Secrecy

Secrecy was a code I practiced for my life. I regret that to this day – Cyntoia Brown

I can really relate to this quote said by that girl, although she was very young.. those words are full of wisdom.

Anyhow. Trauma comes with so much secrecy and at some point I don’t know if I became good at hiding it from others or also good at hiding it from myself. Either way.. I think I’m carrying around a secret. For over a year now. It has nothing to do with trauma! I want to make that really clear. But, it’s bringing me down like hell. For over a year now. I don’t know if I ever even realized it was a secret. Or I don’t even know if secret is the right words. All I know is that nobody, literally nobody knows how much this is torturing me. There are a few people, and by a few, I think I mean 2 (Brandon and a friend of mine) who know that this occupies my mind every now and then… but the joke is, it’s not just every now and then.

I want to get rid of this. But how do I get rid of this, when I don’t ever talk about it?
The reason I’m writing this is I haven’t told anyone because I am SO ashamed of myself. Of this. I couldn’t even admit it to myself. I am very sure people will judge me for it, hell I even judge myself for it! But the shame is very trauma related.. and I know I need Brandon for that. But I don’t want to tell him. It should be simple, living with this pain or just tell someone. I know Brandon doesn’t judge. But I can’t stand this. And I can’t stand telling someone something, or trying to, without knowing the words for it.

It’s all too complicated.
I find myself crying all evening, and not knowing what to do. But I do know the cause. God knows I’ve tried everything. My head feels like a torture device.

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The bags under my eyes are prada

Today I did it. I emailed Brandon. I’m kinda afraid of his reaction. I was very honest. I’m afraid too honest. But a part of me is thinking, how can I be too honest with my therapist? He knows me better than anyone else.

I feel so torn between two parts of me.
The part of me that is real angry and feels like destroying everything “Madness is the gift that has been given to me

& the part that just desperately wants to stop the pain but doesn’t know how “Don’t tear me down for all I need, make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe

Actually they both mean the same. Anger does cover up pain. The basic question in my email to Brandon was; how can I stop/survive/handle this pain?

xoxo
Brianna

If you say so

image

I couldn’t find a reason to stay among the living, so I searched for it among the dead.

Today I visited a cemetery. For multiple reasons.
– I wanted to (as stated above) look for a reason to stay.
– I wanted to say I’m sorry to them, for being ungrateful with my life while (probably) most of them didn’t want to die.
– I was looking for a safe place. A place where it’s actually okay to cry.

I think it did me well to go. I saw a lot of touching things, made me cry, cry for them, the people around them. The hurt they must have been feeling or maybe still are feeling.

I sat there on a bench and did some stuff that was hard for me to do, but it felt easier there.

Though it brought me a lot. On my way home, my muscles still were burning in pain. This rock was still smothering my lungs. I still felt this agonizing pain inside. I could barely walk normal. Or even hold my tears.

I’m pretty sure I’ll go back, I just don’t know when yet.

Paying my dues

I was 3 years old
And still you saw
The biggest evil grew in me
And you had to declaw

A child so young
But yet you destroy
Beat it to the ground
Like an annoying plastic toy

People saw evil in me
When life had barely begun
And its the kind of evil
That can’t be undone

This rock keeps burning
Through my chest
Smothering my lungs
Though I did try my best

Evil so strong
Does fighting even make sense?
I know he disagrees
CPTSD was the expense

Small/big update

Hi,

Have been real busy lately. The fourth family member has arrived (puppy) and it’s really a big job raising her. Last week I was having a real hard time. Feeling suicidal. Had a good talk with Brandon though on thursday. Then I talked to two old therapy friends of mine and I was very surprised of it but it was very nice to talk to them. I actually cried a lot about how bad I was feeling and how stuck I was feeling. Anyway, then I had the final talk at the old treatment centre (as written in my last post).

Saturday I got the puppy and my whole life was actually dedicated to her. But my mind was still having a hard time. A lot of break downs. Calling my mum up in the middle of the night. On Tuesday the two (old therapy) friends came over and we had a lot of fun, talked and had a lot of fun. I felt really supported by them again. Because they knew how hard it’s been on me.

Wednesday I saw Brandon again and at the start of our talk it actually looked like it wasn’t going anywhere. I was totally closed up, but somewhere it turned and shifted and I opened up and we had a really good talk. I was able to talk about the thing going on in my head and I really got the feeling of being able to do this again. (which was a long time ago, I had this feeling)
He told me, which I agreed, that I need to put my defences up at some points.
I saw a friend of mine that afternoon and she looked at me and said ‘your talk with Brandon went well, didn’t it?’ Apparently it was all over my face. She told me she saw me smile again. (A true smile)

A friend is coming over in a bit.

Tomorrow my sister and another friend.

I’m busy, but good busy I think 🙂

 

xoxo
Brianna

Being raised by therapists

Hi,

A very tricky part for me is to explain what trauma does to a developing brain. I’m really not good at it. I’m going to try to give it a shot.
The abuse has been in my childhood for as long as I can remember, and experiencing trauma creates a stagnation in emotional development. So basically, as I see it, I do grow up and learn to talk and stuff, but emotionally I was stuck at the age of trauma. (which also explains the big troubles with emotions, children can not deal with emotions > trauma happened to me at a very young age > stagnation > emotional child)

Anyway, what I wanted to talk about or actually write/type… I feel like I am being raised by therapists. I remember getting into a therapy group when I was 16 and leaving at 17, I was there for 13 months and they taught me some few minimal basic stuff. Like when I was feeling something, I really did not know what the word was, that went with the feeling. They learned me, it was disappointment. It took me 13 months to learn the word disappointment with the feeling (and I’m not even talking about mentioning it while I’m feeling it huh 😉 )

