Tag Archives: PTSD

Eff…

Fuck it all!

That’s how I’m feeling today.

Fuck it all!

I have no filter.

Who the fuck cares?

I have no filter.

Fuck rape!

Fuck unwanted touch!

Fuck white men of power!

Fuck it all!

I’m so fucking over this country!

Fuck it all!

Legalize sex with children so it can’t be a crime.

What the fuck?

Seriously are you fucking kidding me?

Why are we even entertaining this?

Fuck it all!

A president…

Fuck him!

Fuck it all!

The Swear Word

That word.

That one five letter word.

A word meant to identify,

Now a swear word.

An unfortunate series of events to make it that way.

That five letter word is a beautiful word.

A five letter word passed down.

That five letter not a swear wird to you.

They made it that way to me though.

That five letter word.

Kelly

Not Only

Last night I actually slept.

Not only did I sleep I dreamt.

No only did I dream I remembered my dream.

Not only did I remember my dream, I awoke with a smile.

Whoever said, “sleep is overrated”, has never walked a day in my shoes.

Sleep is not “overrated” it’s a beautiful wonderful thing, when it doesn’t torture you.

You Learn

What do you do when there is something about you won’t be able to change? Like having a mental/behavioral health problem that is just part of you?

You learn to be “okay” with “not being okay”.

You learn to listen to their words and only their words even if you cannot process them while they’re saying them.

You learn to process them when your head is silent.

You learn to say there is just too much.

You learn that they love you.

You learn to trust.

You learn everything you can.

You learn to fail.

You learn to pick yourself back up.

And even when you believe you’re not good enough, that your not loveable, you’re not worth it, you allow their words to come through at the end of the day and start again tomorrow.

You learn to be okay with being you.

You learn to be patient with yourself.

You learn to be patient when they’re not patient with you.

You learn that you’ll never be perfect.

You learn you’re loved anyway.

You learn to leave the room, escape to the dark, and breathe.

You learn to breathe.

You learn when you can come back to the situation.

You learn that even though you would love for someone to wrap their arms around you, they shouldn’t just yet.

You learn to be okay with that.

You allow yourself to be okay with good touch when your panicking.

You learn that those touching you only have your best interest at heart.

You learn that even though you may freak the fuck out when they come close to you or touch you, to take a breath and look at them.

You learn that seeing their face can change “who you’re seeing”.

You learn to come back to reality when you see their loving faces.

You learn to let them know to ask before touching when you’re upset.

You learn to feel loved when sad.

You learn to feel loved when mad.

You learn to feel loved when joyous.

You learn to allow yourself to feel loved in all parts of your life.

You learn that you are stronger than you’ve ever imagined.

You learn that you will feel weaker than you’ve ever imagined.

You learn to lose control.

You learn to be in control.

You learn try to change only what you can.

You learn to embrace every day with hopeful anticipation.

You learn love harder.

You learn that some may never see your progress.

You learn that even if they do they’ll forget sometimes.

You learn that you are difficult to love.

You learn that all people are.

You learn that you’re stopping yourself from feeling love.

You learn that it’s because love has always hurt.

You learn that you must learn to be okay with being loved.

You learn to learn how to be loved.

I write this list because I learn daily. I am only able to write this list because all these things were taught to me in therapy or by my doctor. I write them for you to learn too.

“Kelly leave the room she said” I do now. I lay in my dark black room, on my cold foam bed, under my weighted blanket curled up tight, and cry and breathe. I patiently await the moment I can rejoin my family and sometimes I cannot.

I desire that hug, that warm loving embrace. I learned sometimes it’s not the best thing to do right away.

I learn to fight the feeling of aloneness in those moments, because I know it’s me choosing to remove myself from the situation so it doesn’t escalate. I have learned that if I am touched or talked to too soon it’s a problem.

I learn every single day.

Unlike most I analyze my “episodes” afterward. I pick myself and my behavior apart, just like I’ve been doing my whole life. When you’re not only parenting your parents, but yourself you don’t always learn how to cope and properly handle stress…no one ever taught you but who? You!

So I analyze. I research different strategies and inspiration quotes and messages. I listen to podcasts. I read blogs. I try to figure out how to help myself and what is going on in my body. I am 35 no mom, no dad, and I don’t say that for sympathy, this is a conscious decision on my part and I am getting so much better now and quicker. I am able to better parent my “unruly inner child”, even though I’m parenting her while I’m messing up. So yeah just like anyone being disciplined she doesn’t like it.

