Relationships That Were Never Wanted

There is a particular cycle each year- I tell myself that the past year was the worst year of my life. But then I think to myself “Wait, wasn’t every year the worst year of my life?” Then I remember, each year WAS the worst year of my life. As far as I can remember, every single year of my life was awful in it’s own way. I can only ever remember the most previous year because that is the pain I am still overcoming. I want to look at a year and tell myself that it has been a good and healthy year. I have not yet gotten to that point.

In a previous blog, I had stated that I had tried to kill myself when I was seventeen (2018). However, I have tried to kill myself twice which is something I will explain in a different post. 2018 was a time in which, I tried to hang myself. This is a time when I finally accepted that my own father was a bully. That same day, I had told him I wanted to spend a week or two outside of the family because I was so depressed. He said to me, “You are either in this family or you’re not. You do not get to cherry pick. If you are away, you will not have access to a car, to the family, or to your phone.” So, that night I tried to hang myself and failed.

The following winter, I stayed in that same house because I would’ve been threatened otherwise and I was too unhealthy to leave. Both of my parents blamed me for each hardship in our home. They blamed me for defending myself. They blamed me for being myself. I was punished for being myself and defending myself. My own father ignored me for days because of the abuse my mother put on us and refused to accept it. He was cruel. He was mean. He made me feel more worthless, just as much as my own mother did. All I had ever wanted, was to be able to go to my parents and hug them without feeling uncomfortable. I wanted to go to them for comfort and love. They gave me the opposite.

In the past year, I had become extremely uncomfortable in my own body and personality, which would’ve been the fault of my parents. In April, I met someone who finally taught me to love myself and that I was beautiful inside and out. I was so unfamiliar with this idea that I experienced emotional flashbacks that were utterly unbearable. I felt as though I would never get through them. Before this, I was a huge fan of taking photos of myself and modeling per say, but at one point that changed. I had come home from work one day and changed into a dress. I put on makeup. These were two things I had not done for months. I was going to have my boyfriend (Jared), take pictures of me. However, this didn’t happen because my father made comments about the way I was dressed and specified that he could see my body through the dress. He made Jared stand from the end of the hallway to help him criticize what I was wearing.

My father, blamed me for my own 10 year old brother telling me to kill myself. My own father threatened to take away everything in my life because I was mentally ill. My own father designated me as a mother because there wasn’t a proper one in our lives. THAT IS UNFAIR AND CRUEL. A child should never have to take over the role and responsbility of a parent. My father neglected me. My father bullied me.

I was molested from about the age of five to twelve by my step-grandfather. There was nothing done about this. My father and mother were both aware of what might have been going on, but did NOTHING to help.

This post is not meant to bash or accuse. This is from a victims perspective. This is neglect and emotional/domestic/physical abuse. I never had parents. I have parented myself and it is a better job than my “biological parents” could’ve ever done. I have no extended family that believes me. That is okay. I have myself and I have those that do believe me. I never deserved to be neglected or abused.

This is Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Flashbacks: Remembering the Pain and Overcoming It

I am creating this post for two reasons, one being the idea that I am able to create a detailed image of what exactly happened during my childhood. The second reasoning, being the idea that I am still working through these memories and it is important that I understand how certain situations made me feel. The more I think about my childhood, the more dramatic & insane it looks to me. I want to make it clear that I am not creating this as a bashing against any family members, but simply as an outlet for myself.

As I continue working through C-PTSD and the flashbacks that come with it, there is a specific memory that keeps sticking out to me. It is certainly not the most violent and dramatic, but, this memory is one that includes my mom following me around the house while yelling hostile and hurtful words. This specific conflict arose over summer, when I began defending myself and siblings more often and confidently. My mother and I were already having several issues and I had communicated with her that I wasn’t going to stay silent about them but that I also needed space. Seeing as she is incapable of civil, intellectual conversation, she never understood these needs. What I write below is every detail that I have been able to pick out from the situation fully from my perception…

I remember earlier in the day I had communicated with my mother about something in regards to the well-being of my siblings, & she used this as a means to verbally abuse me. I went to work shortly after our argument and my mother texted me a long message, expressing how I needed to start being a better influence and that my negativity was affecting everyone in the house. At the time, I was working at Wyndridge Farm and when I received this text, I had to drop what I was doing then go to the bathroom so I could pull myself together. I cannot begin to explain how suffocating it is to have the urge to cry because of your own mother, while also being at work.

