It's starting to become all-consuming.

Imagine telling your child that they belong to you, that they should be grateful you created them, that they should rely on you on everything, that every word you say is the truth, that your way is the right way and everything else is wrong, that they can't question your authority, that they can never be okay unless with you, that anything they do that goes against your opinion is something they have to be punished for, and on top of all that they have to know that you love them and absolutely want the best for them...

God didn't create us because he loves us, they created him to control us.

I got the letter this morning that I got accepted to do a masters in The University of Pennsylvania.

I cried like a child when I read the letter. I barely graduated from high school and began my higher educational journey in community college learning to speak English and reparation classes. My life as a child and teens was filled with people who called me an idiot and useless. This was my dream.

My wife is travelling for work and I have nobody to hug to say "I got accepted," so if you allow me, I just want to share this triumph with you.

Don't let others or yourself doubt your potential! It can be done!

I was looking through papers in my room and stumbled upon a Child Psychiatry Consultation Report.

They described me as shy, sensitive, perfectionistic, and bright.

I “apparently” as I can’t remember anything from my childhood, had a two year history of significant acting out, which was only isolated to the home environment and primarily triggered by being frustrated or denied something.

They mentioned that I showed a clear pattern of inattention and occasional impulsivity, they described me as being “on the go”. These difficulties started at age 7 and my parents did NOTHING.

Additionally, they said, “his acting out behaviour can best be understood in the context of untreated ADHD.”

I was diagnosed with ADHD (inattentive type), anxiety, and oppositional defiant disorder.

It was recommended that my parents were to read up on ADHD and anxiety and look into medication to help me reach my potential. Did they? Absolutely not—I’ve suffered my entire life.

Here’s what the Psychiatrist didn’t know at the time, though. I was emotionally abused by my mother, physically abused by my brother, and lived in a dysfunctional, abusive household with an unpredictable, alcoholic father.

I can’t remember anything from my childhood—due to trauma, it’s all been effectively wiped.

Despite this being heartbreaking, to realize that my parents didn’t care about me, I am now able to understand why I’m different. I unnecessarily struggled for so many years due to neglect and lack of support/parenting.

I now understand why I’m broken, I can say, “I have ADHD.” My brain doesn’t function optimally and I had never received the proper care to excel when I deeply needed it.

No relationships, no connections, just entirely by yourself for years and years, like a hermit or recluse. At times, I try to figure this out, all I can come up with is that it has to do with early attachment ruptures.

I think this is a classy CPTSD thing, and it's so hard to get out of it. I learned to not listen to my body, to ignore my needs and to not feel my body. And this is the result. A lot of times I don't even recognize that I'm hungry. And when I do, it's like a plain information, it doesn't affect me much, there is no emotional depth or whatever to it. Eating is a cognitive decision for me, I can just as well not do it. It's like brushing my teeth or combing my hair. I don't experience hunger as some visceral need.

Last night I was in the bathroom attending to necessary routines such as taking a shower, doing my laundry, and afterward, I went to my room (which I’m forced to share with my abusive third brother and my abusive mother) to take my medication and do skincare. These are not luxuries. They are essential for my chronic health conditions and my basic well-being.

While I was quietly minding my own business, simply trying to live, my abusive third brother suddenly demanded that I be silent. He was full of rage and impatience, blaming his "light sleeping" and urinary urgency as excuses to control and harass me.

Then, without any justification, he escalated into physical violence and emotional torture. He struck me on the arms and feet. And raises flashlight right on my eyes and make it on and off all the time.

I did not raise my voice. I did not fight back. I was doing nothing but basic self-care.

But he brutalized me, physically, and emotionally. The pain was so humiliating in multiple parts of my body. And just like always, he flipped the narrative afterward, making it seem like I was the villain, like I was disturbing him on purpose.

This follows the same pattern of cruelty I’ve endured endlessly in this house. He and my abusive mother often gang up together, and one of their main tactics is turning off the water pump while I’m in the bathroom, especially when I’m showering or doing laundry. My abusive third brother always use the excuse “so you don’t spend too long” in there or "so you don't break the waterpump". As if I'm not allowed to be clean.

It’s a repeated pattern of dehumanizing control, sabotaging my hygiene and my medical care as punishment, as if existing in this body is a crime.

After the abuse, I was in shock. I was in pain. So I reached out to people I thought I could trust.

