Deep Fear of Trust

 I've decided to start going through the symptoms of Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and how they present for me -- because I think it is important. Not only for me, but for others too. It isn't normal to feel these things, but there needs to be more open and transparent conversation about it because it is really lonely sometimes and can honestly make you feel like you  just might be crazy.

But you aren't crazy.

You're just hurting.

So the first one I am going to talk about is a deep fear of trust. 

When trauma is ongoing -- so growing up in an abusive household -- your brain gets rewired for distrust and fear -- so you are always kind of in survival mode. Fight or flight. Your brain actually adjusts to having high levels of cortisol (stress hormone) so you're always kind of on edge waiting for what is going to happen next. And when you can't trust significant people in your life -- i.e. caregivers -- who are to model behavior and relationships for you to mimic basically -- it makes it very difficult to trust anyone.

Hello Anxiety!

So for me -- my memories go way back -- probably as early as 4 and 5 -- to insecure situations.

My dad's moods were ALL OVER THE PLACE. One minute he would be playing and happy and fine and the next he was screaming and throwing things and just being volatile. 

But as soon as his outburst was over -- he'd take us out to dinner or the movies or to the park or whatever.

And you NEVER knew what was going to set him off or how escalated it would get. 

How can you trust any situation when no situation has ever been predictable? And how can you trust people that are also unpredictable? Especially when your little and they are supposed to be taking care of you, not scaring you.

And when I got older -- it was all about placating -- my mom called it "playing along" or "playing the game" -- you know he won't understand and he needs to be right so even when he is wrong, say he is right -- even if he hurts your feelings -- pretend that he doesn't.  You know you're right, smart, capable, not a bitch, not stupid, etc -- so just hold on to that.

So now -- 30 years later -- I still don't really trust people AND I feel like crap about myself because we internalize it. 

I don't trust people's intentions. I don't trust them when they are being nice. I don't trust how they feel about me. 

None of it. 

Which goes back to what I said previously on missing out on true connection with others. Even my husband. And sometimes my kids. Which is depressing. And I get so frustrated with myself.

But I literally can't help it. 

And I have to retrain myself to be able to trust without ever really knowing what it was in the first place.

And if the SMALLEST thing happens to break my trust that I attempt to build -- it is really hard for me to figure out what to do with that and to be perfectly honest it wrecks me emotionally.

It's really, really hard. And exhausting.

But if you look at the why -- it makes sense.

The Problem Is...

 Well, there are a lot of problems when you're dealing with C-PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression...

But to start, a reflection back to my last post about abandonment and self isolation...

The problem with when you feel like everyone is going to abandon you or has abandoned you, and then you end up isolating because you feel like your a burden -- is that you still feel like people have abandoned you even when you're causing it yourself.

I know. It doesn't even make sense when you try to write it out and explain it.

Fear of abandonment and lack of self worth almost means that you go ahead and just help people abandon you. And then you're sad that you're lonely. But then you're worried about trying to connect because you feel like you are too much or will say the wrong thing. 

And I am aware that I am doing it -- but I can't find love for myself enough to stop. And even beyond that -- I'm really scared of being hurt or not accepted. 

If I share too much, will it scare people away? Will people think I am the victim? Will they roll their eyes? Will they tell me I am dramatic? What if I don't focus enough on trying to help THEM? What if I don't listen enough? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I am too honest? What if I am not honest enough? What if I just go with something that is being said because I don't want to stir the pot? What if I stir the pot too much? What if people don't feel like I care about them if I talk about myself? Should I talk about myself at all? What do people think about me really? Are they just being nice?

There are probably a million more questions that go through my head but those are the biggest ones, at least when I actually try to focus in. 

It's really hard to trust anyone when you couldn't always trust the people that raised you.

And when you don't let yourself trust people, you miss out on the potential for connection.

So even people I have known for years, I don't feel like I can necessarily really truly talk to them or even try to connect with them anymore.

And it isn't their fault.

And it isn't my fault, really.

I am scared to do it, if I am perfectly honest. 

And it comes from a really deep place of pain and some really deep scars.

And I am so aware that it can sound kinda dumb.

And I am not at a place where I am over it and ready to test it out completely.

Someone in group therapy last week said that in a book she read one of the passages said something like -- there are already people out there that love you and you don't even know it yet.

And I think there are also people out there that probably love me too but I won't really let them.

Because I don't really love myself always or give myself enough grace sometimes. I just nitpick and get angry at myself for not being perfect and handling everything perfectly always.

Healing process to be continued....

Oh The Drama

I can't tell you how long I have felt that I am an overly dramatic person. 