It’s all these kind of small things, that therapists are teaching me. And actually I’m going from therapist to therapist, just switching and hopping from one to another. Bonding and breaking the bond.. hop on, op off.. 😉

Today I had my final talk with Betty (which means I will never see her again) and she asked me what I learned in my 18 months at the treatment centre there, the question was referred to the contact between me and my mother. I told her that I learned to apologize for my behaviour to my mother.
It’s a known fact that my mother irritates me sometimes, mostly it relates to my youth and it’s triggering. Which makes me burst and scream at her.
It took me (yep…) 18 months to learn to communicate with her and to tell her later on (when I’m calm again) ‘sorry momma for yelling at you, I was upset because of ……… but I didn’t mean to yell’
They told my mother to tell me what my yelling does with her and how it makes her feel and to accept my apology.
After that, we’re good again.
(Side note; my age is 22)

I also learned that apologizing for my behaviour does not mean apologizing for my feelings, because that’s not necessary. It’s just feeling angry does not give me the right to yell at my mother and I need to take responsibility for my actions. (Wow, they taught me well 😉 )

So, my biological mother and father can’t give me the parenting I need. But I sometimes really feel like I’ve got a lot of mothers (because most of my therapists are women) and a few dads. They do parent me. I just don’t get to keep them. Which is a shame sometimes.

xoxo
Brianna

Ramblings

I can do it, I am doing it. Living. I’m going out, I actually even smile and mean it sometimes. But mostly I’m not very happy. Especially since yesterday evening. It’s like a dark cloud is pushing down on me, while I try to move forward, I feel it’s pressure.

I’ve known Brandon (my psychiatric nurse) for 1,5 years now, and I think (even though 1,5 years is quite a long time) I actually trust him fully now. I really do. There is a time limit at my new treatment centre and it’s short… I’m actually pooping my pants already because in November I’ll be without Brandon, maybe just temporary, but I’ll be without.
When a part of me right now just wants to cling right on to him. I feel so down and bad right now.. I just want him to ‘make it all better’. The funny part is, when I’m actually sitting in front of him, I’m mostly quite calm. When I’m not, the only thing I do is stare at the ground (while crying) or at my lap, when he asks me to look at him, I refuse. I NEVER search for the physical contact. Or even ask for his comfort with words.

I know there are a very few people who do have a person like that. But if I had a person who felt save to me, in my environment, I’d reach out to him/her and ask for help right now. Tell ’em how I’m feeling and that I’m kinda feeling stuck with it. I know there’s no clear answer or solution, but honesty helps.. and being heard too.. and distraction third. So, in the absence of that person. WordPress is my outlet, I’m gonna make internet or Netflix my distraction wrap myself in a blanket and try to soothe myself and dry my own tears. Because despite all of the shit, I still have myself, and one day it will be okay and enough for comfort.

Ignorance is bliss

Last christmas, I hung 3 pictures in my christmas tree. Of the three people who stood by me the most in 2013. It was my (current) bestie, Justy and Abraham.

I’d say, ignorance is bliss in that situation.

Had I known that bestie wouldn’t be my best friend anymore and Abraham would turn away from me, even after an open conversation. And last week at some point I thought I’d lose Justy aswell, I’d really think ‘why would I even care?’

I had a real tough week but had good distraction as well so it had a lot of balance luckily.

I got the comment thrown at my head from a ‘close friend’ that ‘she is always happy’ (he wasn’t talking about me, obviously) it was a real slap in the face. And to me, freaking unfair to say. First of all, nobody is ever always happy. Second of all, don’t like it? Go away.

I know I got a lot to offer somebody. If you don’t appreciate it, then go away. I don’t want to waste my time, energy or even my tears on people who don’t deserve it.

I have an exciting week ahead. It’ll be my last week with just the three of us, at the end of the week, our fourth family member will join us!
Anyway, it’s planned and packed with loads of stuff. Mostly fun things though and meeting up with people.

Gotta admit, feeling shaky on my legs, I feel the need to cry and crawl away (since it’s evening I’ll just go do that in bed and sleep) and face this new week.

xoxo
Brianna

Plan A or B?

Hi,

So tomorrow I have an appointment at the new therapy unit. It’ll be with someone from my old unit though and Brandon will work there aswell. I’ve got two plans.
By the way, I got to tell, my mood is kinda low. I feel really alone and misunderstood.

Plan A; Go there, throw myself at their shoes. Beg for a hug, and for them to listen to me. To give me some comfort. Cry because FINALLY there’s someone around who understands me and SEE’S me. Praise the Lord. Kiss the ground.

I’m really not kidding.

Plan B; Just do as I’m told. Act all cool. It’s an ‘official’ appointment.  To see if they can do anything for me and stuff.. But anyway, don’t act all desperate.

Obviously plan A is all emotional an B all rational. Now where is C? A nice mix of both.

The appointment will be at 9.30 am. Right after that I’ll meet with some girls from my old therapy group, which probably will be good. They are more understanding.
I feel a major ocean of tears coming up. I better brace myself, and Brenda, although we’ll probably just entwine.

Why tear each other apart?
Please tell me why
Why do we make it so?
I look at us now
We only got ourselves to blame
It’s such a shame

So come and face me now
Here on this stage tonight


Let’s leave the past behind us

What’s come between us?
Only tear drops

 

It – honestly – breaks my heart, to stumble upon misunderstandings, or any kind of walls. Upon mouths being shut and heads being turned. Especially those who used to look and lend a hand.
And just to make it a little bit more painful, it only seems to break my heart.

xoxo
Brianna