It felt so normal to me. Then why they would touch me. And make it hurt. I always thought it was normal horse play and stuff. Also because most of my uncles would touch me there. I didn’t realize I was sexually abused until highschool and I learned about it in a psych class.
I was in denial but then one of those uncles was gonna come to life with us and my aunts told their kids “don’t let uncle E touch you there” or “don’t stay alone in the same room as your uncle”
So I guess they always knew it was happening. That it wasn’t actually normal.
So why didn’t they protect me? Was I not worth protecting.
I tried to talk to my sister about my abuse and she called me dramatic and that everyone treated me that way. She basically tried to guilt me.

I just spent half an hour sobbing and trying to hold myself back from yelling "I hate you" because a story I read forgave a character who set up another character to get assaulted was forgiven. I don't understand, I have no memory of actually being assaulted and only vague feelings. I feel like I'm cosplaying someone else's trauma, even when I'm alone and it happens.

Does anyone else struggle with the fact they can’t read their therapists face or expressions? And if so have you spoken directly with them about it?

I’m not sure if it’s a CPTSD thing but I’ve been seeing my therapist for nearly 6 months and I like her and she gives off all green flags of a good therapist but I find it unbelievably hard to be vulnerable with her and not feel what I’m saying is stupid. I realised today that a big part of it is that she’s very neutral with her expressions. I can’t read her at all or read how she’s receiving what I’m saying. I think outside of therapy I realise I’m very good at reading micro expressions and it gives me a level of confidence and comfort when speaking to others as I can see how the conversation is going…. It’s almost like I’m a little wary of her because (I know she not and it’s her job) but I feel like she’s holding back and that makes it harder to trust her and then for me to feel ‘safe’? Anyone else had similar and got any tips?

Anyone has this thing happening to them? The first time it happened, it sent me through a spiral and I was so hypervigilant for a week because I didn’t know how they found my contact. The way this person belittled my appearance, accent, and job before they ghosted me back in the day took me 2-3 years to get over. I was so scared that I just froze and ignored them. I didn’t even dare to block at the time because I was afraid of retaliation (Now I know it was me catastrophizing). After enough time passed and I felt safe enough, I thought it was just one weird person and moved on.
Now it has happened about 5 times with unrelated people in my past and they just kept popping up out of nowhere. It felt so weird and intrusive. I blocked every single one of them now. I wonder if I was such a doormat back then that a lot of them thought I would always be available for them no matter what.

I used to push myself and went to school even after hanging myself.

I covered my bruised face and neck with makeup and went to school.

Nobody told me I can skip school for a day or rest, so I never stopped.

But my symptoms kept getting worse. I started hallucinating and got more and more suicidal.

I realised that the reason I want to die, want to hurt myself and the reason I'm anxious was because I was pushing myself so hard when my mind and body were telling me to stop and rest. So I stopped. I started thinking even if I fail this exam, I can take it again next year. I don't have to risk my life to get good grades. I will rest when I'm exhausted and not be anxious because I'm not studying. I reminded myself that dying or hurting myself or pushing myself and destroying my brain is scarier than failing an exam.

I don't feel irritated by others' words anymore. My body is still very heavy and I feel down, but I'm not anxious. I think I don't have to push myself to hurt myself/do painful things to myself.

​

Hey, a bit of a long read but I need to put this in writing.

I was "used" as a kid by an older man and looked up to him as a father figure. Around grade 10/11 I realized what was actually going on and was devastated. I became depressed and my mental health began deteriorating.

I'd go through these phases of high productivity then back to depression, which I now know to be bipolar 1. Crazy ass manic episodes are very fun in the moment, until..... you're down a couple thousand, banged up from climbing trees and jumping down, eating every berry you see on a trail because 'hey! That looks yum!" I look back and laugh at those. Some berries are no joke, akimbo projectile vomitting and a water gun out the back lmao. Lots of good stories.