My therapist even told me this week -- almost every time you go to talk about your feelings, you start with "I know I sound dramatic; or this probably sounds dramatic; or I know I am being dramatic."

Her response was -- Jackie, from what I am hearing, you're not being dramatic -- you're having feelings and your feelings are very valid and you are human.

To be perfectly honest, I met that with an eye roll, like okay but basically I'm paying you to tell me I'm not crazy so mmmk 👍 (Truly not what therapy is, but I hardly trust anyone, so from that perspective, it makes sense)

But I'm on this really intense healing journey so after I eye roll, I try to be introspective.

Is it possible that I am not crazy? Is it possible that I am just feeling things that are valid to me?

I very easily feel left out. The bigger word for that is abandoned. The bigger word feels dramatic to me. It feels gross actually. So I will immediately tell myself -- why on Earth do you feel abandoned? No one ever left you alone for days at a time as a kid or something. Knock it off you overdramatic psycho.

I am a professional at minimizing my own feelings.

If I let myself look deeper, it's because somehow, I have internalized that if I feel left out or excluded from something, I immediately feel like it is because I am not good enough. There must be something wrong with me. I must have done something horrible to be left out. I must be actually the worst. Maybe I'm not a good person. Maybe I said the wrong thing. Maybe this. Maybe that. And then I am left feeling awful about myself. 

I have genuinely thought in the past that people get together and say "Let's tell Jackie she's a good person and she's funny and kind, even though she isn't, but she's so fragile, if we don't, she'll self implode" I've thought that about my friends and my family, because how could they possibly actually love me for me or even like me for that matter, when I feel so very inadequate.

I am extremely aware of how messed up that is -- and yet -- my brain will go there sometimes. It isn't realistic in any realm.

All of that thinking leads to me feeling like a burden -- and who the heck wants to be close to someone who is a burden? I feel guilty for having been at my lowest with people because I didn't know what to do with my feelings. Sometimes they came out as tears. Sometimes they came out as anger. Sometimes I just overinvested myself in other people's problems so I didn't have to think about mine, since I didn't know what to do with my feelings. 

So, internally, I decide -- well then, I'm just not going to talk about my feelings or problems with anyone anymore because no one wants to know or cares (it's super extremist thinking that is for absolutely certain not self pity, because I think it can sound like that, it is actually being overly considerate of others at the detriment of yourself)

So what does that lead to? Isolation and feeling lonely. I, by no means, feel sorry for myself while I am doing this by the way -- I literally feel like I am sparing other people of my "drama", so I deserve to be alone. I just feel sad that I am too much, and if I wasn't too much, then I could have connections with people. But I am. So I can't.

Where does all of this come from?

Well -- that's a good question. 

As far back as I can go in my memories, I never felt good enough. I had to care for a mother with complicated health issues, sometimes alone, as early as 5 years old. I had a very mentally ill father for as long as I can remember that didn't necessarily feel as though he needed to be responsible for me in the way that an adult parent should. And he was pretty abusive and manipulative because of those things. There's a lot to unpack there, but I don't want to go into anymore detail at the moment. I had a lot of responsibilities that I for sure wasn't going to be able to handle as a child, and it became the overarching theme of my life called "You're not good enough and never will be" -- and it was unrealistic for me to BE good enough at these things to begin with. I was a kid.

I glossed over this stuff for a very long time. With "yeah but" and "at least ____________ didn't happen". But none of it was okay. 

There was so very much that was not okay. Even beyond the moments where I just didn't feel good enough.

The last thing I want to believe about myself is that I am an overdramatic and negative person.

But the fact of the matter is, I am just really sad. And a lot of things happened to make me feel that way. And I don't always know what to do with my feelings because I was never given safe space for them. 

Somewhere underneath all of this junk, at my very core, I do think I am a good person and have a kind heart -- and I try to my best to live that out in so many ways.

But other days, it's really hard to believe it and not just thinking I am delusional in feeling good about myself. 

It sucks sometimes. Positively hurts.

But this is the path to healing.

The Mess of A Journey

Today I let myself cry for everything that happened.

For what it really was. 

Without trying to give excuses to behavior and actions. 

Without feeling like I was being dramatic. 

I cried for the pain. I cried for the grief. I cried for real. 

I cried for all of the times that I tried to tell myself "at least"

I didn't try to be perfect. But I did feel insecure in my tears.

Because for years I have tried to cover a wall of ugly wall paper with pretty things and distracting things and lots of things in general to try to forget the wallpaper exists. Or to at least try to act like the wallpaper doesn't mean as much as it feels like it does sometimes.

But it still peeks through.

Healing hurts. And it is a mess.

But it is hopeful. 

Soon new wallpaper will go up -- on a different wall -- in a different place and I won't feel like I need to cover anything anymore.

