I’m not going to tell anyone my name, who I am, where I live etc. It’s inconsequential. Anonymity in a digital world is priceless. A writer is what I should have become all my life and a huge part of me that I left on the shelf at 16-ish, (because I was angry with the world but that’s another post for another day). So I’m writing, right now and it feels cathartic. And I guess I simply want to document my journey of healing my childhood pain and trauma, step by step, as it unfolds in my life although I may go off an tangent now and again. Perhaps what I write might benefit someone else also on this journey of healing. There’s probably loads of you out there who have have had some sort of trauma in your childhood that unbeknownst to you has controlled your life somewhere within the depths of your body and psyche. Writing this anonymously will allow me to to say whatever I want to say without a filter and without the worry being judged or people knowing who I am (who might read these posts) and avoid any possible retribution, criticism or vitriol in the process. There is a fragility if you’ve had trauma. It explains one’s over-sensitivity.
Here’s where it started in 2024: I got MASSIVELY triggered on the events immediately following 14 February this year by a so called friend (who I thought was a good, genuine, authentic, caring, kind, loving friend and whom I considered a close confidante), and may I add, a friend who I actually LOVED like an aunt or a sister, who dumped me/disassociated/distanced herself from me, OVERNIGHT, and I mean *literally*, *overnight*, not a few weeks, overnight, after I asked her partner for some help as my newly-made malignant narc ex of just two months (The Narc ex was hassling me in his classic entitled-and-unhinged manner, bombarding with sexually disparaging and verbally abusive texts and emails topped off with a deranged delivery of flowers to my home on Valentines Day which oozed of “I know where you live” sentiment; loves got nothing to do with it). I won’t go into the story on this post of The Narc, maybe on another one. But the passive aggression of that ‘fiend’ (no not friend) tip toeing away like a thief in the night when I was already feeling vulnerable, without a single word or explanation, triggered me, mahoosively, landing on me like a bombshell out of the blue, erupting the wounds of childhood abandonment and female betrayal which came gushing up to the surface and I’m reeling from it. It has hurt so much that our friendship meant nothing to her and held absolutely no value whatsoever when to me it meant a lot. To think I was disposable like a piece of rubbish (when the day before, 13 February I was at her house ALL DAY helping her with some issues she had). And even during the daytime on the 14 February I was messaging her about The Narc. Then the next day, unceremoniously cut off, completely. This so called friend who I loved like a sister, vanishing out of my life so suddenly and without a word has been a monumental blow that I didn’t see coming; it added insult to injury, a kick in the teeth, a punch in stomach and a kick in the ribs to finish me off when I was already down, trying to manage the emotional rollercoaster of my split with The Narc, my then ex of barely two months who I’d already reported to the Police which she was fully cognizant of as my then confidante.
I know, I’m rambling. Feels like I’m puking up on the page.
What a despicable, morally rephrehensible cunt. It’s not the first time in my life that a so called female friend has ‘dropped’ me over minor situations. To be kicked to the side and abandoned like that has left me shocked and agahst – I can’t get over it. But it is a recurring theme in my life unfortunately for me. And not having any family means my friends are more precious to me. Maybe she sensed that? But in middle age, I realise that I don’t have a safe and secure unit of close friends as they have dropped out of my life for reasons I’ll never know. Maybe I was too needy? I don’t know. I have only one person whom I consider close to me. And that makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me????
People can be such selfish bastards can’t they? In fact it’s a cunt-ish thing to do, what she did. But what she did made me realise that my unhealed childhood was still lingering and percolating in the background, and had reared it’s ugly head again. I’ve got some healing to do, not a little, but A LOT of healing!
Up until now what I didn’t realise up until now is that I’ve been living in a traumatised body all my life and suffering from CPTSD probably for most of my life. It kind of landed on me like a ton of bricks. Yes, I had a shitty childhood. But I never labelled my shitty childhood as traumatic and I never labelled myself as having CTPSD. But after reading a book called, Healing from Trauma: A Survivor’s Guide to Understanding Your Symptoms and Reclaiming Your Life (please look it up I’m not going to put links in here) in which I magically wanted to find ‘a cure’ I recognised the physical, psychological and psycho-spiritual symptoms she describes, that I am still experiencing now. Hence I realised I’m a trauma victim. And there is nothing wrong with saying that you’re a vicitm of trauma. It doesn’t mean you have a victim mentality.
Anyway in my scattered and impatient way, I started looking for answers on how to heal trauma, overloading and overwhelming myself with a mini library full of books and watching back-to-back YT videos on healing the vagus nerve to cold exposure to breathwork to yoga, from Peter Levine to Gabor Mate and Therapy in a Nutshell to the Crappy Childhood Fairy (and everything inbetween). Suffice to say I’ve burned out very quickly and spiralled once again this week.
However, I am determined to heal and writing this blog is one way of cathartically allowing myself to express my emotions on this journey of finding my true self again under the rubble of the pain. I want to see how far I can evolve in the next 12 months so these writings can enable me to look back and see how far I’ve come and how my healing has progressed…..there’s a lot more I can write but I’ll save it for another day….
If baring my soul to you (and the world) has moved or touched a part of you in any way, then your support would be very welcome. To help me on this healing journey, perhaps you’d like to buy me a coffee (although mines a tea) via the link below:
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