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/ / / *** trigger warning for emotional abuse, self harm, substance abuse and animal abuse *** / / /
(Hello, I'm relatively new to this community, and I've recently discovered that I have c-ptsd. It's been a difficult road trying to figure out why I'm like this, and even now I still want to deny it and pretend it never happened. I know I can't undo what's aleady been done, but I want to try and feel happy and whole for once. I don't want to live like this the rest of my life. That's why I wrote this all down- to make it feel more real and valid instead of just some ominous cloud of bad thoughts. I want to start getting better, which I realized means I have come to terms with my trauma. So, I decided to start here.
I'm so sorry about how long this is.)
My dad and my stepmom made me their emotional punching bag and the family scapegoat.
They hated each other, and my stepmother was more than likely mentally ill (which she constantly denied and refused to get help for). Their marriage was nothing but arguing and being mad at each other for one reason or another. They slept in separate rooms in different levels of the house.
My dad was miserable and she would emotionally abuse him as well. I was 2 years old and hed just gotten divorced from my mom and was afraid to be alone again, so he did everything she asked of him to desperately try and please her- got married, bought a house, had a kid, then another kid- but as soon as she had gotten everything she wanted, she stopped trying to put up even a facade of niceness.
Thats where everything started to get worse.
My dad was prone to sudden fits of rage, in which he would scream/curse, bang his fists on the table, stomp angrily across the house, slam doors closed/open, and act in a generally intimidating way meant to terrify and control. These outbursts were frequent and usually brought on by the smallest things such as talking a little too loud, dropping/spilling something accidentally, getting in his way, or even by some unknown cause. He would also react like this to even the smallest mistakes I made, and would punish me for seemingly no reason. I was always on edge when I was around him and stayed hypervigilant at all times to avoid another blowup.
My stepmom continued to become more vicious in her attacks on me. There was never a time I can remember where I talked to her and she didnt criticize, humiliate, belittle, or talk down to me. She refused to show any physical affection towards me, while she showered my siblings in hugs and kisses. Shed often do nice things for them while making sure to exclude me. I once asked to get a guinea pig- and my sister (who didnt even want them) got two and I got none. Shed buy them nice clothes and gave them rides to school, while I had clothes from the thrift store and had to walk to school. She would talk to me with such contempt and ridicule in her voice, while the others got kind words of love.
She made it no secret that she hated me and that my siblings were the favorites. In fact, she liked to make it very obvious. I wasn't allowed to say/do anything to upset them, and if I did (which was often, as they were used to getting everything their way all the time and would throw a tantrum over trivial things) I was harshly punished. However, if one of them upset me or was mean towards me, they were "just being siblings."
Both of them in their failing marriage decided that I was responsible for what was happening, that everything bad was my fault and I deserved to be punished.
Theyd blame me every time something went wrong, even if there was no way I could have prevented it or known it was going to happen. Theyd often punish me for it as well. My dad would yell at me when my stepmom was mad (even if it wasn't over something Id done) and tell me it was my fault that he was going to be in trouble with her now.
He would always tell me how I need to stay on her good side and be compliant with whatever she says, because otherwise shell punish him for it. Of course, me being a child and having a natural attachment to my dad made me feel sad for him and like I needed to save him from abuse. So I clenched my teeth and endured her taunts and criticism and disdain, only being allowed to respond with the utmost respect and politeness.
I was never allowed to have a say or an opinion about anything. If I was bold enough to dare to state my feelings about something, I'd be disregarded and made to feel like I don't matter.
My dad would talk to me about about how much he hated her or how badly she treated him or what he was fighting with her about. He'd unload all his emotional baggage onto me- make it all about himself while still expecting compassion and sympathy. And of course, being his child, I wanted to be able to comfort him. I understood it as some kind of bonding thing, and felt honored that he came to me with his issues. Obviously, it was unhealthy, but my underdeveloped mind didn't know that. I just knew that it was the only time he talked to me about anything remotely personal.
I also used to get yelled at/degraded by them for asking help with anything. Theyd constantly force me to go do petty little tasks that they could easily do themselves, or even just pointless things for no reason other than to bully me. One time my dad made me go pick all the weeds out of the yard by hand in 90 degree heat, all because he was angry about something that didn't even involve me.