The mania is an artificial high, it feels amazing first couple times but then leaves you drained and not getting quite the same high but you need the high to not feel depressed. Slowly becoming a shell, an empty shell of yourself.

1.5 years ago I had demon telling me to kill myself, he wouldnt leave me alone, I argued and resisted that voice for over a month, until I actually considered it. He never came back after I thought about suicide without him.

My suicidality has been off the charts ever since and I've had a serious attempt 7 months ago that had me in the icu. I jumped hospitals in different cities to see if someone could help stop this madness. They could not really help, quite a few were harmful. I tried many different meds (actually took them)

A week ago I had a brief break in reality and was convinced that my left arm was an invasive creature that needed to be chopped off. Thankfully for those 5 mins I didnt have access to anything.

Im back to being on the edge. Ive been pushing it back day by day, but I think Im going to give in. This is too much. Friends and family have no clue, the grooming taught me that anyone who shows care or is sheltering me is doing it to get access to my body.

I dont really know what else to do. The childhood abuse has trapped me in a cycle of making it really hard to accept help, always being very cautious, and never letting them get too close. Then I reach a point where I shut everyone/thing off. Im not in the slightest open to going to the ER, calling a line etc. But I need outside help.

Like bruv is you stupid? The juxtaposition of my mind is wild.

I've been struggling with mornings lately, and I'm wondering if anyone else has experienced something similar or has any advice.

I've finally gotten to a point where falling asleep and staying asleep aren't really an issue anymore. I take a combination of meds at night that help with my nightmares and make it much easier for me to fall asleep. It's just the waking up part that I can't seem to figure out.

Waking up early seems to trigger a fight-or-flight response in me. I start feeling foggy and disconnected, almost like I'm running on autopilot. Sometimes, I don't feel fully conscious of what I'm doing or have a clear memory of it afterward.

Other times, I'll genuinely think I've woken up and started getting ready, only to find myself back asleep in bed later. I can't tell if I slept through my alarm, woke up briefly and fell back asleep, or somehow thought I'd gotten up when I hadn't. It's honestly frustrating because I can't always trust my own recollection of what happened that morning.

I do have a history of dissociative symptoms, so I wonder if that's part of it, but I also know there could be other factors involved.

I'm really just looking for advice on how to make mornings easier, wake up feeling more grounded and present, and actually feel awake enough to start my day. Has anyone dealt with something similar? What helped you?

I'd especially appreciate any practical tips, things I should consider looking into medically, or ways to make waking up feel less overwhelming. I'm open to suggestions because I'm honestly not sure where to start with this.

I don’t know if anyone can relate to this, but every time I am drifting off to sleep or just letting my mind wander, I have visions of horrible or gory things happening… I am so desensitized to it at this point that I think it’s familiar and that’s why it goes through my mind
I remember once on edibles, I started to zone out and have vivid daydreams, and I started seeing myself get shot to death on a loop. This was the first time I really realized that it was a habit - it’s one of those things that has been happening for so long, that I didn’t even realize it was a thing.. if that makes sense. It’s just a part of my brain that doesn’t turn off.

If I hear a story, or watch a horror movie with a particularly gory scene, it becomes part of my permanent collection in my mind. In this way, I feel incredible empathy and I often visualize/ feel traumatic experiences as people are telling them to me. *trigger warning For example-my brothers girlfriends dad burned to death in a house fire and for days afterwards, I couldn’t stop being him in my mind.

I had another weird realization as well… I almost think my mind started doing this as a defense mechanism, as other people’s trauma is never quite as vivid and life changing as my own(to myself). When one of my first traumatic events happened, I remember that event playing over and over in my mind. It feels like my mind plays theater in the background out of habit, and it has an affinity for whatever is shocking or disturbing. I gradually started replacing the traumatic scenes of my own with others, and now my mind is constantly looking for content to play in the background, to replace whatever trauma has happened…

Missing my trauma bond with ex gf where it felt like the only safe space to be vulnerable and share my CSA experiences. But that was a decade ago. I wonder if I should open up my childhood trauma that way.