During the shift, I texted my best friend Sara and told her that I would be staying with her that night. I drove home from work in tears and I was only focused on going to my house, packing a few days worth of clothes and then leaving. However, this is not what happened. When I got home, my mom immediately followed me up the stairs and badgered me with questions, as to why I was so ‘unhappy,’ why I was so ‘cruel,’ why I wasn’t a better ‘influence,’ why I wasn’t more ‘put together,’ and why I wasn’t being more ‘helpful.’ Keep in mind, I was already practically parenting her kids at this point. As I continued moving to my room, I told my mom that I just needed space and that I wasn’t ready to talk.

Furthermore, it was at this point in the scenario in which she followed me into my room and continued to scream at me for starting so much drama and being so unhappy living there. I began hyperventilating and in between breaths, telling her to give me space. She stayed in front of me continuing to yell at me. I collapsed and my entire body was numb/tingling, while I kept my face in my hands. She told me I needed to get myself together and then left my room. I finished gathering my clothes and went over to Sara’s in a very distressed state of mind.

This situation is only an example of the kind of treatment I endured from my mother. There were many cases in which she was physically violent. Looking into her unremorseful face is what made this so damaging. My mother is the reason for the majority of my mental issues today and though I feel I have moved through a lot of it, I still have much more to work through. There are memories still to go through that cause me distress to think of. However, I find relief in sharing my experience and validating it. For the longest times, my emotions and personality type were seen as irrelevant and invalid.

When these flashbacks occur, I cannot predict how it will make me feel or for how long but it is typically unpleasant. It is mentally exhausting at times, seeing as I have no control over when it happens but I know that this is the single most important part of my healing process: remembering the pain & overcoming it.

Finding Contentment through Mental Recovery

Over the course of the past two weeks, I have made it a goal of mine to specifically focus on my own well-being. As I have expressed thoroughly on this page, the source of most of my anxiety is having constant concerns about my siblings and whether or not they’re okay. To an extent, it is okay to worry about others, but what I failed to realize for a while, was the idea that one must also focus on themselves.

At the beginning of February, I was experiencing a level of anxiety in which I had never experienced before. Each day, I found myself realizing more, and with this, it brought many unpleasant flashbacks and memories. Seeing that I struggle with C-PTSD, these flashbacks caused anxiety attacks and a suffocating feeling of not being able to stop myself from crying. I did not understand why I was experiencing these things so frequently, and did everything to remove them from my thoughts. I had made so many positive changes to my life, including; meditating, eating healthier, therapy, exercising daily, hydrating, yoga, proper sleep schedule, spending time outdoors, and spending time alone. I was at a point, in which, I thought this feeling would simply never end.

During the time in which I was experiencing this level of anxiety, I found it best fit to remove myself from the environment I was in. That environment, being my own home. This was rather confusing for many individuals to understand, considering I had already made many other positive changes in my life, however, it was a necessary change to make. This change in environments, was truly necessary because I obviously did not see the toxic pattern in which I failed to differentiate my own needs, from the needs of others. However, I was able to differentiate the emotions between either. I felt so overwhelmed with the idea of not being able to help all of my siblings, that I forgot to love myself in the way I needed it most.

As I began planning for this change in environments, I considered admitting myself to a mental health facility. This is something that I would never have even considered, until I had reached the point that I did. I felt so at a loss and such a need to be completely alone, that I contemplated isolating myself completely from society. Overall, the idea sounded appealing to me because though I had never experienced being in a mental health facility, I needed more than anything, to be alone. I mentally and physically could not handle the pressure I was experiencing. It was at this point, I decided to confide in one of my closest friends; Cat Zeranski.

I discussed with Cat the point I was at in my life, and the love that both, her and her family showed me, is too great for words. They showed me an endless amount of support and love, as they knew my situation and realized the importance it was for me to get mentally back on track. I truly cannot explain the amount of appreciation I have for this family, because during the time I was there, I learned what it truly meant to take care of myself. Certainly, I was doing many things to physically rejuvenate myself but my mental state was deteriorating every other asset in my life. I returned all of my belongings home yesterday, and though the environment is not as comforting as the one of Cats family, I reached a point in which I have found pure bliss and contentment.

After the week and a half, in which I was away from home, I was able to focus solely on my mental recovery. Though I still have mental obstacles to work through, I am finding more and more each day that I am beyond capable of this. I am truly content & seeing as I am still living at home, this feeling will only grow once I move out of my house. A specific goal I have at the moment, is moving out. As much discouragement that I have gotten, I am so excited & determined. There is a true misunderstanding between my level of capability and the credibility that I receive from family members, teachers, and coworkers. But thats okay, because I am happy and doing well, which is something I have never been able to say, up until this point, completely truthfully.