The Truth Hurts, Secrets Revealed

This will be the one to start it all. You see this journal entry has been a long time in the making. Writing has always been a much easier way for me to communicate. Maybe because when I am writing, I have time to be in the moment with my feelings. I am also usually alone, so my thoughts and feelings are not being pulled in a million directions. Being able to communicate was what made the videos so powerful. For once, I was able to speak my truth. I had never really done that before. Everything was always a secret.

I grew up in a good family. We lived in the suburbs, in a safe area. My parents were careful and protective. However, I still experienced a significant amount of childhood trauma.

Why am I sharing the truth

I have spent an awfully long time hiding a huge piece of myself, of my story because I was terrified. I have come to realize, that the reactions I imagine in my mind are far worse than any reality. The way I see it, I cannot lose.

My heart has been telling me to make a video about this for quite a while. In fact, I have tried to make one at least half a dozen times. I always chicken out during the filming or the editing of the video. But I think I finally made one that I can post without having to edit it too much. It’s raw and unpolished but it is me. It would mean a lot to me if you could take the time to watch it.

Truth Be Told

The Truth is #Metoo

Do you know the #metoo movement? Well, #metoo. Once you have been victimized like that, you are far more likely to be victimized again. And I was. Over and over, by multiple people from the ages of 5 – 19.

Sometimes, I’m still in Denial

The struggle is real! One of the things that keep me from healing, is that part of me refuses to acknowledge that this is real. I have been telling myself that I am some deceitful liar. I have (in the past) chastised myself for telling these lies! Sometimes, I would almost have myself convinced. I would start to really believe that all that bad stuff did not REALLY happen. Of course, that meant I could never be happy (more on that later) but it did not matter. I did not care about throwing myself under the bus if the sacrifice kept my world from falling apart.

Is there a part of me that thinks I am lying? Hell ya! Or maybe it is just hoping I am. Or that I wish I were.

Triggers Galore

I know I am not lying. Because occasionally, (sometimes more often than not) something triggers me. It is not always anger, sometimes it is fear or sadness. But whatever it is, I feel it far more intensely than I ever thought possible. I wish there were some way to help others understand. When I am triggered everything feels overwhelming. The memories that flash through my mind and the feelings that engulf me are VERY real. I feel these things in ways I never consciously allow myself to feel them. I react in ways that are disproportionate to the event by normal standards.

This shouldn’t bother me!

My son loves to “scare me.” He does it on purpose because he thinks it is funny. I have told him several times that I do not like to be scared. It is never going to be funny to me. But you know how kids are. One time he got me good. I mean, I felt it to my core. This, unfortunately, resulted in me going into a tirade about how I have told him time and time again that I absolutely HATE being scared, especially on purpose.  Because for me it most definitely NOT fun.

He laughs because it is funny to see me scream and jump very high in the air. Meanwhile, my heart pounding in my chest. And then I cannot breathe, I feel like I am suffocating. I flashback to every time that I was terrified. Being five years old in the dark, that time in that place. Flash after a flash of, well, you can only imagine. Even worse than the “seeing” is the “feeling.” I feel all the feelings I have been repressing for years. Sadness, fear, pain. That is a whole lot of stuff to pack into a millisecond. And it is too much, and I explode. They do not see the struggle in my head, they just know that mom is unreasonable. I am not sure they believe me when I tell them that I really do try not to be that way.

The Revelation

That kind of leads me to my next topic. Why can’t I ever be happy (Wondering why some can’t “just get over it”?). This is the big revelation that I had on Friday evening which prompted me to finally talk about this. You see, back when all of this started, 5-year-old, little me, had the unspeakable happen. Instead of thinking of it as a trauma that was done to me, somehow, I made it my fault. Like I chose it or caused it to happen. I know that is not logical; the little kid is never at fault in those kinds of situations. But for myself, I did not see it that way. I told myself that it was my fault because if it is my fault it is because I chose this. And if I chose it, then it was not done TO ME, so it is less devastating.

I know this logic is full of holes, but that is how it is in my head. The logic continues. What kind of sick person chooses these things? Ergo, I am a bad person. Because I am a bad person, I am not allowed to be happy. Only good people deserve to be happy. Do you see the problem with the logic? The very thing that has kept me going all these years, is the very thing that keeps me from being happy. I know the logic is illogical. But, somehow, that does not stop it from being true in my mind and in my heart. But it’s progress.

Sometimes, My reactions just ruin the whole day

It feels like triggers are constantly bombarding me. In fact, I got up this morning overly excited to start my day. I love the program that my kiddos are using for homeschooling! There are so many cool hands-on activities for us to do together. I was excited about studying and teaching the different types of rocks and how they form (heat vs pressure). One experiment called for making fudge. Another called for 3 different types of baking chips (white chocolate, peanut butter & chocolate). It was going to be a lot of fun. I was happy and excited and that should have been my first warning.

I went downstairs and the first thing that I noticed was that my oldest was off-task (I had asked her to do something, she had agreed to do it, but she hadn’t started yet). Now, this is seemingly insignificant. BUT in my head, there are so many red flags going up.

Because I have endured so many traumas at so many stages of life, I have a bunch of ill-conceived coping and safety concerns and techniques.

Me, Myself & I

See, the mom part of me Is thinking She is not listening to my words, she is being disrespectful, she doesn’t respect me as a parent. Ergo, I am a bad parent and thus I am a bad person.

Another part of me says “She is disrespecting me as a person. She does not value me as a person because I am incapable of the simplest of human connections. This makes me a bad human. Ergo, I’m a bad person.

And another part of me “She is not following the rules, people that don’t follow the rules get hurt. I must keep her safe. If I cannot make her listen, she is going to get hurt. When she gets hurt, I have failed as a parent. If I fail as a parent, I am a bad person.

This is what goes on in my head in one fraction of a second.

I KNOW these are illogical. I KNOW the truth. Sometimes when I am in a good place, I can nip it in the bud before it gets going too much (my inner monologue “Ode to why I suck as a person”). Sometimes I cannot stop it, but I can stuff it down enough that I can be some semblance of “normal’. My success at that greatly depends on how well I can regulate at the moment. Sometimes, it happens and before I can stop it before I can think, I lash out with verbal jabs. This was one example of one minor interaction, with one trigger. Think of all the times your kids do not do what they are told. And I have a million triggers (or at least it feels that way).

Even with the truth, I am worthy

Thanks guys, this is going to be the new face of my channel. Me, emotionally honest. Me, vulnerable.

Like, share, and subscribe on social media. At the very least, it should be interesting. Thanks for reading and I hope you are having a good one.