It’s a terrible thing for people who don’t really know you, never taken the time to really get to know you to think that you are unwilling to learn. When I am the first person to see my flaws, point them out, ask for help, and try to fix it.

I mean on my first date with my fiancé I told him every reason not to pursue me. I didn’t know about some mental health things that would later come out as a result of my traumas, but when they did come up I was the first to ask questions and to try and find answer.

The reason I’m not on my therapist couch anymore isn’t because I don’t have anything left to learn, it’s that he has taught me everything he could teach me in his office to get through life. He taught me how to cope. He taught me how to be okay when the feel like my loves don’t love me or don’t want me. He and my doctor taught me that no matter how much my loves want to not take it personally they’ll never be able not too, and I’ll never be able to not hurt because I hurt them. I learned from them and now my 16 year old 3 days that they don’t hurt the way I think they do. That they hurt because they love me and they want me to be free from this too.

My therapist taught me that when I mess up that my core belief of grace, that I myself am worthy of grace. That if I believe that God’s love is grace and mercy and patience, and I believe that everyone should love everyone with the bare minimum of grace, then I too am worthy of graceful type love.

The challenge is on me to believe all that I have been taught. I have already learned and I continue to do so, because only a fool refuses to learn.

The only thing I need to learn is to believe what I’ve been taught…

Triggered…

You know sometimes being triggered can be really productive. Being triggered by a discussion, a seemingly harmless conversation usually defeats me, not tonight though. I did cry and that’s okay, but I’m pretty certain I’ve figured something very beneficial out.

Tonight’s trigger made me realize why I want to run away from those that love me most whenever there is the slightest bit of tension in my relationships.

Maybe my parents should have rethought the words, “If you don’t like it leave. Stop your bitching or move the fuck out. Cry and complain, cry and complain Kelly if it’s really that bad and you don’t like it that much just go to Nikki’s and don’t come home. Shut up and only speak when you’re spoken to. If you don’t like it tough shit do it anyway.”

I think I panic during tension in my relationships because I fear being pushed aside and forgotten about just because of a bad day or two. Like I am not worthy of someone going through all the things of life with me like I would do for them.

I totally love people so much that I’d lay my life down for people I love and I think everyone is worthy of that kind of love. Yet, because of my parents I learned that everyone is everyone else, but me.

The best thing about telling her to, “Take an Long fucking walk off a short fucking pier”, and allowing myself to really grieve the loss of my parents (yes I know they are alive, no difference though), is that I am starting to remember who does love me. I’m at that stage of grief where you decide to take back your life.

The point where even though you may need to talk it through out loud and internally practice your coping mechanisms, all while allowing yourself to feel the overwhelming emotion, all while trying to stay in reality, and saying “I am so afraid you three here will just push me aside and forget about me too”.

Personally for me I’ve prayed and worked hard to get to a point where I could become my own counselor. When my loves aren’t around these past couple days I’ve been practicing a new technique.

If I have a negative thought I will combat it with a truth that I have been told. Maybe it’s confirming statement like, “yes you are difficult to love some days, but so is everyone somedays.”

Then I follow it up with an example of when someone I love was difficult to love. Maybe it’s a time when my then 8 year was stripping his clothes off at 8 pm every night regardless of where we were just because of sensory overload. Maybe it’s when some said something that hurt my feelings. Just anything really that made that person difficult to love; a behavior, a comment, an action or inaction. Whatever it may be.

Once I identify that moment I then ask myself a very important question, “Did you still love them afterwards?” The answer is yes, and if it is ever anything other than that it will be time to examine why; that’s what happened with my parents. I felt no love for them and I needed to understand why. I mean I love them as people and wish only the best for them, but there is no real like daughter-parent type love there. I examined why and I made that decision 2 months ago, life is getting better and better every day because of it.

I then ask myself, “how does it make you feel when so-and-so is hard to love?” I identify how I feel and say to myself, “if you feel this way what do you think they feel? Why would they feel any differently than you would? If this hurts you why wouldn’t it hurt them?”

Asking myself these things helps be able to understand the most important thing at the end of it all, that just like me, just because I don’t like something or someone for that moment it doesn’t mean I don’t love them, and that is no different for me.

