My experience of PTSD – 8

That night after my drunk father pronounced that horrible threat of ‘making holes and your bodies’ something’s happened. At first I tried to pretend nothing happened (as I normally would). But once I found myself alone in my room tears started flowing down my checks and no matter how much I tried I couldn’t resist crying.  I think something at the core of my psyche has been woken up. I almost felt like I went through time travel and experienced something I once felt. I went to the very source of pain. The pain I feel today is the same pain but because of multitude of experiences I’ve had since it became something else. The path between the source of the pain and the emotional pain I feel now has become very complex. The pain became multi-fascaeted and for that reason almost unidentifiable. Often, I don’t know exactly what I feel. But yesterday I went back to the very basic state of this pain. I experienced what I once felt as a child. And eventhough that experience was before the pain became multi-fascaeted, it wasn’t smaller. In fact it was significantly bigger. Which made me realise that all these complexities developed as a result of my efforts to minimise the pain. I’ve spent all my life trying to overcome the pain. I’ve used various methods and strategies. And as a result, I’ve become a very complex human being with profoundly advanced system of psychological defences. That’s how I’ve survived. But quite apparently the pain didn’t go anywhere. In stead I’ve become an architect of my internal world. I’ve built something strong and complex – a megapolis with its advanced methods of bringing together an imaginable number of independent parts. I’ve become a strong city with a tall robust wall around it. But like any megapolis my city suffers from high crime levels and the common sense of alienation. Most importantly, it forgot its origins. Yesterday I remembered them. I know where I’ve come from. It doesn’t make me feel happier or better. But I quite clearly felt why all this construction work has began one day. I’ve realised the extent of how much hard work I have invested already. Possibly, that’s why streams of tears were running down my cheeks. I’ve survived. I haven’t broken down despite all the chances. And I guess it’s time I give credit to myself for all the hard work I’ve done so far. I’ve been so busy surviving that I haven’t had a chance to aknowledge how much I’ve done already. It’s about time I do that. The horrible threat I’ve heard that night made me feel like I was five again. And that was very painful. I remembered how overwhelmingly big fear feels like. But I’m no longer five. And I have gained the power to deal with this fear I’ve been conditioned to. I feel enormous compassion towards everyone who’s been so threatened and violated that they’ve lost personal power . Their power has been stolen – it’s a very cruel thing a human being can be subjected to. I don’t wish this upon anyone. And I hope that other victims of abuse, and myself, find resources in themselves to fight for their lives and most importantly gain that power back! One must fight back. In no way this is fair or forgivable. But situations like this are not just sources of pain. They are also sources of personal gain. I’ve learnt to appreciate much more than others can. Every day is a gift. Every positive experience is like a blessing to me. I’m forever thankful that I’ve survived. By no means I’m a winner, but I’m definitely a fighter. I can’t be anything else but that.

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One Response to “My experience of PTSD – 8”

  1. This is such a powerful post. To me at its heart this post speaks of the difference between being a victim and being a survivor.
    When bad things happen to us and we take no action (often because we have no choice in the matter…) we are victims. A victim is under threat and responds in fear.
    A survivor sees a crisis and responds with alarm. A need to take action to find refuge/safety/.
    A victim says I can do nothing. A survivor says I can make a plan.
    We are all victims at times due to things beyond our control. Becoming a survivor means taking the time to take control back – to say “that was wrong, and I will not live this way.”

    You are an inspiring individual.

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