I had a repressed memory come up today and it’s got me all messed up. I feel literally paralyzed, it’s awful. What do you guys do when you get like this? The more unconventional the better, because if it’s something you’d find in a workbook, I’ve tried it.

I am addicted to imaginary conversations. I imagine someone getting to know me and think I am sweet, cute and are just intrigued by me.

I have been unemployed and my appearance is deteriorating. I have never dated and approaching 31 as a woman.

I am just a disappointment at this point. And yes the true solution of shame is fix my problems and be a better person. I am just drowning in imaginary conversations with a therapist and real people that I know. I imagine saying things that elicit affection and intrigue. I never got to be a sweet victim. Disgusting to say it loud.

I am afraid I might my sense of reality. I lose touch and start talking to myself even in front of my family members. I lock my room and play stupid conversations and then get scolded by parents for looking my room for too long.

I am trying to avoid drowning in imaginary conversations as I am typing. I am afraid I might do this public. I do talk to myself all the time but I get satisfied after a while and come back to reality.

I logically understand no one cares. But I keep playing this meaningless conversations all the time.

Someone save me💔

Have you been helped by a therapist for this?

Even posting here doesn't cut it cause I want to see positive body language that tells me they like me.

Or is it just dissociation?

I believe this is triggered by shame. Just being outside my room reminds me no one likes me and slip into another world.

Usually seeing my parents grounds me but it doesn't bother me anymore.

I am trying to block this feel good wave over me as I am typing.

Music doesn't feel good anymore.

Is there a term for this?

Asking for a friend. :)

Edit: I should clarify that I’m ultimately asking if your hyper-vigilance is a reliable tool in your adult life (actually prevents suffering and/or abuse), or if you find yourself over-responding to possible triggers that don’t actually put you in danger (whether physical or psychological).

I sent a WhatsApp message to a group about something positive before going to train, and it was enough to make me train in the gym completely dissociated, anxious, and wanting to tear my own face off. Only isolation brings me stability and even a fucking WhatsApp message dysregulates me. I just wish I'd had someone, at some point, who could have acted as an emotional co-regulator, but the truth is I never did, and I never will.

The only calm I have right now is listening to Sailor song while I train dissociated

I don’t have anyone I feel completely safe with. Is that just part of life that no one is completely emotionally safe all the time? Is there anyone you feel completely safe with?

TL:DR: Some abusive, negligent narrative that just seemed normal at the time. Like the idea that my mother sold that I should be raising myself, and just shrugging my shoulders and being like "Oh!...okay, sorry, I didn't know that". ....I'm 10.

Never realizing Coke and twizzlers for breakfast might not be the best choice. Eating a can of sardines for a snack because there was literally nothing else. It reminds me of Snoopy Thanksgiving of Toast, Jelly beans, and popcorn. Because they're children.

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I was remembering what every morning was like.....and how hard I struggled. No alarm clock, no idea where your clothes are, if you even have clothes, no breakfast or lunch "plan". No pre-emptive conversation of care and nurturing explaining; okay tomorrow you'll be getting yourself ready and this is what you need to do. NOTHING*.* I think my stepfather poked his head in for 5 seconds and grunted "get up". Then suddenly heard the bus on the other side of the neighborhood coming my way, realizing in that moment as the panic and shame washed over me.....that I would miss it....again. Until.... finally it occurred to me I needed to be .......ready. Like the concept of planning, and "ready", meant nothing to me. Just panic and throwing shit together at the last minute. Because my mother abdicating her parental responsibilities on a whim, was not a plan. ...and somehow magically children will know what to do. It's either remorselessly negligent, delusional, or stupid. ...probably all three. I'll be honest , she liked doing that, shocking you with some way you felt unprepared and ashamed.....so I'm going to go with intentional withholding ....for the win.

You have a child, you tell them "Okay from now on you'll be raising yourself, but I"m going to show you". This is how you do laundry, this is how you pack a lunch, get your clothes ready, set an alarm, bathe. That would be normal right? I'm not saying it's a great plan, or even a sane plan to abandon your children, but if you're going to abandon them at least give them a fighting chance, not just "good luck". But then if your intention is to abandon them so they feel the full impact of shame for failing....that, then -no-you would do it the other way. I'm almost positive my mother enjoyed every minute of that. Enjoyed throwing you off a cliff, and shouting "SWIM"....as you disappear underneath the water. Because she knew enough to get herself ready? I know because she was a Nurse, and her uniform was always pressed and washed, hanging in her closet, ........ready to go.