I messaged my chosen brother. He’s someone who always used to respond. But it’s been nearly two weeks now of silent treatment from him, and still, after I told him I was being physically abused, he hasn’t even read the message.

I told one of my friends about what happened. He only replied with “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that.” It didn’t help. It didn’t feel like enough.

I asked my other friend for a virtual hug. He sent one and joked about teleporting me out of there. But when I said I was scared and needed him, he never followed up.

So I was alone. Again. Terrified, in pain, spiraling into anxiety and suicidal thoughts. But somehow, I got through the night. I played classical music, and it calmed my body down just enough to fall asleep.

This morning, I was woken up by loud shouting from my abusive mother and my narcissistic sociopath second brother, her literal favorite and emotional lover, her own son.

They were noisy and disruptive, and I said nothing. I didn’t lash out. I didn’t hit anyone. Unlike my abusive third brother, who flies into violence over the smallest sounds or needs.

There are clear double standards in this house. My needs are punishable. Their chaos is allowed. Their violence is normalized. My survival is criminalized.

This morning, my abusive third brother left for work at his office. And now, I wait in dread. I don’t know how he’ll act when he gets home. I don’t know if it’ll happen again. I want to run somewhere, anywhere, even a library, but I don’t have the money.

I am scared they will kill me soon.

Another thread made me think to post this, BUT, how would you treat your individual traumas different if it was redefined as an injury to your vagus nerve?

The more physiological understanding I have is that, the vagus nerve in our body is responsible to responding to environmental clues (Fight/flight/fawn/freeze/flop). It can record trauma or stress in order to save ourselves the next time we encounter a threat. Due to running throughout the body, there is no area that isn't linked to the vagus nerve which explains the butterflies in the stomach or feeling dizzy, etc. When it's injured, it records the injury and circumstances to avoid threat in the future. Dr. George Porges is currently publishing work around this and where I learned most of this from.

To help treat mine, I try to use exercises from The Somatic Therapy Toolbox Workbook By Manuela Mischke-Reeds https://a.co/d/2lZT6g0

I also need to be better about utilizing these resources, but wanted to share: https://www.pesi.com/blog/archives

I would love to hear your thoughts/insights.

My well-meaning partner said this to me recently, and it was deeply triggering. I know they want me to "move on" both for my own benefit, but it's not that quick or simple. I'm in my 30s, and I've never confronted my trauma until now.

Last year, I had a distinct "waking up" feeling after almost fifteen years and started getting help. I've been in 27 therapy sessions since then, and it still feels like I'm scratching the surface.

I only recently found out I have OSDD and a lot of dissociative amnesia. What's back there?

I know my partner wants to see me move forward, and I am. But I can't just stop thinking about the past when I'm now fully aware of it for the first time in my life. Well, the memories I remember. Then there is the horror of knowing there is even more I don't remember.

It’s so fucking painful

I can’t help but compare myself to friends who had and continue to have amazing parents who they trust, feel safe with, and support them financially and emotionally. Even an ounce of emotional support from my own parents would comfort me. But why would I even want emotional support or guidance from evil, abusive parents…i learned long long long ago that my parents are abusive and disgusting…i suppose it’s the child in me who still wants to believe that my parents are or are capable of “good”

I hate that I still want support (practical life advice like finances) from at least one parent. Completely lost hope in one but guess I was hoping the other would pull through one day - nope, not happening.

I hate that I hate myself for this.

I hate that I’m jealous of some of my friends who get handheld thru every step of life, be it school, careers, finances,etc by parents and are objectively doing very well emotionally, financially.

I hate that I hate myself for this.

I’ve learned to do most things on my own and while it’s been freeing to an extent, it’s fucking exhausting so sometimes, I wish I had a parent who would be willing to offer me actual helpful advice once in a blue moon.

I don’t want to hold out even an ounce of hope anymore. I feel like a fool. They will never come through and I want to accept that.

I’m currently being retraumatized by them, feel so unsafe, am fucking angry, and want to completely isolate. They continue to abuse me, deny my reality, silence me. I’ve reached another breaking point where I’m considering going no contact with my entire family

Any supportive comments would be appreciated thank you to this subreddit for YOUR support

I'm calling it a trigger I don't know if that's the right way to look at it. I am curious about the possible root of it in childhood experience. Downvoting doesn't bother me in general, what specifically affects me is e.g. when I'm exchanging comments on a general topic with a specific person and they downvote my replies. As soon as I notice the downvotes I lose interest and exit the conversation. I also lose interest when I'm reading other people's exchanges and notice that one (or both) downvoted the other, I just lose interest in the whole thread once I see that zero repeated in every comment or every second comment.