--

Context is this: My mother abandoned me long before I was old enough to understand what abandonment meant.

When I was around 10 or 11, I was first sent to my godmother. What began as something presented as innocent play gradually became something deeply inappropriate. She started wearing fewer and fewer clothes and would often make me undress, too. It was framed as playfulness, intimacy, and togetherness. At that age, I didn't have the understanding to question it. Her affection felt maternal, comforting, and intoxicating. I thought this was what being loved felt like.

As time passed, the boundaries disappeared. I went from being a child who was supposed to be cared for to being treated like her little boyfriend, then her little man. By the time I was 16, she was calling me her man. I genuinely believed we were something like a couple, as we slept together and did the things adults in relationships do. Looking back, it's difficult to reconcile the child I was with the role I had been conditioned to accept.

I'm ashamed to admit that I became clingy and needy for her affection and sexual attention. Much of what happened involved kissing and other forms of intimacy rather than penetrative sex, but that distinction doesn't change what it was. I had been taught to participate in something I was never supposed to be responsible for. Even when I became aware that it was wrong, I couldn't simply walk away. By then, we were discussing it as though we were lovers facing a problem together, as though the world was against us and our relationship was something we had to defend.

I had no safe place to confide in anyone. I was terrified of losing the person whose affection I had been conditioned to depend on. When things became overwhelming, gifts and affection would draw me back in. I learned to confuse love with compliance, intimacy with obligation, and being wanted with being worthy.

It wasn't until college, when my first girlfriend told me that what had happened to me wasn't okay, that I began to see things differently. Therapy brought the full weight of it crashing down. The anxiety, confusion, and grief were overwhelming. It took years to begin accepting what had happened and to understand that I had been a child, not a willing participant in an equal relationship.

I didn't always mind it at the time. Some of the affection felt good. Some of it felt like the love I had been missing. I wanted to be wanted so desperately that I accepted things I couldn't understand. For a long time, I thought those feelings somehow made me responsible for what happened. I'm still learning that they don't.

I think what hurts most is realizing how deeply my fear of abandonment shaped me. I was so desperate not to be discarded again that I became whatever I thought someone needed me to be. I mistook being needed for being loved. I thought that if I gave enough of myself, if I didn't ask for too much, if I made myself useful and desirable, maybe someone would finally choose me and stay.

I'm in my 30s now, and I still struggle with the shame and isolation. I dont have anyone I can talk to about any of this. Sometimes I grieve for the child I was. Sometimes I feel angry. Sometimes I feel nothing at all. And sometimes I still find myself wondering whether I somehow invited it, whether I should have resisted more, whether the fact that I wanted affection means I have no right to call it abuse.

Yesterday I spoke to my neighbor about an issue had he responded to me in a very condescending way. It made me feel so worthless. I cried for 4 hours. Drank 2 drinks. Cried again today for hours.

I want to sell my place and move, but that will take some time. In the meanwhile I am dreading seeing him again. I am worried how the interaction will go and what it will do to me.

The next time I see them can I just say that "I do not want to interact much, I would like some space"? Is that weird to say to someone who lives about 5 feet away from you?

How should I deal with this?

I don’t know exactly how to explain this. I don’t mean this in a context of hyper vigilance or feeling unsafe. I mean I feel like I’m losing myself when I have a busy day (just studying all day by myself) or if I’m just out and about going from one class/event to another or constantly socializing. Because I’m not constantly thinking of my thoughts, feelings, inner world, etc like I do on most normal days and that’s what I have done most days for years of my life now. Anything other than that makes me feel like I’m losing myself and feels so weird even if I’ve had a somewhat happy and fulfilling day. It leaves me in this weird place where I’m not fully happy isolating (because I feel somewhat empty), but I’m also extremely reluctant to change it because it’s so comfortable and familiar and any change feels disorienting and akin to losing myself. Why does this happen?