If they told me to do a task and I couldnt complete the task without asking for help, they would become angry with me and make me feel stupid and useless and like I cant do anything right because now THEY have to go do it.
And if I said no? I wasnt allowed to say no, or be anything other than perfectly polite and obedient. Anything less was punished.
And if I needed even one favor or help with anything at all? I was an inconvenience and selfish and ungrateful and didnt care about anyone else.
If I ever showed any negative emotion or defended myself in any way, Id be punished even more. I would get screamed at for what felt like hours on end, and then when I would try to retreat back to the safety of my room to calm down and get myself together, Id be told Im not allowed to go and hide in my room now, and then would be forced to stay in the same space as them. There was one time my dad took the door off my room because he was angry that I was in there most of the time (as it was my only safe place where I could be away from everything happening and pretend I was somewhere else). They would also make me leave my door open at all times as punishment.
I was expected to just accept what was coming and get over it, without showing any signs of emotion.
If I was slightly hunched over or looked vaguely upset or was too quiet or was dissociating so bad I couldnt feel anything, theyd tell me to stop moping around or knock off the attitude right now, or tell me that Im lucky and should appreciate what I have.
As I got older my mental health continued to be eroded away. I no longer knew how to feel emotions properly- if at all. In private I would become upset and angry very quickly, even taking it out on defenseless animals at times. I don't know why I did, but one time I decided I was going to drown a nest of baby birds in a birdhouse with the garden hose. I knew it was wrong, and I was too emotionally distressed to care. Thinking back now, I'm horrified that young me felt the need to act out in such cruel ways. I was so mad at the world and all its unfairness and I think it was a confused cry for help that no one heard.
As I got older still, I turned to self harm and substance abuse to numb the pain. Of course, neither worked. I would show up to school almost blackout drunk multiple times a week, and somehow no one did anything. I would drink at home by myself until I passed out. One time I got really drunk and decided I was going to kill myself. I tried and failed, but never told anyone. 3 years later, I made another attempt that almost succeeded. I was hospitalized for a week.
There were so many more things that happened alongside this, including my mother being physically abused by my stepdad, being bullied emotionally and physically since kindergarten by most of the "friends" I had, changing schools twice, being abused by my stepmom's parents, and a lot of other things. However, I think the abuse I suffered at their hands has affected me the worst. I could fill a book with all the traumatizing things they did to me.
I felt so alone and unloved, like I didn't matter to anyone and all I did was ruin peoples' lives. It hurt so much all the time. I felt like I was so far away from everyone else, like I was tainted. A lot of times, I hardly felt like a person.
Im so used to this kind of treatment I think Im just conditioned to expect it from everyone, even if rationally I know they shouldnt/wouldnt. I have so much anxiety about doing things wrong, saying the wrong thing, being a disappointment, showing emotion, making people mad, asking for things, etc... I live in perpetual fear of being a burden to others. I have distressing flashbacks at least once a day, but usually more. I have constant, unwanted, and obsessive thoughts and memories about past events. I cant remember how old I was or iwhat time frame/context the events I can recall even happened in. I cant eat right or sleep right and I feel like Im starting to go off the deep end again because Im always too afraid to talk about anything.
I convince myself over and over again that Im just overreacting and that what I went through wasnt even that bad or abusive at all, and that I just need to get over it because other people have gone through so much worse. I feel guilty for having the label of c-ptsd, even though I experience all its symptoms and negative impacts- I feel like what I went through was not nearly as bad as what other people with the same disorder have gone through- and that I must just be exaggerating or imagining what happened.
Its really scary to realize just how damaging things were, so much so that I didnt even know how bad it was until years later and lots of unlearning of previous held beliefs/delusions. It was all I knew growing up. It was just how it was.
(So I wrote this all a few hours ago and now that Ive had too much time to think about it Im really afraid to post it. But I dont want to let myself be controlled by fear of their reactions anymore. Ive lived on my own for over a year now, but still find I keep holding myself back due to fear of what they might do/say, and Im so tired of it. I want to feel real again, like I still exist without the trauma that shaped me as a person. )