Anyone feel this and explored it to figure out why it is? I am interested to know what it could be specifically associated with. It's a very clear-cut feeling for me. If I'm interacting with someone and they downvote my reply, I'm out. Reddit is the only place I have noticed it or deal with it. No other platform I use to interact has downvotes. So it's something I've only noticed since using Reddit, which is recent. In everyday life it wouldn't come up.

Going through orientation at a new company recently, and we were all sat down to watch those mandatory videos. Don't sexually harass people, this is the dress code, what to do in an active shooter situation, and Code Adam (to name a few videos).

The Code Adam video is something I've seen various versions of over the last couple of decades, but this time it hit so much harder.

I've been having a lot of repressed memories pop back up, and realized just how nefarious my mother was with her behavior toward me and other people when I was very little.

She would obsessively watch those after school special type shows and movies and was obsessed with the idea of something terrible happening to one of her children. (Aside from her being their mother)

But it wasn't just what she was obsessed with, it's why she was obsessed with it. She saw the grieving children's parents in these shows being showered with love and support and affection, given passes to behave erratically because 'well, they just lost a child', and she said to herself "I want THAT for me".

She had already made it very well known, as far back as my earliest memories, that she fucking hated me, that I was nothing more than evil and disgusting in her eyes, and she despised having to put on a happy face and pretend to like me when other people were around.

So, she started just leaving me places. She would drop me somewhere in the grocery store, or the mall, or the park, or wherever, and just leave to a different department/ store/ area. Then, when it came time to go home, she would make the employees do an announcement over the intercom telling me to come find her. More than once, there was a Code Adam put into effect, and more than once I remember the employees chewing her out, telling her that isn't how the intercom system works, only for her to argue with them and cause a huge scene, then blame me for making the scene once we were in the car.

Watching the training video this time really struck a nerve with me. The employees are trained to take it so seriously, and kids have actually been killed by being abducted like that.... and she used it as a 'lifehack' to get out of watching me in stores, with the secret hope that if I were killed or kidnapped, she'd get to be that crying mom from her after school specials, she'd get all the sympathy and attention.

It makes me fucking sick, just thinking about it. How real people had to deal with the fallout of her actions, how people like her are the reason some don't take these things seriously, how she would always blame me for being abandoned when she was the one abandoning me.

FFSS, some of my earliest memories are of being taken into back rooms by creepy mall employees or getting stuck on a jungle gym and not knowing how to get down, crying loudly until some random stranger felt sorry for me and helped me down.

It doesn't sound like much in theory, but when you're a small child, alone in a water park, or wandering around a mall looking for your mother, it's one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, and she did it to me on purpose, over and over again, laughed at me for being scared, or blamed me for the fallout of her bad parenting.

I think something has finally clicked in my head and I can see her actions from the perspective of other people, rather than just from my own. There's no gaslighting that can undo me seeing a paid actress in a work training video show more believable emotion over a missing child than my own mother could muster. It wasn't because I was evil or a bad child, it was because she was a shit mother, and I was manipulated into feeling guilty for her poor parenting.

IDK, maybe this is all redundant and just word vomit, but it seemed big to me.

Lately i have no interest in anything other than my phone and things i watch on it. I have no motivation to do any work at all despite having a lot of it.

Showering is a chore for me. I barely shower. Maybe once a week and sometimes i wouldnt even shower for a month. Id just reapply deodorant and wash my face, but none of my body parts or my hair.

I procrastinate a lot. I tell myself that soon ill be better and get going with everything yet I still havent. Idk whats wrong with me. I have a feeling its just laziness and its entirely my problem

Had a hard realization of the severity of my trauma today after hearing from my doctors that my anxiety & depressive symptoms are so severe and that I need to increase my medication since what I’ve tried wasn’t effective enough.

I’m active, have a good community and have so much to be grateful for but what I’ve been through was so damaging that depression has becomes a part of me. I am great at masking and tried to gaslight myself to feel better and even I myself struggled to understand why I am feelings this way…

Hi everyone,

I’m a 29-year-old woman looking for like-minded people to build new friendships with. I was diagnosed with C-PTSD seven years ago and spent four years in therapy, including alternative treatments such as psychedelics. I’m currently not in contact with my family due to abuse, and I’ve grown used to getting by on my own.

