely change: desserts can't touch so only eat one type at a time, fruit shouldn't be peeled nor cut up, no banana in fruit salad, no boiled carrots or cheese, no water in juice, etc.. these things never changed since I was 5. She still doesn't realize them. I know it's minor, but it's like "all mothers know their kids". All good* mothers? Also, I was REALLY a picky eater as a kid and I still am. But can't tell you how "cringe" it is to me, to see someone eat pudding, mouse, ice cream, fruit salad, jello, cake - all in one plate and it mixing. As a kid, going to weddings and buffets during dessert time was a nightmare LOL I just got chills. HOW CAN YOU ACTUALLY TASTE THE CAKE, COME ON

I shouldn't feel like this, I shouldn't struggle, I shouldn't call this "trauma", I shouldn't hate my family, I shouldn't feel my childhood was bad

People have it worse. DAMN, a LOT of people have it worse. I had friends whose lifes I considered worse than mine. I was their listening ear, I was the listening ear to everyone, I know everyone's secrets and I keep them since I can remember. I was my family's and friend's listener, and that sucks.

I still feel I force my mental health issues, but its in days like these: when everything is pointing to go okay, when I wake up fine, I am okay great working, busy, happy, doing yoga at 9 am, breakfast, washing my hair, making art, making lunch, cleaning the kitchen and still at 2 pm a deep emptiness hit. By 3 pm I didn't feel real. By 4 pm the TV was on but I didn't really pay attention to it and by 5 pm I felt would explode of pain. No trigger, no memory, no nothing.

I don't know anything anymore

I am workingb SO HARD on being okay, but seems okay is impossible for me

But my life isn't bad enough for me to not be okay. My mental health isn't bad enough for me to not be okay. SO WHY AM I NOT OKAY

I mean I am and then I'm not and that's what I hate. I hate this inconsistency, this yes/no, this absence of black and white, this existence of multiple shades of opacity in grey that means absolutely nothing when you compare it with reality.

Just had a memory pop up. Flashback of sorts. Not sure if had mentioned it before, but this time was just way too real to ignore

I am 11 or 12, I think. We're driving home from my grandfathers, and I had told my dad a previous event where my mother completely ignored my emotions and put herself/her family first. As soon as we go in the highway, he tells her calmly "please take into consideration (my name), she is your daughter" to which she replies in anger, and defending herself over nothing. The conversation escalates. The car speeds up, to over the limit and I start to notice something's wrong. Both my parents are arguing, and suddenly my dad yells "stop lying. We are NOT your family, we don't matter to you" - she replies in anger, saying how that is hurtful, how she cares, how all she cares is about us. He replies "lies lies, all lies, you don't defend her, you don't defend US". The car starts going slightly in S's, and we're going over a bridge.

I just remember closing my eyes and holding tight while holding onto the safety belt (I never wore one), praying we hit so the arguing stops. (it's so real right now, I think I may cry). At one point, my mother realizes how fast we're going and she yells "slow down, slow down" - but he is angry, he is angry because of what I told him about her. The rest of the way is she yelling how we could've crashed, how careless he is, how he doesn't care if she dies. When we get home, she opens the door before he parks and runs home to sleep. We stood inside the car for a minute in silence, and then left.

In that car, there used to be a small space in the backseat, if I hid my face well no one could notice I was crying. So I would push myself to the right side, and tilt my head to the right and back, pretending to be asleep - just to cry. Many times I did that while they argued, usually about something my mother or her family did, that hurt me. I would also let my hair down, to hide tears.

I see the scene of the bridge repeat in my mind. How he took the hands off the wheel to prove we weren't going to crash, how she yelled for him to stop, saying "you have a death wish, but not me". How years later, I would on purpose bring up stuff she told me while in the car, so could force her to listen - if was at house, she could easily pick up the house phone (she didn't have a cellphone) or go into another room, you can't do that in a car.

I can't say how often those car-arguments happened, but I can say that they're all a blur and mixed together. I don't know what to make of this.. maybe I'll sleep. I haven't had flashbacks in.. months..

