What my CPTSD and parentification nightmares look like and how they are destroying me

 Hi friends. Welcome to another snapshot of my personal hell. I've been exploring how my parents and stepparents abused, neglected, abandoned, parentified, exploited, shamed and then gaslit me about it all. Today I'm looking at how a lifetime of constant, nightly nightmares have resulted and how they are destroying me.  

Destroyed is a big scary word. But it describes to a T the complete obliteration of self that happens to a child that is abused and neglected and abandoned and exploited and parentified and shamed and gaslit about it all. By not one but four parents, each with his or her own brand of terrorism. What started me exploring were the nightly CPTSD nightmares, inability to sleep for more than an hour without waking in a nightmare and constant vigilant anxiety. 

My nightmares feature me constantly being in situations where I'm expected to do many things simultaneously including caring for numerous children (who keep disappearing), cooking, cleaning, laundry, schooling, etc. However I have no idea where I am, whom I'm supposed to be caring for and what I'm supposed to be doing. I don't even know to whom I answer to or why I'm doing these things. I never  have the tools or resources to do it all. 

And the scenario and location keep changing. One minute I'm driving, the next, we're in some kind of large place. Children are constantly getting hurt or lost. Frequently, a child falls into water and drowns. I'm frantic with worry, terrified, exhausted, bewildered and overwhelmed.  The expectations keep changing but one thing remains the same. I and I alone am expected to accomplish these many, varied and vague tasks. 

In my dreams, I'm an adult but I'm being treated like a bad child but I'm being expected to do the work of an adult, all the adults in fact. No one is helping me. I'm carrying the burden about six people, alone. And of course, I'm unable to. 

The "adults" in my dream, always my parents, usually dad and stepmom are angry with me. Furious, spitting angry. In one dream, my dad comes downstairs in his underwear mad because I've awakened him. That is how I most remember my dad, in real life. Angry. I did sort out that dream recently and I'll blog more about it later. 

Often, I dream that I've done something so unspeakably shameful that everyone is disgusted with me. I realize now that what I've done generally involves dysregulation of some kind. I had a meltdown and they saw. I screamed and cried and fainted. Everyone has gathered to tell me what a wretch I am and how they're going to shun me. 

For the longest time, I dreamed that I was missing a child. I'd wake night after night looking for her. My husband would have to reassure me that all was well. But my sleep brain didn't believe him and kept looking. This began when I was teaching, and a student went missing. Later, it was one of my own. 

Later, when I lost two stillborn daughters in 2001 and 2004, I'd dream that the baby I was supposed to be nursing wasn't there. Or that I'd forgotten to care for her. Or that she is lost or stolen. I still have that dream at least twice a week, 23 years later. 

I've had some dreams so often, and they are so real, that I don't always know what's memory and what's dream. I cannot sleep without dreaming. Ever. I wake terrified, crying, screaming and utterly shattered. I live in a kind of half wake half dream fugue. I asked others what their sleep experience was and unilaterally, everyone had had only the occasional bad dream and nothing like mine. 

So I began looking for research into these nightmares and I'll blog more on what I learned later.  

How I'm healing from narcissistic abuse by exploring scapegoating

 

Hello friends of this blog on how I lost 100 pounds without gastric bypass surgery or weight loss drugs. If you follow this blog, you know that  I've been issuing a series of weight loss challenges and this month it's March Madness. But as this month is unfolding, I'm realizing that it's more March Un-Madness or Stop the Madness. Because a lot of what I'm dealing with is addressing, or heck, just admitting, the CPTSD and PTSD madness created by systematic narcissistic from both parents and both step-parents. And as this is stream of consciousness blog, so to speak, what I deal with, you deal with. 

If you came to this blog to find out how I lost 100 pounds, you might be surprised to learn how much weight gain, obesity, etc., has to do with emotional issues. I certainly was. But the more I learn about CPTSD and narcissistic abuse, the more physical health issues I discover those two create. Currently, I'm listening to Youtuber Richard Grannon and he discussed links to sleep apnea, weight gain, out-of-nowhere allergies and immune system disorders, things I've struggled with. 

