Last weekend has been challenging. Haven’t been able to really connect with anyone afterwards. Not even my fp. Especially saturday night and sunday morning. My chest felt lik a big cold rock and I felt cut off from everyone. It’s not like I had extreme feelings, like I used to have when I was younger. What was extreme about it was how dead I felt inside. In my mind I was thinking a lot, not even really sure about what. I guess the past and family of course. There were so many questions, mostly I was questioning what was real. The things I thought about my family and my feelings.. where they real? Where the things that happened real? Or did everyone point at each other, as a defense mechanism of our minds. Trying to find a way to deal with what happened. Blurring the truth and now nobody really knows what is true anymore.

When my parents devorced, I didn’t feel anything. For a long time. Actually I don’t remember the year before and the year after the devorce. All I know is that I tried to be there for everyone and didn’t feel my own pain. After that I got depressed and didn’t care about anyone or anything anymore. In both situations I didn’t feel a connection with anyone at all.

Later I started to rebel and I think that this had different purposes. It was a response of anger towards my parents. It was a way to check if they would come and take care of me again like they once did, but they didn’t which only fed my anger towards them. It also was a way to distract myself from the pain I felt, like a way of fighting pain with pain.

If I look at my past this way and re-diagnose myself.. then I would stick to, dysthymia (which is a chronic light version of depression) and complex post traumatic stress disorder, starting from when my parents devorced. Instead of the sexual abuse, that perhaps could be seen as secondary trauma’s. My personality disorder has always been put as primary diagnosis. But what if my post traumatic stress disorder has been the primary problem?

Eugh.. I’m just having a moment of being so annoyed by my obsession with trying to figure out what’s going on inside my mind while knowing it isn’t all that important but I just have to analyse, analyse, analyse… Aaaah!! If you are getting tired of it by now.. try to imagine how I feel. I’ve been going through this endless analysing since I was 13. It makes me want to die.

Ok, moving on.. I think it’s good to also write about ptsd because it’s often very misunderstood.

The problem I often stumble on is that often people think that there is a traumatic event (obviously) and after that, anything that reminds you of this event is a trigger that makes you relive the event in different ways so you try to avoid being triggered and that’s basically it.

I WISH OH MY GOD! I wish it was like that. Fuck..

Nope.. it’s probably far more complex than I am able to express in words..I will probably leave out so much! But I’ll try to see how far I can come in explaining it from my perspective. ‘Cause everyone is different. Just to make it simple..

How can I write about it in a way that isn’t too difficult? Let me explain my brain when it comes to my trauma’s… ONE BIG MESS! There is no A to Z, all the letters are out of order and on one big pile, with letters missing.. or there are too many of the same letter.. And suddenly I’m an adult who can’t fucking recite the alfabet.

So when you say, it’s one traumatic event and there are triggers to that event.. that’s not how it is. I mean, which event? What happened and when did what happen? Which feeling belongs to this event? I have triggers, yes… many. What some of my triggers are I don’t even know. Which trauma is connected to what trigger?! Euhm?? I don’t know. Also when you get traumatized when you grow up you don’t know which parts of you are you.. like how you would be if the trauma didn’t happen.. which parts of you are caused by the mental problems you got as a result of the trauma you went through?? Aaaah! And there a personality disorder is born. So, I think that is the secondary diagnosis.

What I also wanted to say is that.. when you get traumatized you become vunerable in such a way that trauma keeps happening if you are not carefull. Being in puberty and having ptsd and a pd is not a good combination and makes sure you are in no way carefull, especially without parents being around. So here we throw more and more traumatic events with connected triggers on top of the pile. See what you can make out of that now hmm?

So now when I get triggered, often I don’t know which memory got triggered. If I dissociate I go somewhere, but where I do not know. A feeling I guess? While on the other hand I feel nothing most of the time. And the thing that also makes it so difficult is that my traumatic events are all linked together inside of me. So if I get triggered for example there are like three different memories coming up sometimes.. Like last time I described fooling around with my fp and he triggered me in two different ways, right after each other. The first trigger was from another memory than the second trigger. So mentally I was at two different events at the same time and reality being the third. So it’s like three different dimensions at once. I was in my living room with my fp, I was in the bedroom of my first boyfriend and I was in flower field in the summer with a stranger.. and then I was just gone, into nowhere.

Sometimes I’m also with the neighbours or with my dad or with.. and so on and on and on.. Often I’m just gone and don’t even know where I am this time. Like, fuck it, I don’t even fucking know anymore. Just let me be gone.

Maybe when I’m like gone during summer.. I just be gone first. So I cannot get triggered by nothing and everything all the time. No connection. Just like last weekend. Ok, this was enough pain..bye! Then do all kinds of extreme things, because I don’t feel anything anyway.. so fuck it. Self destruction mode it ON! Doing all the things that normally trigger you like hell because now I can’t feel anything, I’m in control, I don’t have triggers YE-HA!

Okay, I’m too fucking tired of being me now and analysing everything. Bleh.

Music: my escort playlist

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