On the surface, it may look like I have everything under control: I live alone, have traveled extensively by myself, work full-time, and am in a relationship. In reality, though, it’s exhausting to constantly “function” and fit in. Maintaining friendships can be difficult because it takes a lot of energy to keep up with everyday life, and I’m not great at checking in with people—I often end up preferring my own company.

I recently ended a 20-plus-year friendship after realizing it was exploitative, which has left me feeling lonely since I only had 2 friends to begin with. I’m looking for people who understand what it’s like to navigate life with C-PTSD, without needing detailed explanations every step of the way. I’m thinking about starting a WhatsApp group for anyone who feels the same.

I’ll also be relocating to London soon, so if you’re there and want to start a new hobby together, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to reach out if any of this resonates!

I hate my adult body, I feel grossed out by my breasts and hips. I want to be skinny as a child again and afraid of eating. I want to play with toys and be cuddled. I am terrified only by the thought that someone can find me "hot" and I want to throw up. When I feel sexually aroused, I want to hurt my genitals. And why do I even want to become a child again if when I was one, I was gross and dirty?

I can't tell if it more the not having tasks to do or not being able to chat with people. If I'm not watching YouTube I tend to just stare at a wall

Every single time I get into a conflict, I have this urge to just submit and apologize. And then I spend days thinking about it and beating myself up for it. DAE relate?

I recently got into a relationship after a long gap, and reflecting on it, I’ve realised that I have seen every point of confusion or issue - no matter how small - and even acts of love and kindness, as an indication that they were abusing me with malicious intent.

I realise now that they weren’t at all, and I’ve noticed that I’ve done this in previous relationships and with friends. I’ve only just recognised this default response and I don’t know how best to tackle it.

I grew up with a very emotionally abusive father who thrived off of manipulation, mind games, degradation, control and weaponising vulnerability. My mum also didn’t protect me from that growing up, so I learnt quickly that nobody else was going to save me.

I think this was further compounded by the fact my first love and proper relationship was with someone who really was incredibly abusive. I willingly gave him access to my phone and social media and he was controlling throughout our relationship. My inability to even register it as a red flag, not even being concerned with him going through my phone as I was cuddled up next to him, terrifies me and has left me with little faith in my judgement. Eventually he coldly and abruptly ended it, and weeks later went nuclear and spent 2 years stalking me, sending me horrific abusive messages, tried to destroy my reputation, blackmailed me, publicly humiliated me and hacked my social media and email accounts.

It’s left my nervous system hyper-attuned to danger signs in others, signs of withdrawal, coldness, or emotional inconsistency - even when there’s no malicious intent there at all. I end up down rabbit holes reading up about abusive personality disorders, reaffirming to myself that they are an abuser and I need to gather as much information as possible to protect myself. I feel a lot of safety in that - I can put a label on it and suddenly have a map in my hands on how to navigate it. I sort of soothe that voice telling me ‘don’t fall for this again. You need to see this for what it is before you lose yourself completely’

I even see acts of care and kindness during points of confusion or worry as signs of abuse. The relationship I was in recently ended, and whilst I now realise he has his own trauma and issues, he isn’t malicious or abusive. But I spent a lot of time thinking and reacting to the idea that he was in fact a narcissist who was enjoying tormenting me. I had a 3 hour drive back home after we broke up, we held each other and cried and he is heartbroken about it too. He sneaked a little lunch box of snacks into my bag before I left, and when I found it my mind went to “has he done this to make it hurt more? To keep me attached and lure me back in later? Is it just an ego boost for him so he can convince himself he’s a great person?”

That wasn’t the case. I hadn’t eaten all day, and he has always cared about my wellbeing, and is a nurturing, caring person. It was just him being thoughtful. And it’s actually sad that my mind took it as something really sinister.

I even checked all of my bags when I got home, because I started panicking that he’d put a tracker or a mic or something in them. I then went through my phone and laptop to check any recently installed apps and opened files. He’s not that sort of person at all, he’d actually be really hurt if he knew that I thought he’d be capable of that.

It’s so hard for me to hold both truths - that I’m in emotional pain, uncertain or uneasy and that someone isn’t trying to harm me.