So that's why I discuss things that may seem unrelated to weight loss. Because part of how I lost 100 pounds was to look at these issues. Actually, the weight loss was just the tip of the iceberg and maybe even the least important way that I'm getting healthier. I'm seeing that often we get the wrong end of the stick. Or at least we only get part of it. Weight loss itself isn't the be-all-end-all. Because it always stems from some deeper emotional issue that needs to attention, too. Does the order of operations matter? Does it matter that I worked on weight loss first and am only now working on the emotional bit? I don't think so. Whether you walk, ride or drive to a destination, you still get there eventually. 

Why do I feel the need to defend why I'm talking about these things? That is part of the narcissistic abuse trauma. I always had to explain myself, in triplicate, why did or didn't do something. And the answer I gave was never good enough. I was tried, found guilty and "executed" before I even did a thing. And I know now that this was (and still is) because I was the scapegoat. A term which means, sacrificial animal. I've said before that I was sacrificed on the altar (pun intended) of marital bliss of both parents in their new relationships. 

If there was a job needed doing, it was mine to do. When someone was upset, hey, "maybe Mary could (insert thing I was supposed to do to make said person happy)" to quote my dad. Never mind how unhappy (tired, sick, hurt) it made me. My step-ma was notorious for weaponizing her "back problems" (I put them in quotes because what I realize now is that what she had was morbid obesity and chronic laziness). So I did all the vacuuming, mopping (hands and knees) and ironing. I had legitimate back problems not due to being overweight but from scoliosis and congenital hip dysplasia. But no one cared about that. 

When one of the big 4 was angry, I was the target. When my siblings did something wrong, I was blamed. When there was a difference of opinion, mine was shamed and theirs was supported. All their combined personal culpability was placed on the scapegoat, me. In their view, I caused their fights. I didn't act like a "family member." I disobeyed. I talked back. I was in the way. They gave their new spouses carte blanche to use and abuse me. When my step-father mocked me and teased me for my breast size, my mother laughed along. 

But no matter how many sins they heaped on scapegoat moi, it was never enough. They still felt guilty and miserable. They still disliked each other. Their children grew up for the most part very irresponsible. These are just logical consequences. And it's also how I  know that it was narcissistic abuse and not good parenting as they gaslit me into thinking. The fact that it all went so horribly wrong. The fact that pour as we might, the black hole never filled up. Two of them have passed, never  realizing or admitting that it was their job to fix themselves, not mine. The other two will probably go the same way. And that's another reason I know it's narcissistic abuse. Their complete lack of responsibility or recognition that it was wrong.  

Why do I need constant reminding that it was abusive? That's the contradictory nature of such abuse. You begin to gaslight yourself and question every. single. thing. you. do. say. feel. believe. I grew up thinking that this was okay. I knew it wasn't okay for others. I did and would never do this to someone else. This created a cognitive dissonance in me for the last 59 years. 

But my 60th birthday present to myself is to get quit of it. And I'm doing that by accepting that I was the scapegoat. That the past is never going to be any different than it was. That they didn't love me or have my best intentions at heart. That when they said they did, it was just so much more narcissistic abuse. 

And the best gift of all? The piece de resistance? I am saying that it was wrong and that I won't allow it to be done to me again. Whatever that needs to look like, be it no contact or refusing or saying no. I will not associate with people who hurt me. I am responsible for me and NO ONE ELSE. (louder of those in the back). NEVER AGAIN. 

So this is how I lost 100 pounds. By detoxing toxic shame and fumigating the gaslighting and doing me and no one else. By becoming a little self-centered myself. So where does this leave me? Even as I write this, the spider's eggs that were planted in my brain are hatching. And their busy yelling at me that I should do thus and such to help my remaining parent and step-parent. That I need to reach out and confront them so that they can heal and get absolution, get ready for heaven, yada yada. (please note: it's still all about them.)  