It’s okay for someone to be mad at me and not like me so much in that moment, without me thinking they’re going to banish me from their life and kick me out of my home, and take everything I have and love away from me forever. That what was my normal was extreme and what normal is to have healthy tension and get through it in healthy ways.

Running is not healthy and I don’t like feeling like I want to run away before someone has the chance to throw me away. I am so thankful to God for all the triggers He gives me, because I learn from them. It may take a long time to figure out what He is trying to reveal to me, but I do know if I am continually fighting the same demon and I’m failing and failing and failing, I better listen harder because I’m probably missing Gods voice in there somewhere.

I am also so thankful that God led me to the counselor He did. He is a progressive type counselor and his goal is to get you off his couch and out in the world (that’s how I summarize what he does), and he uses a technique called Reality Therapy. It is the very technique I just walked through with you. Just consider it “A Day in the Life Of Kelly” type thing.

Again another conversation that ended in tears; what’s new with me right? This time the tears and the pain was very productive. Once I’m aware, usually if I make my love and little loves aware one of them will hug me, but all three of them know what and how to help me fight for my freedom.

How come?

How come?

How can I see that others deserve it?

How can I not think I do?

How can it not be okay for someone else to go through but okay for me?

How can I not see that what I would fight for someone else for I myself am worthy of?

How come I was not only shown but told that I wasn’t worth my basic rights?

How come I’m failure?

How come I’m a loser?

How come I’ll never be anything more than, “a lazy fat bitch”?

How come?

I took this picture a while ago. It seems fitting for this though.

Parenting my Unruly Inner Child

That phrase, “you’re bringing out the inner child in me”, is familiar and usually said when something is making you giddy and excited and happy. We know that when we hear these words someone really likes what is happening. What if I told you that your inner child is not just something sparked by a fun filled exciting moment, but for many people their inner child is a direct result of childhood trauma of some kind.

Maybe this person was in a bad car accident or was injured in some kind of way. Maybe a parent or loved one died and that child was traumatized by that loss. Maybe for some like me that trauma was long, hidden, and multiple different forms. Whatever the trauma was it is still trauma nonetheless. What is traumatic to you might not be traumatic to me and what’s traumatic to me not be traumatic to you. Trauma is just as unique as being an individual is; it comes in many different sizes, shapes, and forms and is open to interpretation by the person or person experiencing it.

For me my inner child is independent and fierce. She takes no shit from anyone because she has taken too much already. My inner child is less insecure than before, but still insecure. She is scared. She is loud. She is stubborn. She is her own person. Sometimes a word or a color or a smell or a show or a song, or any number of things can trigger her. She begins to panic and she has no clue what to do. She just talk and cries and tries to make sense of it all. Not only is my inner child scared, but she in confused.

She is waiting and expecting someone to tell her to, “shut” her “loud mouth and just be quiet. You are to be seen not heard and I keep hearing you when I should just be seeing you”. She expects that every word that comes out of her mouth will be disregarded and laughed at. She fears if she says, “No” then she won’t be liked. She fears that if she says that, “I don’t like that” or, “I don’t enjoy that”, or any number of things that convey that convey she isn’t liking something that she will automatically be called a “complainer” and told to, “just stay home next time” or to, “just play by your damn self, fuck!”

She feels that she is everyone’s burden and that no one could ever really want to take care of her or to help her out without expecting something in return, so she strives to be even more independent and self-sufficient. She doesn’t even know who she is besides Kelly. Her name is her identity. She really finds her peace and joy in what everyone else loves, even if she doesn’t particularly find it interesting, she was taught to enjoy it, or else no more…ever. She makes a mess of things.

I never had anyone really parent me. I was hit with brushes, had cigarettes put out on my skin, I was beat with a dog leash (blog post on that), I was hungry, I was made to stand in the corner for 8+ hours (without food or beverage or bathroom breaks), I was sexually assaulted repeatedly and for the most part it was allowable my mom knew she say “stop”, but yeah, “we all” had “to live here, Kelly” was a popular thing to say. You see there was so much. When I’d get birthday money they’d take it. When I got a job, I paid their bills I heard, “please KellBell buy my this I love you”…I was a 12 you assholes, 12!