Time To Cocoon

When caterpillars cocoon themselves to turn into butterflies -- they do not simply sleep and wake up with wings. They have to dissolve into literal goo and rebuild themselves.

I am in the goo stage.

I've told people I am great. I've told people that I am happier than I have ever been. I have been told to concentrate on the good. I have been told to be thankful for what I have and the strength I have gotten from what I have been through and experienced.

I am thankful. For my husband. For my beautiful and crazy children.

And I am utterly sad. 

I am not hopeless. I am not miserable. 

But I am full of grief. 

Grief for my parents. Grief for who they never were. Grief for my children not having the grandparents that I wanted them to have. Grief for what I feel like my parents took from me. Grief for the little girl that had to grow up too soon and had too many expectations thrust upon her. Grief for myself feeling never good enough for anyone. Grief for the friends that I feel abandoned by. Grief for my childhood home. Grief for my family not really being as close to me as I thought they were. Grief for the fact that neither of my parents loved themselves enough to want anything better for themselves or for each other. Grief for their unhappiness. Grief for the hurt I may have caused others. Grief for the secrets. Grief for the abuse. Grief for the life I could have had sooner if I wouldn't have been so completely absorbed in their toxicity. Grief for the fact that sometimes I don't miss them and that makes me feel guilty as hell. Grief for everyone else that I have dearly loved and lost. Grief for jobs. Grief for normalcy. Grief. Grief. Grief.

Some of it is legitimate. Some of it is what my brain has made me think of my own worth over time.

It is true the more you say a word, the weirder it sounds. Grief makes people so very uncomfortable. Our culture handles it TERRIBLY. 

"Remember the good times"

"They're in a better place"

"Time heals all"

"Everything happens for a reason"

"At least ________"

"Try to look at the positives"

It is messy. It is painful. It is sorrow.

I can't even deal with my grief sometimes because of how much gaslighting I experienced growing up. Maybe I shouldn't feel this way. Maybe I am thinking of it wrong. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe I really wasn't ever good enough for anyone.

The common theme of my life and the theme that has made itself all the more apparent the more trauma therapy I go through. I was never good enough. And then my brain applies that to all things. I guess I am not good enough to be invited somewhere. I am not a good enough mother. I am not a good enough wife. I am not a good enough friend. I am not a good enough person. 

In the depths of sadness (that I don't let myself wallow in for too long) I do not feel good enough for anyone or anything.

Right now, I am in EMDR intensives and group therapy for differentiation. And tonight, someone said in group that they just want to be 80 years old and happy with themselves and feel proud of themselves before they die.

And that is when I lost it. 

Both of my parents died at 51. Two and a half years apart. Neither one of them was slightly happy with themselves. 

"My mom died unexpectedly and I really think it was because of how much stress my abusive father caused her. I got to be her emotional punching bag in the last few years because if she talked back to my dad they way she projected everything on me, he would hurt her or threaten to hurt himself. Then my dad decides he can't be alone and abandons his family for a girlfriend. I don't talk to him for 2 years and find out that he died. Alone. And no one found him for 3 weeks. And I don't have time for any of their crap to take up any more of my life and keep me from who I am supposed to be. I don't have time for it and it hurts so much. I've been through too much to do this to myself anymore."

I've been crying on and off since my group ended this evening. I am lonely. I am sad. I am broken. I am goo. I overcommit with the best intention. I am really good at being high functioning nearly every day and pretending everything is okay. I get upset with myself for not doing enough and not being enough pretty much constantly.

But maybe...it's time to let myself be goo. I spend far too much time on trying to be perfect and not enough time letting myself feel things so that I can rebuild and heal.

I share this because *I* need to. I don't care if nobody else cares about what I am going through. If you can't handle my mess, then my mess isn't for you, and that is okay! I need to look back eventually to say "Oh  man, that gooey place was awful to sit in...but oh look at what you built with it. Remember where you were? Remember how lost you felt? Remember how lonely it could be? How good does it feel to not be goo, but to be strong and beautiful now and to believe in yourself on the other side? How good does it feel to be you?"

But right now, it positively sucks. And it hurts. Deeply. Being heartbroken and trying to put your best face forward, faking it until you feel it, does not work. It can't.

But goo. Goo is workable. Goo is hopeful. Even though it feels positively disgusting and uncomfortable. It won't all be for nothing. It can't be. 

My children will know better than I did. Momma is healing herself for herself and becoming who she was supposed to be and that creates something so much better for them. 

Generational curses be damned. 

I think I am ready to let myself cocoon and try not be so much for everyone else and be goo for me and rebuild something better that lasts forever.