Tomorrow I'll blog about why I'm not going to do that and why forgiveness is a bad idea. 

CPTSD nightmares, sleep apnea, sleep problems and depression: deadly combination

 Hello friends of this blog on how I lost 100 pounds. I'm coming to you today, not with weight loss success stories but in failure. Failure to figure out how to get a good night's rest  and recover from (or just live with) CPTSD, chronic nightmares, sleep apnea and other sleep problems. And I'm looking for ideas. 

So first, what's CPTSD (also written c-PTSD). It's Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In my case, much of it isn't even post, it's just traumatic stress disorder. Ergo the CPTSD. I've experienced many bizarre and unusual traumas throughout life, particularly in the years from 5-23. These come back to haunt me in constant (all night long, nightly) nightmares and traumatized sleep. I can't seem to get into deep delta sleep and skim the waves on REM and shallower sleep. I'm exhausted all the time. 

I've been diagnosed with Obstructive Sleep Apnea and used a breathing machine (CPAP) for about 8 years. Then I lost weight and the mask no longer fit. Additionally, chronic sinus problems made it impossible to breathe in a CPAP mask. I would have had to get a new expensive CPAP machine and  it didn't seem to be a good solution given I couldn't breathe properly in the CPAP mask. 

So now I try to get by on melatonin, Bach's Flower Essences and Hyland's homeopathic treatments. These help a bit with sleep but I'm still awake 1 to 2 nights a week (actually days because husband works 12-hour nights 5p to 5a, two on, two off. I try to keep up with his schedule when he works. So we're both suffering with Shift Work Disorder of different sorts. 

And nothing has helped the nightmare dreams. They've gotten more intense, crazy, chaotic and disturbing. I frequently dream that I've done some unspeakable thing that everyone is upset with me over. It is never my now family and always my family of origin (both parents remarried with children, two step-parents). I was parentified and made to do the majority of housework, basically a live-in nanny or au pair. 

I never had my own room, bed or even pillow, just whatever anyone had cast off. I was made to sleep with infants and toddlers (including 4 foster children) at both houses. The short periods I did have a room were temporary. I was routinely moved to other rooms to sleep with young children and my room was given to unmarried couples to sleep in (in the early 1970s that was NOT common at all). This happened repeatedly. And I just realized that I wasn't made to share my room with the infant, I was made to sleep in the infants room. It makes a difference. 

There's a lot more to this story and I plan to keep writing my way through it. If anything suggests itself for a sleep aid, please share. Thanks for reading. Love mar. 

How I lost 100 pounds: surprise weight loss secret

Hello friends of this blog on how I lost 100 pounds after age 50 without drugs or gastric bypass surgery. So today I'm sharing a weight loss secret that I'm pretty sure I going to surprise you. It has nothing to do with diet, exercise or the Alanon mental health tips I've shared. So what is this miracle weight loss thing? 

One word: sleep. Or improved sleep. And conversely lack of sleep was part of how I got from normal to overweight to obesity. I've always struggled with PTSD (and ongoing traumatic stress disorder). Since childhood, I have nightly, night-long, terrible and terrifying nightmares. A sleep study showed that I spend about 5 minutes a night in deep delta sleep (normal is about 3-4 hours). I wake up frequently every  night and can't remember the last time I slept 5-6 hours without waking. 

I've been diagnosed with Obstructive Sleep Apnea and used a cpap breathing machine. I have scoliosis, back and cervical arthritis, tendinitis and carpal tunnel syndrome and chronic sinus trouble. I had congenital hip dysplasia as a toddler and it left me with very misaligned back, hips and legs. I struggled with headaches I later learned were migraines. I'm in a lot of pain in many parts of my body all night long. 

