How do you deal with the constant memories?
When I was younger my mom abused me and called it spanking. There were a few times It's was so bad I couldn't catch my breath to cry. Apparently she thought if I wasn't crying she wasn't doing it hard enough. More than once my sister saved me from the worst happening.
In the early 1980s only "rich" people had air conditioning and our neighborhood was decidedly poor. So everyone just had windows open. It was obvious when someone was getting it. When we met at the bus stop or play ground we would sometimes talk about it. Asking if each other was ok and swapping war stories. A lot of times the conversation would shift from painful experiences to funny embarrassing stories. We always ended up laughing and feeling better by the end.
Now sometimes I have dreams of what my mom did to me. Other times it's just a sound or a word that can trigger it. And it's like I'm stuck back in my childhood feeling like I'm in my room alone with no one to talk to nursing my wounds.
So I come here. The closest thing I have to the bus stop to talk to the others in the same boat. I've met a few people on here that I have chatted with for hours. I wish I could say every interaction was a good one. But I count being ignored a good day. I've been attacked so many times on here sometimes I leave for months until I can't take the solitude anymore and come back.
I've tried talking to SOs about it and they all just seem to think I'm overreacting and being dramatic. They yell at their kids and I get instant anxiety. Their kids cry and I get nauseous. Everytime I sense she's about to attack her kids I step in and protect the kids from the same abuse I suffered. This has resulted in them breaking up with me because I'm "not man enough to handle her kids." A few firm swats is OK but when I see the same rage in their eyes as my mom had I step in and try to de escalate the situation and I'm villanized for it.
I can feel myself trapped under the cold wet blanket of trauma as I write this. Between last night's dreams, and several sounds, it's been here all day today.
I wish I knew a place where I could chat where I'm not getting attacked every time I try to turn my serious memories into a light hearted chat. I really miss the bus stop
In the early 1980s only "rich" people had air conditioning and our neighborhood was decidedly poor. So everyone just had windows open. It was obvious when someone was getting it. When we met at the bus stop or play ground we would sometimes talk about it. Asking if each other was ok and swapping war stories. A lot of times the conversation would shift from painful experiences to funny embarrassing stories. We always ended up laughing and feeling better by the end.
Now sometimes I have dreams of what my mom did to me. Other times it's just a sound or a word that can trigger it. And it's like I'm stuck back in my childhood feeling like I'm in my room alone with no one to talk to nursing my wounds.
So I come here. The closest thing I have to the bus stop to talk to the others in the same boat. I've met a few people on here that I have chatted with for hours. I wish I could say every interaction was a good one. But I count being ignored a good day. I've been attacked so many times on here sometimes I leave for months until I can't take the solitude anymore and come back.
I've tried talking to SOs about it and they all just seem to think I'm overreacting and being dramatic. They yell at their kids and I get instant anxiety. Their kids cry and I get nauseous. Everytime I sense she's about to attack her kids I step in and protect the kids from the same abuse I suffered. This has resulted in them breaking up with me because I'm "not man enough to handle her kids." A few firm swats is OK but when I see the same rage in their eyes as my mom had I step in and try to de escalate the situation and I'm villanized for it.
I can feel myself trapped under the cold wet blanket of trauma as I write this. Between last night's dreams, and several sounds, it's been here all day today.
I wish I knew a place where I could chat where I'm not getting attacked every time I try to turn my serious memories into a light hearted chat. I really miss the bus stop