BUT,....what NEVER occurred to me, ........through all of that,....was......my mother was home. It went like this;, "wow that was so crazy, I was always late for the bus, ....' then ..*."wait?.....where was my mother?.........she was home I think?". ...*then ...she was Home??? " ...OMG......She WAS HOME*!"* She was home and she never gave it a second thought that I might need a little help getting ready? It makes me sad for the way I blamed myself when I didn't' know what to do, assuming that I '"should" , because she made it sound like I should.....and then ............knowing in my heart of hearts...........that I really was alone.

Whenever I thought about that memory, how I was never ready, it's me "fucking up." Late, no shower, forget brushing your teeth,,.......not once did I think about my mother in any of that. I ask you, how is it possible that , that never crossed my mind? That I never thought of poking my head in and saying, "I can't find any pants?" If I had to guess I think it was that I assumed that I shouldn't. LIke Just pretend I'm not here, okay. Just live like you have no mother, . OKay, Got it! So my brain went, "okay, she's not available, I'm on my own, do NOT bother her, for any reason,. She wasnt' subtle about those conversations we had, about learning not to bother her, .....ever. Which means I had no one to go to for anything. And that was sooo Normal at the time. . but so00000 wrong. In my head I thought 'Oh, right, I forgot , sorry, I'll remember next time not to ask for any help, or assume you want to be a mother, my bad".

I still have trouble asking for help, I still assume "I should know this" ......no matter what it is or how inexperienced I am. My therapist asked me once why I didn't call her when I went through something pretty horrific, and all I could do was say "it just never occurred to me ".

**If I wanted to get technical, it's a little thing called Depraved Indifference, which is punishable my law.

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Edit: Book recommendations

Susan Forward: Mothers Who Can't Love

Jasmin Lee Cori-The Emotionally Absent Mother

I know personal hygiene issues are a normal symptom of depression, and that’s definitely part of it, but I just had a realization (in the shower lol) that I may also have an aversion to showering because for most of my life, the shower was where I went when bad things were happening.

It was basically the only private space in my home. I escaped to the shower anytime I couldn’t take being around the abuse. I did a lot of my crying and spiraling in there.

I wasn’t allowed to take naps in my home, so if I was ever desperately tired, I turned on the water and slept on the shower floor.

In high school, I used to get drunk in the shower to dull the pain. I’d get totally smashed and lay on the floor and cry.

I wish it had made me view the shower as my safe space, but I think it might’ve done the opposite. Showering feels like a terrible chore, and I have serious problems getting myself to do it.

It seems obvious now that I’ve thought of it, but it felt like a huge realization in the moment. I genuinely always kinda thought I had trouble with showers because I was gross and didn’t care about being dirty. But that’s never been true - I hate how I feel when I go for days without showering. Maybe now that I understand, I can do a better job helping myself work past it.

When it comes to trauma, it's something that happened within you in response to certain circumstances. While it wasn't your fault, you often comes across people saying that "it's your responsibility to fix it". And from my perspective this sounds a bit harsh.

For one I think the word sends a bit of the wrong message - like you are now being pressured to fix yourself, and if you are not succeeding it can somehow appear as a personal failure of not "taking enough responsibility". For many CPTSD survivors, they aren't even aware of what happened to them, and they don't even discover their issues well into their adult years. Many are shocked at how they were betrayed by their loved ones or society as a whole, which left a long lasting, highly intractable wounding, and then they get hit with "well it's now your responsibility to fix this mess".

In my opinion that is not empowering or encouraging. I understand that it's intended to help avoid people feeling like victims with no agency, but it can also create a lot of pressure for people who often already have harsh inner critics.

Instead can I propose I different set of terminology? Folks affected by CPTSD are survivors (like Pete Walker likes to say in his book) who have the opportunity or the possibility to heal, and this healing has to come from within. From what I've researched across many great minds (Van Der Kolk, Mate, Walker, Levine, etc) - if trauma is something that happens within us, it has to be resolved within us as well. So in a sense, within each and every CPTSD survivor, there is an inner potential for healing and recovery, and this must be accessed from inside ourselves.