Sleep is more of a nemesis than a friend. I used to fall asleep every time I sat down especially when driving. I've nodded off standing up. I walk and talk in my sleep. It made me very unpopular at sleepovers and the butt of a lot of jokes in my family. In many pictures my eyes are half-closed I'm that constantly tired. Even as a child, I was tired a lot. When others were bouncing out of bed at 6 am, I could hardly drag myself out. Often, I was too tired to go out and play and I dreaded organized sports and games because I had so little energy.  

This was in the late 60s early 70s and I don't  know if people were just less informed or didn't care. Apparently a tired kid was an anomaly. Children are supposed to be full of energy so I must just be lazy. Not one of my four parents thought to find out why Marilisa was always tired. They just piled more work on. I was expected to keep up with a lot of chores, wait on adults, made to sleep with young children and get up at night with them, spend long hours caring for foster and half siblings and was essentially parentified by age 10. All that has had a disastrous effect on sleep to this day. 

It didn't even occur to me how critical sleep is to lose weight until I began to blog about how I lost 100 pounds. And I assumed my crazy sleep was normal and just thought I was less good at dealing than those with more energy.  But there's good news. I now have a loving family who didn't blow off my nightmares, sleep talking, chronic pain, apnea, etc. They have been helping me to see that these are not normal and that I need to find ways to sleep better. 

The nightmares and chronic pain haven't abated but together we are exploring ways to make it better. And the best part is that someone cares. I'll blog more about sleep aids I've tried, what works and how it was helpful in weight loss. 

Long haul Covid recovery and still more bizarre and terrifying aftereffects

 

Hi Friends. As part of this blog on how I lost 100 pounds, I like to explore other aspects of health besides just weight loss. 17 months ago, my husband and I got Covid, prior to getting the vaccine. It was by far the most devastating illness I've ever had and I've had some challenging ones. Since officially recuperating from Covid (we're both considered long haul Covid survivors) we've both noticed some bizarre and frankly terrifying aftereffects. 

Earlier I mentioned the hair loss called Covid effluvium. That's weird but not so scary. But the exhaustion, social anxiety and inability to concentrate are more frightening. I've always been a fairly social person. But now I dread going out in public. I can do it for work but just the thought of group activities, even with family, whom I love being with, fills me with anxiety.

I think, in short, it's become a fear of people.  Irrational, yes. But none the less real. Or maybe a fear that I can't communicate. I feel like I'm losing a little more each day. If I'm honest, I have to force myself to interact and would avoid it if I could. And that horrifies me. It has nothing to do with loving others. I'd give my life for them. Just don't ask me to feel comfortable being around them. I'm sitting here crying as I write this because I don't want anyone thinking I don't love, care for, or enjoy them anymore. Because I do, so much more than they'll ever know. I don't tell anyone that I feel this way because I don't want to cause hurt. I can't help it. I don't want it. I didn't ask for it. It's so hard to explain and that makes it even more lonely and scary. 

Add to that I now struggle with remembering, orienting, planning, organizing, paying attention, making decisions and essentially just thinking clearly. I've always had a little ADHD but this is more like a fog or shroud that I'm drowning in. PTSD type dreams I've always struggled with are crazy bad since Covid. Breathing issues have gotten worse. Chronic pain has increased. I pray about it all the time but I can't get through. Just getting by takes strength I often don't have. 

 I know some people deny the reality of Covid or that the symptoms could be that bad. I hesitate to tell anyone because I don't want to face ridicule. It's real. I know it's real. I' think, feel and act differently since having Covid. I am fundamentally different. But if, on top of all the physical, emotional and mental struggles, I should have to deal with shame, I couldn't cope. 

 On a medical level, these symptoms make sense. I suffered a prolonged brain fever, hallucinations,  with extreme dehydration and all that goes along with that. I think we came closer to "life and death" than we realized. But making sense and living with it are two very different things. I'm afraid that I will never overcome it and that this is the new normal that I have no idea  how to live with.

I want my old self back. 