i don’t really want to go into details here, just really struggling to sleep more than usual tonight and hoping i’ll feel better if i dump out my thoughts.

i feel like i am cut from the same fucked up cloth as my father and i’ve begun to accept the good in myself that i recognized in him, but it’s constantly eclipsed by hand me down flaws. every single self perceived failure or mistakes made, even if it’s minute, feels like further proof that i’m walking in the same footsteps that haunt me. it’s difficult not to convince myself that the sheep i see in the mirror is only willful blindness towards the wolf hidden underneath. to acknowledge it only makes me hate myself but i can’t suppress these feelings easily and i know i shouldn’t anyway.

i don’t know how else to describe it other than feeling like i’m lying to everyone and especially myself. rationally i know i was just a child trying to survive, and the things i had to do weren’t my choice. there’s still that thought in the back of my mind that i’m an awful person and that i deserve to feel every morsel of guilt. i remember times when i was a kid my mom would say i’m just like my father and each time she said it, she made it clear that she was disappointed in me for things i didn’t quite understand at the time. it’s worse now even though he’s been dead for years, the older i get the more i see him when i look in the mirror. i’m tired of living my life feeling as if my entire being is just an extension of a dead man that tortured me for half my life. it’s worse when i miss him for a split second, and then the guilt feels more valid.

hopefully this makes sense i am just so exhausted but sleeping is so hard

I am wondering how people know if they have experienced CSA / what the memories feel like.

I have a memory of CSA by my Dad that I re-remembered at about 13 years old, but I can't quite understand if it is real or not. The memory came back to me when I was 13, I am now 25 and it has haunted me ever since. I have my whole life tried to mentally "delete" it whenever it would come up but now I just don't know what to do. As a teenager had multiple really intense breakdowns because it was just in my head and I felt like I could feel it. It is constantly in the back of my mind and will like flash up, and will especially come up if I'm having sex, and I dont enjoy masturbating because of it. I really dont know what to do because even though I have it I can't shake this feeling that it might not be real and that I'm just making it up. Its been a mental battle for over a decade now, and I have thought about asking my Dad but I am really scared to do that. I also don't know why I can't remember more and it is all just confusing and overwhelming.

When I look at my behaviour/experiences as a child they match up with someone who has experienced CSA. I started masturbating very young, had knowledge of sex at an age that was really too early to know about that stuff, I started self harming very young, I have always had really intense nightmares, was very hypersexual as when i was younger but am now scared of sex, had UTI's as a child frequently, etc.

I am just having a really hard time believing it is real, and I feel like it isn't because I haven't always been able to remember it but then one day i did remember it, but I am having trouble believing myself, but then also if it's not real then why do I even have it in my head and why can I feel it?? I am just confused and if anyone has experienced anything similar please let me know.

I feel completely detached and feel like an empty shell of myself. My mom and brother are financially dependent so they have to live with us. My brother is violent that I woke up and had to run to my neighbors backyard for safety last night because he beat my mom for no reason. My mom is completely draining me and sharing a room with me because she’ll threaten her life or threaten to destroy mine if I don’t give her money or something. I would leave but I’m only 19 and still in college so there’s really no where for me to go right now. I feel completely detached, I just wanna die because I feel nothing, I was feeling optimistic about life but I’ve been working so much and school stuff that I feel like I have to die to escape this life. I was taken away for neglect when I was 15-16. I wish I could’ve stayed with that family. I hate my family so much for making me feel so drained and empty and for not allowing me much sleep. I hate my mom for abusing me and for always telling me about how she’s going to kill herself when I’m already stressed and tired about my own life. Mom I dont need to hear about how you will do sexual things for money and how you’re gonna go lay on train tracks. I hate my brother for being violent and insulting me. And I hate my dad for not doing anything about this no matter how much I beg to leave this situation. I hate my family.

M24.

