childhood trauma
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It’s common knowledge that if you need mental health support of any kind NOT to go to anyone you know – it’s too close for comfort. I admit, I went against that tenet and had a session of hypnotherapy back in April 2024, two month after I’d had the punch in the gut and kick… Read more
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Until last week, I’d had a five week hiatus from from therapy – or should I say counselling (same difference really). Quite a gap considering I started off with weekly sessions and in some instances, I recall having two sessions in one week when my emotions were boiling over, feeling seriously messed up and dysregulated.… Read more
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(continued from part 1) After the unholy trinity left, Mum and I were alone and the hunted. Completely cut off and ostracised by any family we had, (she was the divorced black sheep of the family), I learned that I had to keep my sword drawn and be on guard 24/7, chronic anxiety alarming me… Read more
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I know I had a “Babadook” living in me for a very long time… (and it’s taken me weeks to try and write this post which is siginificant in itself). It’s just too huge a subject in my life. No, I never coined the phrase ‘Babadook’. It’s a movie I was drawn to watch about… Read more
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I’ve been wondering lately: is there a gift in my childhood trauma? Is there something beautiful in the bad, some sort of meaning that I need to find? Is there something to learn from my painful experiences to help me live differently, to mould and shape my life and make better choices? The questions arose… Read more
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I’m wondering if anything has really changed or healed since I started this memoir a year ago….whether the little girl in me is unfrozen from time and released from the anguish she’s been trapped in for decades. I pondered last year when I started the blog: ‘I wonder where I’ll be a year from now”,… Read more
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….a continuation (there’s too much to say…) The unholy trinity abandoned us knowing all of the dangers, without any warning, without a conversation; devoid of an explanation, without a care in the world. They were like sisters to me. I’d grown up with them from a baby. They were all I knew and I loved… Read more
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I originally started this post on Sunday; it’s now Friday. In fact, I wrote it and published it in one fell swoop on Sunday night. But after I published there was a distinct uncomfortable feeling within me, a disjointedness, an awkwardness, a strange feeling of deep shame surrounding what I’d written. I don’t know why… Read more
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I’ve been unable to write for over a week. And I’ve been reading too many novels. My creativity has felt crooked and crumpled down within me, concertinaed like a less-than-pretty origami shape that I didn’t know how to undo; I’ve been feeling like a tangled mess (like my split ends all mangled together) and I… Read more
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A lot of people call themselves “big kids” don’t they? “I’m just a big kid”. I said it last night to someone at a new yoga-type class I went to. Big kid is a euphemism for adult child. Imagine saying that “yeah, I’m an adult child”. Doesn’t sound so cool does it? How many other… Read more