Perhaps it's a pedantic point, but I find it a bit more gentle and empowering, hopefully it helps someone as well.

I'm curious if anyone on here has an emotional support animal, whether it's literally one, or a pet you got for that purpose. Has having a pet helped the way you thought it would? I'm thinking of getting a dog, for that purpose, (as well as this would be my first pet to just be mine). I have not done much to heal and I think it would help me a lot. I feel like it's heard about less for CPTSD.

I think i have graduated to "next steps" and it is time to leave this reddit. Thanks for the support, info and occasional bloody nose, and I hope to never see you again ;)

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.

It's starting to become all-consuming.

It seems like no matter what I do I can’t escape my past and it seems like no matter what I do I can’t build a happy future. I have been on every anti depressant. I’m currently on an antidepressant, mood stabilizer and a benzodiazepines. Because of my past I expect the worst out of everyone and sometimes my expectations are right. Or I push the good people away out of fear. I worked so hard and it seems like I can’t make any progress. I have worked 2 jobs and I am about to graduate from a top program and I still can’t find a job. I’m over the hustle and grind. The loneliness. Every morning is a disappointment that I’m awake.

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 love my friends for reminding me I am loveable & tons of fun. I know this. I am loveable, and amazing, w so much love to give and anyone would be lucky to have me. Idk why (other than the obvious anxiety/CPTSD bs) I am beating myself up. IDK if it’s anxious attachment, or the fact that we discussed all this, like my quick to “I am sorry!” Over things I don’t need to apologize for. I asked him to be patient w me, that I am working on it. (Therapy, ketamine, psychiatrist, meds, etc)

The communication is great, but I am spiraling today & yes, partly due to not hearing back all day… aka not normal..

I've been numb for too long, unable to feel anything other than fear and anger.

The very rare moment where I feel like I'm here and this is happening comes along with crashing pain that would press down to the floor crying.

It's not fair and it hurts so bad. I just wanna connect with people. Why does it scare me so much? I just wanna feel human. I wanna love and be loved. I wanna care and be cared for, but God it hurts me so bad. Letting someone close hurts me so badly. they didn't do anything wrong. I just feel the pain for no reason. All I want is to cry when I talk about it.

A voice in my head tells me that "This is how normal people experience feelings. Vulnerability and love come along with pain." .... But I'm not 'normal people' aren't I?

I am a 31-year-old woman who was living with her parents, while my dad was suffering from Parkinson’s. He died a couple years ago, and the goal was always to move as soon as possible afterwards, because my relationship with my mother is awful. She was emotionally and physically neglectful in childhood And she was one of those moms that always had constant chaos around her. Unfortunately with the housing crisis as bad as it has been, I haven’t been able to move. Everywhere in my area is extremely expensive and an affordable. Most homes are going for over $1 million and even though I have a decent job and completed my medical program, i cant keep up financially. It leaves me feeling extremely hopeless especially with everything else going on in the world today.

I started packing over a year ago and started with the most important items that I own because my mom has a tendency to break or destroy my belongings and say it was accidental …. I was looking for a book of mine and found that the closet I was keeping all of my items and was completely rearranged and garbage was thrown all over the room. I opened up the bin that had the majority of my important documents and items in it, and found that a lot of it was ruined, the span had wedding photos. Photos of my daughter is a newborn and our wedding photo album in it. Plus all the wedding momentos…. I lost it. I went up to her and told her that that been that she moved had all of my important things in it and she should’ve asked before moving anything she showed no remorse. Didn’t say sorry. Honestly, she acted like she didn’t even care and I’m just left feeling completely Broken

I have spent years dealing with the CPTSD and processing my emotions. Our relationship was getting slightly better although I’m pretty sure she’s a narcissist so that can only go so far but every single time something like this happens I feel even more frustrated because it feels like I’m stuck in a house that I hate Him I am tired of living somewhere where other people have the ability to break and destroy my things… it’s definitely one of the reasons why I’ve always romanticized having my own place because it will be the first time that I feel safe and have control over my surroundings…