WELL WELL WHAT A LONG POST

(just a big angry, been holding in feelings all day and they just hit, I am also avoiding any negative things during the day for last week so there's a lot of .. stuff)

I found a jornal that I wrote describing the first days in psychiatric hospital after my suicide attempt years ago. I had forgotten most of those years, memory issues, so it shocked me to read it and especially the part where I described the note I left in my room:

"Mother, don't blame yourself it's not your fault. Father, you should've done something. Best friend, don't do the same thing, don't give up"

And the sad truth is how, the way I feel about it, the way I felt that time, explains my life and my childhood. It wasn't neither of my parents fault, but those months my mental health got so terrible and my paranoia was the worst it ever was - and people didn't help. Having my family everytime I went to meet them yell in my ears how my dad is to blame for everything, being pushed into a corner and told I am a devil if I like my dad. It drove me to hate him, and whenver I asked myself why would I hate him, I would panic because didn't know WHY. I didn't ever hate him for hitting me - be scared of him? Yes. Hate? No. I don't hate people that easily. But go tell someone who easily gets paranoid that you should hate someone, and see what happens. I tell you what happens: they doubt everyone around them.

My mother contributed to panic too, to a lot of it. Claiming she could see my future, tell me she saw me and my friends together until our marriages, saying she knew I'd date my crush, claim had psychic powers. Do you know how HURTFUL it is to tell someone with paranoia that everything will be perfect and dandy? It's adding fuel to the fire. And when I asked her not to tell me those things, because I would rather focus on "now", she would yell and say she knows all about me. That she "can read my mind".

And this SUCKS. Because I will always carry this guilt, and this ANGER that my family relatives have indirectly caused that episode and don't even care. No one sees harm in telling someone since they are a child that satan's blood runs in them, no one sees harm in telling a teenager that they can "read into their future" and see they will kill or hurt someone (thank you mother, really big thanks), no one sees harm in telling a child that they are planning their parents divorce, no one sees harm in pushing a child into a corner and yelling "HATE YOUR DAD or we hate YOU" , no one sees harm in laughing when that said child claims is hurt, no one sees harm when that said teenager is crying how everyone hates her - and the worst? The only person in that family to defend me was my father, and I knew it. But then they would go and literally - yes literally push me into a wall and hold my arm - while saying I should hate my own father or I am the worst person alive. THIS IS NOT OKAY, DOES ANYONE SEE WHY THIS IS NOT OKAY. Does anyone see why this would make a 13 year old leave and slam the door behind or yell "I hope I am able to erase your surname of my name for good".

Does no one care that it took me years to break away from that shit. When I say I am easily paranoid, it's because I am and took a lot of self-awareness and therapy to reach to a point where I KNOW I am getting paranoid before I do. And to erase the damage my family did, hurt a lot. Especially when my second therapist was one that believed families could do no harm. Was only when my current therapist looked deeper that I cracked away from my paranoia: my relationship with my dad got ten times better, we talk about deep stuff, he has apologized and acknowledged his harm and it HURTS that it's my fault because I made him guilty. Could he have some blame? Yes, like everyone else and myself. But to actually BLAME him?! That's what paranoia DOES. That's what a naturally nervous child when faced with multiple small traumas and a possibly mentally ill mother in a dysfunctional family ends up in. A MESS

And I am honest when I say if people weren't so bad when it comes to inducing negative thought processes, maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe I would've stayed stable until my psychiatrist appointment and avoid a psychiatric hospital stay which by the way didn't help, since they kept preaching "love your family, they're perfect" and trying to point my problems to something else instead of looking deeper. Do people not realize their words can harm? Saying such and such is perfect/horrible just for saying. Saying random sentences because they feel are harmless.

I am really really upset and I am trying not to be. More and more I see how these people affected me. And I know deep down it's good, it means I am breaking away from their lies - but it's not an easy realization. More and more I wish I was just like them, that my mind wasn't "this" but was "that". I would be healthy if I could be dysfunctional like them and not give two damn. My family members don't give two cents if their drinking affects someone, they even brag about how high their alcohol level was when got stopped by police and how almost lost their license or how many times crashed their car with a big laugh. While I'm here, fighting urges to hurt myself via injury or pills so I can be a functioning adult and instead falling asleep in panic and breakdowns and waking up numb because that's the REALITY. And yeah so far succesful for some time, but let me tell you doing this on my own isn't the easiest of things.. and I can't wait to see my therapist next week, only problem is: I've become detached from her. I detach from people after sometime to avoid hurt.

I find it really hard to throw old journals out. I started keeping diaries/journals when was 8-9 years old and in total have about 7. Or had, since threw away a few of them, but only the ones that weren't exactly full. I was cleaning out the trash and old things from my room, reorganizing, and since had already thrown away a lot of past things I held onto for no reason, I felt "how about tackling my journals". The moment I opened one, I felt like crying - on the first page I had drawn my grandma with a cross on top and a "miss you", and on last page had a "my grandma who I miss very much" with an arrow pointing to a drawing of us holding hands. That was shortly a year after she passed away, max year and half.