When I was 12 I was sexually assaulted by an MTF/trans person. On top of years of verbal and physical abuse at home, it completely wrecked my ability to trust people. I’ve spent most of my adult life on high alert — constantly scanning for red flags, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and keeping everyone at arm’s length.

I’ve had romantic relationships, but actual friendships have been almost nonexistent for a long time. It’s especially hard with other men. I just can’t fully relax around them the way I can around women. I recently made a new female friend who’s genuinely great, and both she and my wife have told me the same thing: I’m missing out on good connections because I stay so guarded.

I know they’re right. I can feel myself evaluating people instead of just being present with them. It’s exhausting and lonely. Living like this is so stressful.

Has anyone here managed to turn the hypervigilance down after similar shit? Therapy, habits, mindset shifts — what actually helped you start trusting people enough to build real friendships? Especially interested in hearing from guys who struggled more with male friendships after trauma.

my parents despised me, but they are capable of loving their parents and our dog.

ex did not respect me and abused me instead of showing love, but was very sweet to our friends and his baby brother.

my friends all took the ex's side and don't care about the abuse, clearly capable of loving him and each other

I don't know where I belong here anymore. It feels like in 20+ years I've never known a person who loved me. I was a complete loner in school, and the few connections I have made I was always expendable or unimportant or didn't fully fit in. I feel like there is nothing for me here, only sadness

Background: I(25NB) live with my slightly abusive grandmother and now my abusive mother has come to live with us again. This house is a very, keep your head down and everything goes okay household. Talk or fight back and it just inconveniences everyone involved.

So now that we have the background let me get to the part that pisses me off. I go to complain to my boyfriend(24M)(went through really REALLY different trauma)and his advice is only to fight back. If I fight back I get kicked out or yelled at(which I'm so TIRED OF, FUCKKKK) so I tell him that won't work and he just??? Seems to be really irritated???? With the fact I won't stand up for myself?????

Like don't get me wrong I stand up when its important but the shit I'm talking about is the usual abuse people go through you know? The shit where they wanna get under your skin and make you feel bad about yourself. It doesn't really affect me anymore other than pissing me the fuck off and leaving me in the most sourest of moods.

I've explained to him why fighting back doesn't work and why I mostly greywall everyone in the family. And yet???? That doesn't seem to be a good enough answer???? He just seems to get detached from the conversation and leave me feeling worse than I already do, like of course I wanna fight back! BUT THAT MAKES LIFE WORSE??? I just??? Idk it sucks ass

Does anyone feel or think that there can just be a point where trauma is too complicated and that conditioning is too thorough where safe places can’t exist?

I’ve lost so many safe places due to my awful patterns that hurt when and after I do it, yet I can’t stop myself. It’s so automatic I only realize I’m doing it after a while later.

Hi I’m very new here and I’m at an extreme low..

I’ve had prolonged trauma for about like.. the past 5-6 years? It started off with my dads divorce, which wasn’t exactly too upsetting to me. I like spending time with my dad one on one. But he got severely depressed and I was always walking on eggshells at 12 years old trying to make sure he didn’t off himself. Didn’t help I had to leave to my mom’s over the weekends.. and I’d come back home to him severely injured or drunk. Poor guy was in the trenches of depression.

We went poor. Lost water. WiFi. I didn’t have clean clothes. Food. Didn’t stay up with hygiene. This was when I started to develop severe depression as well. But I didn’t want to leave my dad, in fear he’d be alone and actually end up doing something to hurt himself if I left. I felt like I was the only one he was really living for.

Eventually, he was admitted to a rehab center, stayed there for a few months. I discovered I couldn’t read anymore. Because my mind was racing. And while I tried to force my mind to slow down, I ended up having severe intrusive thoughts. I tried to research the reasoning why, and my brain picked up on so much information and used it against me in the long run.

I moved in with my grandma and tried to convey my struggles, only to be ignored and shoved to the side basically. So I rawdogged my anxiety disorder, and accepted it as a part of my personality. It wasn’t bad enough for me to hate my life just yet.