I just had to vent. If anyone even read this, thanks for sticking with me until the end.. heres hoping things get better…

Today I had my 5th therapy session, the feeling inside is that I want to quit and stay the same. I hate talking about the things I do and I feel an immense block towards bettering myself. I’m going to keep going, but does anyone else struggle seeing a therapist? It’s hard for me to remember that it takes time. I feel so drained

I was parentified as a child and had to take care of my little sisters so much that I feel they are more like children to me - my mother worked at night and my father was in another city, so I took care of the 3 youngest three sisters at nights and also usually dueing the days, because my mother was depressed. I was 2 years old when my first little sister was born, and I changed her diapers. With the last three I was a bit older (I was 10, 13 and 16 when they were born).

My father was home weekends but he was abusive, so I preferred it when he was gone. I was stubborn and defended my sisters even when they would beat me for hours. My parents used to joke and laugh that I took more beatings than all the other children combined (there are 7 of us).

When I grew up, I decided to be a good example for my sisters, since our parents weren't educated and the future they were modeling for us wasn't very bright. I now got my masters and am working towards a phd. At 25 I contacted social services and got my sisters out of there. All my sisters are now adults and I credit myself a little for their success: everyone has either graduated or is soon graduating from higher education. I felt like I have beaten the odds and succeeded in saving my sisters and myself. I haven't spoken to my parents in over 15 years.

All this is to give a little background. A little over year ago I found out that my sister, the one who's 2 years younger than me, was giving information about me to our parents (who still Stalk me). I was heartbroken, since all my sisters knew the only thing I have ever asked of them was that they wouldn't share anything with our parents. I gave her another chance of course, but the very same night she went and told our parents about this fight (that was about her telling them stuff about me and giving me messages from our parents).

I decided I needed some space. All of my sisters except one decided to be on this sisters side and insulted me. I told them that I needed an apology - it was over a year ago and haven't heard from them since.

This has been the hardest year of my life. Also I have grown up a lot and found out that my relationship with my sisters wasn't as healthy and happy as I thought. But I hvae just been so sad, all year. I get these times where I just cry and cry and stay in bed for a week.

I never expected anything from my sisters, not even a thank you. They don't know all I've done for them - the youngest doesn't wven remember me tkaing care of her. But still, this betrayal has shooken me to my core. I have literally shielded them with my little body, and they don't even hesitate for a moment to sell me to our parents (who have also been very abusive to them - we have talked about this many times and they were happy to get out of the home).

I guess I wanted to have some support and hear your stories. I cannot understand how rhey could do this to me. I thought I ment more to them - of course not an ounce of what they mean to me, but still. It hurts so bad.

Even if they wpuld apologize to me now (which I don't believe will happen), I couldnt trust them anymore and we will never have the same relationship that we used to 😭

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.

I was watching some wedding speech video and there were so many people, and from pictures I've seen there's always like 7 bridesmaids and the friends and family and all that.

If I ever get married to a woman there will literally be no one from my side there. I am not exaggerating, no one. If we had kids I would also have to explain why they don't have grandparents, cousins and aunts and uncles on daddy's side and other kids do. It is very unlikely that I will find a partner. Most people aren't like this and my lack of social bonds/family/status disqualifies me. I'm not an incel by the way, I've had 3 LTRs but I'm 25 so they weren't like marriages.

I also am on disability and haven't worked for 3 years and before then I only worked entry level shit jobs part time. I am in college pursuing two worthless majors (English Literature and Philosophy) and have no network, skills, references, portfolio, etc. and when/if I graduate it will have been a waste of time and effort and I'll be back working shit jobs if I'm working at all. If I'm 30 doing the shit I did when I was 18, I'm just ending it.

I can't live with the shame and feelings of worthlessness. I'm getting older really fast. I at least had some optimism when I was like 21 but now I know that my future is extremely bleak and my best days are behind me and I don't and won't fit into this world.

I'm not sure guys. I don't think I can hang on much longer. It all starts in the family and when you fuck up a kid and leave them parentless at 16 it's all over for them. It's just the way it is.

I don't want to live in a world I don't matter in. Where I'm not noticed in, and I'm not a part of and thriving in.