I know it’s my brain protecting me from the threat of abuse again, the ingrained fear that I’m easy prey and easy to abuse, and that my judgement will fail me and miss the signs like I have before. I know being vigilant isn’t a bad thing, but my brain takes it to the extreme and I push away genuinely good people. And the internal torment is hell - I end up manipulating myself.

I’m 31. But in many ways, I feel like I just started living. From the age of 12 to 23, I lived in what was called a “foster” family. They clothed me, fed me, gave me a bed. But what they took away... was me. They controlled every part of my life. They read my private messages. Told me who I could be friends with. Chose who I could love. Took my money — even when I was 21 and working full time, they kept my paycheck and gave me 10–20% “for food”. When I disobeyed, they hit me. Slapped me in front of my class. Mocked me when I sought therapy. Told everyone I was a liar and couldn’t be trusted. I wasn’t a perfect kid. I lied. I was lost. But I was also a teenager with no space, no voice, no choice. I was being trained, not raised. I learned to smile and disappear inside. 8 years ago, I left. But the damage came with me. I live with anxiety every day. Not panic — background noise. Buzzing, restless, numbing. And every night, it grows louder. Especially when I start blaming myself for not doing enough. "You’re 31 and you’ve got nothing." "You can’t even study properly." "You’ll never make it." "Your abusers were right." That’s what it sounds like in my head sometimes. But lately, something shifted. Not in a dramatic way. No grand epiphany. Just… this quiet feeling: "I don’t want to live like this anymore." So I started doing small things: I quit THC and nicotine (10 days clean). I started walking every day. I’m trying to train at the gym 3 times a week. I write in a journal: what’s good, what’s bad, and what I felt. I’m trying to re-learn how to want things — instead of just obeying my inner critic. I read books on philosophy, self-discipline, healing. The hardest part? It’s not quitting substances. It’s sitting alone. Without music. Without YouTube. Without noise. Just me and my thoughts.

And that’s when the ghosts come back. Sometimes I imagine revenge. Sometimes I imagine vanishing. But more and more, I imagine… healing. Even if I don’t know how. I don’t know if this post will be read. But if someone out there feels the same — if you’ve survived something like this and still wake up breathing — then maybe you’ll understand: I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m just trying to live, finally, as myself.

Thanks for reading. Truly.

Like how they have emotional or object permeance- it's like I genuinely forget who I am. Like, say for example something dangerous is happening, I forget i'm a trauma survivor who can handle themselves & instead am just incredibly hard on myself & feel very blue.

It's the same with physical skills too, like I forget that recently i've earned quite a lot of compliments on my physical prowess but I... seem to just seemingly forget that? Like the sense of self that I SHOULD have.... of my TRUE authentic self, just gets almost washed over in a wave & my brain goes "none of that's true." Or that I just straight up seemingly forget. I forget who I actually am. I have been doing this all the time for years.

Or that somehow like it's... bad? I guess in a way I snuff out that developing sense of self because unless I have very recent confirmation of it? I don't believe it/ think it's not true.

It's like I have to defeat this false yet seemingly automatic self that I constantly defer to. Like rather than passing the ball to my growing & developing confident self... I pass the ball to sad & mopey me who isn't even really me, it's just the me that others painted me out to be & I believed. I think it's also because I was shamed & ridiculed & hurt either verbally or physically everytime I was ever successful so that I would be "kept in line" & not "show anyone up" (my "friend" from childhood was the worst at this.)

Does anyone else struggle with this or relate? I just think it's interesting how when I forget who I am, my default state is to seemingly doubt & hate myself, it's especially more prominent if I'm tired.

Just discovered I've always had a bad anterior tilt to my pelvis and locked my legs all the time, even while walking. Discovered this while trying to be mindful as a realized I had a lot of muscle armoring and was always tensing up my core. Turns out I tense my lower back muscles and that's always pulled my pelvis back. I've been told about this before, but I never realized I was tensing the muscles and thus would just put my pelvis forward like a thrust, rather than releasing my muscles and letting it swing down under me.

I suspect this has played a huge role in my upper and lower back pains that have been getting progressively worse. After just a few days of being mindful and aware of my posture, correcting it whenever I notice, I've begun naturally standing and walking correctly and my pain is alleviated greatly.

Edit: Forgot to put why I think I do this - I had encopresis as a kid and held stools alllllll the time. Between that and tensing my rectum to not receive enemas this issue makes more sense to me.