Shift Work Disorder (SWSD) sabotages not only sleep but weight loss too

In this blog on how I lost 100 pounds (without drugs or gastric bypass bariatric surgery), I explore many ways to lose weight and also many links to obesity. From anxiety to Covid 19 and low self-esteem to antidepressants (especially SSRI) there's a lot that goes into it. One link that may surprise you is SWSD or Shift Work Disorder. 

My husband has worked nights (third shift) or afternoon-late evening (second shift) all of our 35 years of marriage. That nocturnal schedule alone messes with biorhythms and causes Shift Work Disorder. But then factor in this swing shift he's (we've) been on for the last five years and SWSD symptoms are off the charts. And add to that,  it's a 12 hour (not traditional 8 hour) night, 5 pm to 5 am.  

How does swing shift cause SWSD? Swing shift means 2 days on, 3 off and 2 on 3 off, 2 on, etc. The schedule rotates or swings back and forth each week with him having Monday off one week and working the next, for example. And he has worked every Saturday for 5 years, either till 5 am (having to sleep a good part of Saturday) or going in at 5 pm and having to sleep most of the day to gear up for the 12 hour night. 

It's hard enough trying to sleep days when humans are diurnal. But sleep disorder really ramp up when, on days off he tries to follow a normal day schedule. We end up staying up late at night because he can't fall asleep at a normal time and has to swing back to nights in a day or two anyway. I'm dealing with shift work sleep disorder too because I stay up with him (so we can actually see each other and do things together) but then work during the day. And I have other sleep disorder issues: arthritis, sleep paralysis, OSA or obstructive sleep apnea and a form of PTSD (traumatic stress disorder) that manifests in sleep disrupted by on-going nightmares. 

To say that our lifestyle is all kinds of dysfunctional is an understatement. Besides insomnia and lack of sleep, disturbed biorhythms cause relationship problems, mood disorders, depression, lack of intimacy, anxiety, stress and anger management. Social life is non-existent. We can't get involved with group activities, kids functions or even go to church regularly. It magnifies all health issues. Even eating habits are affected from eating late at night or at weird times. I've developed digestive problems which my physician is treating as an ulcer. I even suspect that our crazy schedules impacted my later pregnancies and were in part responsible for my two stillbirths. 

Trying to lose weight is super challenging because we literally can't follow the rules on eating such as not after 6 pm. That's when husband has to be awake! He eats breakfast at 3:30 pm, lunch around 10 pm and dinner whenever or never. Also, the weight loss rule about not eating one big meal doesn't work because he doesn't have time to eat several small meals. 

And then there's the comfort eating from being lonely and on opposite schedules from most everyone else. And we're always behind the 8-ball trying to stay awake when the world is asleep and asleep when the world is awake. And exercise is challenging on the night shift.  It's no wonder people with SWSD tend to have more trouble with obesity.  

And this doesn't even begin to address the unfair playing field of nocturnal (second and third shift) vs. diurnal workers. Diurnals sometimes have a hard time understanding why a nocturnal sleeps "so late" in the day. Some preen that they are "early risers" (meaning they get up at 5 am). That's impossible for nocturnals who are just getting out of work. They can't understand why we're "so lazy." But I'd like to see how raring to go they are after having to get up at midnight, go for 18 hours and then flip-flop to 5 am every few days. 

Diurnals also think nothing of making racket during a nocturnals sleep day. Yet if we started up a chainsaw at 2 am, it would be a different story. Anyone who thinks I'm paranoid has obviously never had to live this kind of life. Or they'd see that world completely disregards the third shifter. That's why suicide rates are 25 to 50 % higher. Sad but true. 

We'd love nothing more than to be able to live a more normal life. It's taken its toll. But job opportunities in many industries are almost all second and third shift and a scary lot of them are 12 hour swing shift schedules. 

So this post got a lot bigger than just weight loss and shift work disorder. But that's what I'm finding on this path, how interconnected the aspects of our lives are. To understand health, I'm de-compartmentalizing. Instead of boxing things into a small screen I'm looking at the big picture and the more I do that the more I see how big it is. 

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more on how I lost 100 pounds and a lot of other baggage.