Hi friends. The further I go toward unpacking my childhood trauma, the more I realize how it has affected my entire being. Every thought, act, word is tainted by abuse and neglect by four dark tetrad parents. There's no corner of my life that it has not infiltrated. Because, as the saying goes, old sins cast long shadows. And the Bible says the sins of the fathers shall be visited down the generations. Today I'm exploring cringy and frankly pathetic things CPTSD makes me do.
Fawn. See also cower, grovel, kowtow, appease, sacrifice. I have literally presented myself, like a female animal in mating, for any weird, sick, disgusting thing someone wants to do. I have offered myself up on a platter to anyone who wanted a piece. Because I was groomed and gaslit to believe that not to was selfish.
Jump at my own shadow. You know if you've read earlier posts how I hate with a red shooting passion that stupid expression faith over fear. Easy to say if you've been taught to be confident. If you've been terrorized and told to be afraid, by dark tetrads it's quite another thing. So don't lecture me, buddy, on fear. I've been in situations that would make you soil yourself. So yes, I look ridiculous when a balloon goes off and I hit the dirt. No shit. They don't call it CPTSD for nothing.
Tilt at windmills. I have fought off what appeared to be imaginary foes. But they were real. It's just that I couldn't safely do battle with them at the time of the actual threat. So now, my sense of danger is destroyed. I see it where it doesn't exist and miss it when it does. But these are offensive moves but defensive. I'm warding of blows, sort of.
Bring a flower to a gunfight. I don't come prepared for fights because I also lack proper weapons and armor because I was never given any. I was only groomed to obey and allow hurt. You know how they say kids are so resilient? Bullshit. Traumatized children are little messes of scars and wounds. And any resilience and fight-back we once had has been shot to hell. All we know to do in the face of danger is smile weakly and hold out a little dandelion bouquet.
Stumbly feebly. I literally fall a lot. I'm a clumsy klutz. Probably because I've been reduced by so much harm, to being legless and armless, like Monty Python's Black Knight. I've only got bloody stumps where limbs once grew. I'm mentally disabled. What's holding me together, I'm not sure. I hope it's God.
Babble incoherently. Because I've bitten my tongue so much there's not much left. And because I'm always mentally editing what I say in case it angers someone. I don't even allow myself to think many things. When I do talk freely, I'm scared to death of the response.
Overreact. And sometimes, all this repression, shame, frustration and helpless hopelessness just busts out and I can't check it and so I wreck myself. I try really hard not to wreck others. Even those who have provoked the overreaction. And overreact is such a tidy word for what is a horribly messy process. Nuclear meltdown might be better.
These are just a few of the ridiculous and awkward things I've been taught to do. And been shamed for doing. Because many people have a bad habit of fault-finding, based on ignorant arrogance. These street preachers haven't experienced childhood trauma like we have. They have been given tools and resources and support which we haven't.
Even just calling it ridiculous myself is buying into this judgey preachy thing we do. What it is is sad. If you see someone doing these things, say a prayer and offer a hand. Reach out in empathy and save the holier than thou for when you are falling apart. Judge, judge thyself. That's what the Bible and common courtesy requires. You know, Good Samaritan and all that. Because not all wounds are visible. Some only show up in the behavior they cause.
If you can't help, at least don't hinder. Just shut up, move on and take your self-righteous attitude with you. And remember what Jesus said about the measure you use on others being used on you.
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