PTSD – I do matter

past present future
all the same

lines blurred or no lines at all


or worse

reality replaced



I’m not psychotic or delusional but it feels that way at times as I’m a prisoner of my brain’s emotional and memory system and nervous system. I feel attacked in my own body. I feel like everyday places are dangerous to me because I feel like a vulnerable 3 year old child. No one held my hand then when the world was scary, no one encouraged or soothed me, no one taught me how to make friends or talk to people. Instead I was beaten down for trying, humiliated, shamed, emotionally tortured as I was isolated from mom, brothers, friends, only allowed to love AF. My brothers and pets were punished for my wrongdoings, causing me to strive for perfection and to further isolate me. AF’s plans were cruel and calculated each step of the way, much further than a little girl could ever know. I was always confused and trying harder to make him happy. The sexual abuse started the same way. At first it was warm and comforting to be held by him. And then his touch was confusing, but I wanted to make him happy. And it escalated over the period of years. I belonged to him – he didn’t have to rush. By the time it was clearly sexual and no  longer affection, I had no idea any boundary had been crossed. I had no boundaries. I wasn’t allowed to have boundaries. I wasn’t allowed to think or feel things – every thought or feeling was for AF and how to make him happy and protect my pets and get perfect grades and have a perfect body. I was already dieting and exercising per his plans in 4th grade and yet he daily called me fat, and daily bought me candy. And always laughed at me.

Some days I’m doing better to get his harsh words out of my head and replace it with compassionate self talk. But I still hear the laughter, his evil, gut wrenching laughter that makes me want to kill myself all over again.

Then I do some grounding exercises, deep breathing, remind myself he is gone, I’m a grown up, and I can keep going and keep making healthier choices for myself even though it is hard and scary and every time I try I hear him laughing at me.

Maybe one day I won’t. And that is why I keep trying. No matter how many days and how many times I crumple to the floor in fear and tears from the memory of what he did to me, I will eventually get back up, try again, because maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be the day that I WON’T hear him laugh at me. And I’ll never know that if I give up today.

And he can’t win this. he just can’t.

I do matter.


6 thoughts on “PTSD – I do matter

  1. Yes, you DO matter – probably more than you realize. Your story matters too and I feel privileged to read it. Sometimes what we do to ourselves with thoughts and emotions is scary. I’m on this journey with you – hugs to you!

  2. That is so honest, and horrifying, and makes me angry at such a despicable, evil, less than human being.
    Yes, you do matter. The evil laughs will fade, especially when or if you can counter them each time with something that brings joy, or soothing encouragements in equal measure.

  3. You have great courage to write your story…your feelings…your emotions…it will me and others to honor and listen to our deeper self. I am truly sorry for all the suffering you endured in your very young life…it angers me what AF did to you…he must be one sorry human being. No one deserves what you went through—do not let him win—keep getting up…and remember you are NOT alone…we are each getting up with you…and together we are stronger! I do believe we live in the Heart of God—and that thought keeps me alive…may you feel it too…and in your profound silence of soul, may you feel the gentle presence of that Divine Mother Love!

  4. Hugs….it sucks when the abuser moves into your head. Still working on evicting mine, each day gets a little easier. I’ve reached the point where ‘his’ words are just stupid and boring like he was. Next step is to lay him to rest in the grave he is already in. Progress comes. We realize at some of the most unexpected times… the day I felt wonderfully happy stuck in rush hour traffic. It will come.

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