Hello my friends. All these posts about my experiences with childhood abuse, neglect, parental abandonment, endangerment, exploitation, toxic shaming, scapegoating and gaslighting about it all, are painful to write. Today's post is especially uncomfortable because it is so very sad and scary. It makes me physically ill to think about. But the toxins have to be lanced or I will never find peace.
What spurred this was that Saturday, I had an out of nowhere physical shutdown. It just came on me in the middle of a musical festival I'd been looking so forward to attending. All of a sudden I got dizzy, shaky and felt like I was going to faint. My chest hurt and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt terrible for my husband who was enjoying himself but I had to get out of there immediately. I almost didn't make it to the car without collapsing. It felt like the sidewalk was sucking me in.
And this may sound really weird, but it felt a lot like it did when I was "roofied." A few years ago, I was slipped Rohypnol at an event. I can't prove it but I had all the symptoms. My husband was there, thank God. I don't know how it happened but I have my suspicions about this guy sitting at our table. Whether it was meant for me or not, I don't care. It was terrible. Husband says he's never seen me anything like that.
I had been dancing, got very dizzy all of a sudden and stumbled back to the table. It was so embarrassing, but by the time I got there, I was incoherent. I remember almost none of it. I know that my husband carried me home and my son helped get me to the couch because they told me. I woke up from the soundest sleep I've had in decades, totally confused. My cat was sleeping near me and he only did that when I was sick.
This experience Saturday felt a lot like that only it came on slowly. I had ordered some food but was unable to eat it. We had a beer each but I'd only had a few sips. It was very hot and dry and I'd forgotten my allergy medication. I have also been dealing with several autoimmune problems (arthritis and psoriasis). I'm sure some dehydration and allergy symptoms were involved. But that was not the whole story, I'm convinced.
Psychologists and Youtubers Dr. Ramani and Patrick Teahan have talked about the physical effects from childhood trauma. And what they describe is, to a T, what I felt: confusion, disorientation, shortness of breath, collapse, dizziness, fainting.
I've had fainting episodes during pregnancy. I know what it feels like when they come on. This was different. I've had panic attacks which are similar. This was worse. I've had migraines which are more painful (and also symptoms of childhood trauma). There was no pain with this except in my chest. It felt like what I think an early stage heart attack in women might feel like. It was terrifying.
I'd been feeling it coming on for several hours but ignored the warning signs. Because that's what I do. When I feel sick, I feel ashamed. I believe I'm showing off like my dad said. I feel like I'm ruining other people's fun. I think others think I'm faking. Or malingering. Which isn't fair but I can't help it. It's knee-jerk. Because that's how parents and their spouses treated me. They had little compassion, zero empathy and much blame for me.
I believe, worst of all, that I always bring everything on myself. That my pain or needs are an inconvenience or annoyance. That I'm getting in someone's way. That their problems, no matter how trivial are more important than mine. That by being sick or in need, I'm preventing them from getting what they need. It's always my fault. Because I was taught all that.
When I was sick as a child, it was ignored. Or I was told to quit being lazy. Or showing off. All through my life, any illness was weaponized against me or to leverage sympathy for my from parents. I spent so much time sick and alone that it would never occur to me to ask for help from adults. That is just being "needy" or "selfish." My job was to give, not receive.
I well remember, beginning around age, 6, that sick feeling in my stomach, knowing they expected me to do so many confusing, adult things perfectly well and not having a clue how to. Of knowing I had to serve, serve, serve and not having enough resources, let alone maturity, to do it all. Of being 14, feeling exhausted, burned out, asleep on my feet, yet knowing I had to keep going. Of feeling so responsible for others and having no idea what to do. Of just trying and trying, failing and failing to please. Of feeling so wretchedly guilty about it all.
It comes flooding over me in wave upon wave of shame and guilt. It comes back to haunt me nightly, in dreams and nightmares. Even writing this now, I feel guilty. I should be out working or helping or fixing or serving. Not wasting time on self-indulgent self-pity. (My dad's words, in my head).
But yet I write. Because maybe someone somewhere out there needs to hear this. Maybe I need to hear this. Because as I think of it, perhaps God allowed what happened on Sat, to show me how pervasive and devastating are the effects of parental abuse and neglect and the ensuring CPTSD. To see how very sick and dangerous is child endangerment, abandonment, exploitation and toxic shaming. To see how hurt and frightened, is little me.
I think too that He is warning me that it was and is really bad and I need help dealing with it. I think He's showing me that because I have been so roundly dismissed, ignored, shamed and gaslit that I'm doing now doing these things to myself. I'm ignoring and powering thru what I should be paying close attention to.
I believe He is saying that I am NOT too sensitive as my dad said. That I'm not showing off. That I'm not being "disloyal." Or a bad family member. Or disobedient. I'm not the problem. I have problems because of the was I have been treated. I'm not exaggerating, I'm minimizing. I'm not too sensitive, I'm not sensitized enough to my needs and feelings.
It still feels weird. It probably always will. But as AA says, fake it till ya make it.
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