When I got a bigger paychecks, when I upgraded from babysitting to a tax paying job I transitioned into paying their bills. When I turned 18 I found out that they had used my name, DOB, and SSN for utilities and satellite and I had bad credit and terrible debt before I had even turned 18 and I am 35 ad I am still paying for it. Not fair. Not cool. Don’t like. But what can I do? Pay it or remain in their debt and control for the rest of my life? Fuck that shit! I have dreams. I have goals. I am almost out of debt (minus student loans, which don’t even get me started on that). I was always home alone or trying to find a friend to stay with.

We didn’t have a working land-line phone so I never was one of those girls or teenagers that would get phone calls or be on the phone. I actually hate being on the phone it causes me so much anxiety. We didn’t have the internet. We didn’t always have gas for heat, cooking, and hot water. We didn’t always have food. We didn’t always have toilet paper. We didn’t always have electricity. We didn’t get new clothes (well my brother did). We had roaches galore, not because we were dirty, but it’s a real problem when you live that close to neighbors. My mom was a clean freak.

We had mice. Mice so bad I would hear them in my ceiling of my room in the basement while I was sleeping. I would wake up to dead roaches and once a mouse in my water or beverage I had on my night stand. I have woke up with mice on my pillow next to me. The flea problem was terrible too. Oh my goodness the fleas and all the freaking animals we had.

I did not have a childhood like most people do. It was chaotic and stressful and so hard to get through. It was painful. It hurt. I was made fun of and picked on and hurt by the very people I trusted to keep me safe from all those things. The people that I wanted to love on me when someone at school was so mean to me, not tell me “wha wha wha everybody hates me, nobody likes me, going to the garden, going to eat some worms”…yep whenever I was hurting that was the response. My other favorite responses to my pain and suffering was, “here’s a quarter why don’t you call someone who cares?” You know what happens when your bullies are your parents too? You learn to shut your fucking mouth because what you feel or have to say means jack diddly squat and you just figure it out on your own. Because you were already shown that if you aren’t silent you might have cigarettes put out on your skin (my parents didn’t smoke another trusted adult or two did though) or be made fun of.

I’m parenting her though now. It is so hard to try and be 35 and an adult and also be a child in so many ways. I have tried so hard to teach her and correct her. I realize now that my love is kind of parenting her too. I mean lets be honest here if he wasn’t brave enough to deal with the consequences of telling me, “No”, or what he thinks it is I should be or not be doing (no one ever has) just so I am happy, healthy, and safe (literally my best interest at heart) then I wouldn’t be growing. You see no one has ever told me what I should do. What I should eat. What I should wear. I was just pretty much left to fend for myself, like way more than I could ever express with the word “a” and “lot”. I was abandoned and a show put on in front of people.

My inner child has needed a lot of molding and shaping. There is one area still that I am finding myself childlike and that is how I handle frustration. I have panic disorder and oh boy do I panic quick. I go 0-100 in no time some times. I have medicated with the guidance of my doctor and it does help. I now can go sometimes a whole week without an episode. Usually at least one day a week I panic about something. I am working on correcting this in me. This is still the one area I am growing. My love is amazingly patient and helpful. Even when I cannot see what it is he does for me or how much he loves me, because I think in those moments everyone hates me and is going to hurt me and leave me. He, even though hard on him, gets me through it.

You know I keep reminding him how sorry I am for all the bumps in the road and how hard I am to love. I am not sure I can ever apologize enough for being me. I am messed up and through no fault of my own. I literally taught myself everything I know. I watched people in the distance and decided what I liked and didn’t like. I knew that I needed to be less like my mom and more like the woman who opened her home to me so much. I needed to be like the women at church that I admired. No one showed me how to do any of it though. No one even showed me how to be a girl, but they did try to make me a man, which I am not. I am actually really gentle and kind and loving and warm, and I kind of like feeling like a princess (but I won’t let anyone treat me like a princess).

I am going to keep parenting this last hurdle I have with my inner child. She is going to learn that it is 100% okay for her to be loved the way she loves. She is going to learn that she is worthy and wanted and respected. She is going to learn that she can do it all just because of the man who stepped up to love her and to help her parent her inner child. It will never fall short on me just how big of a had my love has played in the growth in me. I didn’t need him to save me, but he did and he still is. For the first time in my life he isn’t the only one saving me though…I am saving me. i