Then I moved in with my mom at 14. My dad went to rehab again. Got out. And he’d called her saying he wanted to hurt himself. I started having panic attacks, anxiety attacks, racing thoughts. Inability to sleep or watch tv and was heavily dissociated from the world around me. I’d get nightmares of my father severely injured or even dying.

My mother took me into the hospital, noticing my struggles. I only was diagnosed with GAD and MDD and was prescribed 25mg of sertraline, which didn’t do shit for me, but it made a tiny difference. I’m going up to 100 now.

That year was good. I wasn’t happy yet. Still just.. allowing my brain to be a dick without truly telling anyone about it because I thought maybe I was just being dramatic.

Then my mom had a manic period. She left her husband, moved us out, started getting irritable. I was already worsening mentally due to all of the stress, and she was mad at me for it. I woke up one morning and she was beating my brother simply for asking where she put his dog’s bowl, and asked her why she kept moving shit around. She beat him hard enough I thought she was killing him, so I ran out, and he had scratches down his face, he looked horrified, was on the floor trying to scoot away from her. He was only 14. I was 16. I stood between them. And my mom looked my in the eyes and said “don’t save him.” I just stared at her and pushed her away. She got mad at that and ended up chasing me out to the front yard while I debated calling the police. She put her hands on me, grabbed me by the neck. I told her she needed to calm down and she yelled no.

Eventually she ran back inside thinking things would go on as normal and like she didn’t just traumatize the house.

My brother sat in his bed, shaking and crying. I walked in and told him to show me his face. He had claw marks from her nails down his cheek. She didn’t want him going to school that morning because people would ask questions, I bet. But.. my smart self got audio recordings during this whole fiasco. Pictures of his injuries.

So she drove me and my other brother, who was 12, to school, because we had no visible marks and she didn’t think we’d say anything.

But I walked my happy ass to the guidance office and showed them everything. Got her arrested. Had to write a report, go through questioning.

And somehow I ended up back in my dad’s care.. he was more stable at the time and I’d rather stay with him than my grandma because he doesn’t emotionally neglect me. He may not have his shit together but he loves his kiddo.

During the time I stayed with my dad, I tried to take my mind off of things by doing dishes. A cup broke with my hand inside of it, and I got ten stitches.

My mom got out of jail and texted me just to say my cat was gone. Didn’t tell me what she meant. So she let me worry about if he was dead or out in the streets where he’s never been before because he was a house kitty.

My childhood home burned down. My dad got hooked on some drugs, don’t know which kind, but something that caused him a seizure.

My great grandfather died.

I was half convinced I was cursed.

This all happened within the span of a month.

Eventually I was forced back into my grandmas care because she’s the only one who’s well off financially. I started suffering severe night terrors, sleep paralysis, flashbacks, blended reality episodes where I couldn’t tell if I was back at my mom’s house because both houses and energies just felt so similar. I had panic attacks, severe intrusive thoughts. And when I reached out for help, my grandma looked me in the eyes and said “I’m not going to baby you.” And I emotionally cut her off entirely that day.

I was 16 pushing 17 during this time.

I couldn’t watch my phone, watch movies, go outside, go for a walk, my head was just tooo loud. Experiencing these symptoms was traumatizing itself because the more I reached out the more it backfired. My grandma ended up kicking me out so I went to my boyfriend’s house at the time and she actually called the cops and framed me as a runaway. I came home to all of my stuff gone. Room empty.

And as I tried to make sense of my thoughts without someone helping me get counseling or psychiatric help, I unfortunately had to resort to google to find coping mechanisms or a diagnosis that made enough sense that I could research and work my way through without any professional help until I turned 18 and could do it myself.