Also some journals I mentioned the worst of my mental health, how my paranoia hit. How I got ridiculed in middle school but excused them as just being "funny" until it got physical bullying. It's funny how people often claim those who get bullied just can't take a joke: I was the joke since I was 7 years old, and most times I would just laugh. People could make a circle and shame me top to bottom, and I would still laugh nervously and say "it's what friends do, right?"

I wanted to throw all of them away, every single one. But I couldn't. I was afraid that one day I would feel hurt but not know if it was real or not, since that was the reason I kept making journals - so I could know, was it real or not? Did I really felt hurt, or was it all a lie? Throwing all of them away would be like saying "yeah, you made it all up". And even reading some of them, I can see how I tried to make my days better than they were, I tried to cheer myself up by brushing over the pain and focusing on the good. And it's sad. I was 11 and instead of saying "I hate my birthday because I got hit, and everyone ignored me" I wrote "today was not good *describes situation in detail* but it's okay. Tomorrow will be better" and then flip page and describe my friend kicking me out of her house and giving me silent treatment for nothing. And the weirdest is how most entries I wrote "oh I feel so good! I hated it!" I say how I felt - when was those situations, I didn't say how I felt. I just described the facts. Maybe I'm reading too much into it

Like the day my mother travelled for a few days to visit her sister and left us home. I didn't write about how I worried her plane would crash and had nightmares, or how odly familiar being in home with only my dad was - as if was normal. I remember telling myself that, I remember watching the plane go and thinking "what if it crashes and she actually dies" and feeling nothing. And for a 12 year old, at the time, it was weird how okay I was, how accepting I was. That I didn't take it as anything. And instead I just went to school like nothing was.

It's funny how one of my earliest memories of writing journals is the fact I was using a random agenda, and one day my dad came home with this beautiful notebook - it had a japanese art feel to it, with the sillhoute of a geisha, and it was always one of my favorite art styles. He never bought me gifts, so for him to get home with a hardcover notebook wrapped into tissue paper.. was a surprise to me. It wasn't for any reason, that was the thing. He just noticed I liked journaling and planning, and decided to get me an actual journal. I don't think I threw that one out, because of the cover.. I just put the remaining 3 into the same box with my old writing notebooks, to clear up space.

but yeah, throwing away journals/diaries or anything? even if they're just negative, they are still difficult to part ways with. And it sucks

I'm considering dropping therapy all together. For past months I have associated my therapist with my mother, which is something I tried to fight at first - but now, the fact she is trying to put silver linings in anything.. Being pushed to just "accept" isn't a good process. There's also the fact everytime I tried previous to bring up things that hurt me - like boys sexually harassing me, bullying, rumors - she would ask "why are you talking about it now, it has happened so long ago". As if my mind can get over things so quickly, especially things that when were HAPPENING, I had no one to talk to for years and how after it was long gone every professional responsible to listen told me "wasn't important". It's the "it wasn't bad enough/it was too long ago" theory..

Emotionally you could say I am okay, one of the most "triggering" period is way past me, so yeah. I was putting my hopes up for Christmas, and thinking the year could go smoothly but chances are it won't *slow clap* Moving on.. What can you do but keep moving on..

I had some cute memories today from childhood. Those are still bittersweet, because I wish I could go back to those moments when I didn't second guess things.. until I did. It is so confusing to look back

I keep falling asleep daydreaming that I have a "friend" and my ex best friend knew her, and both are discussing me.. and my "imaginary friend" is explaining why I reacted in some ways.. I never told anyone everything, not even to that best friend which was the one person I could say I have shared most with about my family. And it's such a toxic way to fall asleep, let me tell you. It's so toxic to keep subconsciously attracting people to your mind, hoping to find them. It makes me more and more think of a thought I kept having in my early teens:

Nobody stays enough, they eventually hate me and go away and forget me. But I never forget them. I still remember their birthdays, favorite color/hobbies, how their voice sounds even if it's over a decade over, details like that.. And it sucks, because this has been on my mind since I am like 10. But I can never know if its "trauma/childhood" related, "mental health" related or "imaginary" related. I mean, how can I know? Is it normal for 5 year olds to fear parents leaving? Perhaps. Is it normal for 10 year old to fear people hating them and leaving, so becoming a people pleaser instead? Perhaps?

In the end, who cares. I feel like I talk and talk and talk about childish things, meaningless, and repeat myself and no one cares. I feel like I have no reason to claim "I suffer" or "I suffered" because someone has it worse. And I hate that statement. It's just too much, but I don't know what I need. I mean, I know: I need relationships, I need people, I need friends and a restart even if just slightly.. but that's not easy to do, its made to believe its easy.. but it's not. You need luck more than you need hope