My brain hooked onto very scary subjects. Such as OCD. I have never had history of OCD and nobody in my family does. But my brain likes to generate thoughts that almost dress up as OCD. Sometimes they’re not even finished thoughts, just scrambled around and make no sense. And that’s how I know my brain is just trying to keep me on edge by throwing whatever it can at the freakin wall. Because it’s not just those kinda thoughts, it’s a plethora, like my brains filter is broken and presents every bad thought up to me under a spotlight. Whether it be sexual, derogatory words about myself I actually don’t believe, soo many things. There is no theme. Brain is just throwing shit at me to keep me on edge. I still have panic attacks when certain dates come, and when I see specific people, it’s severely effecting my daily life even though I’m not in that bad place anymore.

I’ve had people joke about my “abandonment issues“ many times. As a child that was kidnapped and left everywhere for a period of time, I better have some abandonment issues BUT by the level of joking and thinking more about how many people have used that to manipulate me. I wonder what people define abandonment issues and used in different frames of reference can mean multiple things. having someone that once obsessed about getting me “abandoned by the government” at one time (which I survived) I wonder how many ways “abandonment“ is used in that sense...

Say something trumuatizing online and I keep doing research about it I keep making sure about it I keep watching thing that relates to it. It is terrifying but my mind keeps saying I want to do this and that I like doing it. Is this a repetition compulsion and what is the treatment for it

I had never thought about my subconscious reacting during the anniversary of a severely traumatic event. Having enforced amnesia that without a medical provider I am unable to fix makes it a lot harder to know my timeline or my name thus giving the threat the opportunity to relive and recreate said event. Looking back my impending sense of “doom“ when I turned 30 and fear of leaving the property line when I went home (while still maintained) would have been a big red flag if I knew what I was afraid of. Does anyone else have reactions to an anniversary even without knowing it?

Not really sure if this belongs here but I have CPTSD and this has been a part of my healing journey that I’ve had to come to terms with so…

I’ve been in online spaces (even though I’m trying to get off of it) and I’ve seen a big uptick in the psychology attachment literature becoming a pop culture psychology thing, mainly with “avoidant” people being shamed as the only problem or outright abusive.

It bothered me and initially I assumed I was just being sensitive and didn’t like being called out because, I thought, “I was the one who left and behaved coldly” and so I must be the “avoidant problem”. And after talking with my therapist and thinking it over, I’ve come to think that the trend of shaming avoidance or those who leave is deeply tied to the fact that we live in a society that would rather shame victims and protect abusers than the other way around.

For context, I have Autism and CPTSD and that combination (and my own actions) have gotten me into very enmeshed relationships, starting with my parent before also happening in my peer relationships. I would like the entitlement and control these other people had because it would make my life easier — they had rules that I could follow to keep them happy and keep myself safe.

As someone who’s abuser told all of our mutual friends that I was “emotionally unavailable” after leaving bc they’d been abusive and weird coercive stuff with me that doesn’t quite fit SA, I have a really hard time believing that I deserved to leave.

So seeing all this shame online about how people who leave are the problem really a) makes me doubt myself and my decision to leave and b) makes me angry bc I know how fucking hard it is to leave. And I know not every situation is abuse but I know how vulnerable people in those situations are and I know what it’s like to think that the only option out is suicide because leaving the relationship feels like it’s too hard and will only bring more shame from everyone else.

Tldr it bothers me to no end how society is set up to destroy survivors and I think I also hate myself for not being strong enough to fully believe what I know to be true about what I experienced (but I’m slowly getting there)

Anyways thanks for reading this far

Been starting to go to ACA meetings (adult children of alcoholics and dysfunctional families) and have found it really healing. It's nice to have a space set aside in my week to be witnessed and witness others without judgment and who understand cPTSD and family dysfunction. It's free and structured similarly to AA and Al-Anon. Highly recommend! Mine is virtual/regional but I think most groups listed on the website meet in person.

I have never cut myself because I wanted to die (literally die) cutting myself was a way to feel physical pain (distract) from emotional pain. physical pain is bearable, emotional pain sometimes is too much. I don’t cut often anymore, but this is just my personal experience with self harm. I’ve always wondered if this has been others experience.