The Trauma That Built Me.
Trauma is a weird thing. When you're triggered by something and it sets your brain back to a place that was a difficult and unpleasant experience. A place where you didn't feel safe, ranging from all kinds of danger. I've been lucky enough that my trauma may have shaped me, but I've never been in a life threatening position that has thrown my brain into a panic.
Of course, that's me justifying my mental health, which I shouldn't do. I always harp on those in my life who try to soften their experiences as a way of saying 'well it could have been worse'. Of course it could have been, anything could have been worse. You could get your legs chopped off and you still would think it could have been worse. We need to stop holding onto the idea that our experiences aren't valid.
My trauma ends up being majorly triggered through relationships. I have a completely amazing ability to not ever hear when someone tells me they love me. I can write off appreciation quicker than a bullet. And when that core isn't constantly being validated I slide off the ducks back like water. I know a lot of the truth of it is that the people that made me spent more than half my life telling me that they love me, and now what does that mean. My existence is only useful when it's a visual representation in front of them. Out of sight, out of mind. The mother is strong.
I don't understand how someone can love me.... I can hear it but I am afraid that feeling will change, and is ALLOWED to change, because humans have free will. The fact that I lack control of the situation is what shakes me. The reason I thrive in a producer setting is because I have the ability to manipulate what's around me. The reason I'm unable to actually produce is because I fear the control as a way of losing myself in it. Sure, it's counterproductive. But so is my entire life.
I don't want to be me most of the time. I'm aware how much easier other people are to be around and talk to. I like my complexity, but I don't wish having to take care of me on anyone. I've been independent for so long that I fear how desperately I cling to the simple nice gesture of someone thinking about me without me making them.
Yes, that's right, I have found ways to make people think about me. Social media is a major culprit for that as well as a major contributor in my dopamine deficiency. I can make a post, skewed in a way that it's a cry for help, but then I don't receive what I'm looking for. It used to get really bad with my ex. There was a fb group chat that was a work chat. I knew he was in it. So I would post really cryptic things in hopes that he would reach out to me, in hopes that he would care. It didn't work, in case you were wondering. I lied. I cannot make people think of me.
I had a chat with a friend the other day who really spelled out a lot of my issues in a way that made sense. My bucket is empty, and it's full of holes. So even when I try to fill it, it won't fill up fast enough. I crave the inconsistency because I never know when something is coming. It's a big contender to my sadness as of late in regards to certain people in my life who are triggering it without meaning to. Being aware is keeping me slightly above the water, instead of the last week where I felt like I was drowning.
All of this to say that my trauma has shaped my brain and I'm in desperate need to be better. Though I crave the sensation of discovering that alone, I know that it won't help. I am so afraid of opening up all my truths to my partners, mostly for fear that they can't give me what I need. If the two people I love are unable to do that, will anyone?
I shouldn't say that. I have many people I love. But it's a different feeling for a partner than just a friend. I am very much able to separate that feeling. I can't exactly express what that is. A partner is someone I can talk to every day, that I want to fill in on all the stupid things that happened, that I can talk to to feel like I actually exist. A partner is someone I can lay beside while watching netflix and comfortably fall asleep, where they'll tuck me in and hold me. I don't know if I could achieve that level in a friendship. I love my best friend, but I can't imagine falling asleep in her arms, it's just different.
ANYWAY, as per usual, Hools has gone off topic. Where was I... yes... trauma.
I'm so tired of feeling invisible because I grew up in a household of four girls and the only time I got attention was when I did something good. When I did the dishes unasked, when I woke up half an hour before everyone to make breakfast, when I would come home to shove my report card in my mom's face to say 'LOOK MA, LOOK AT ME'. I don't want to have that trauma be triggered because I don't hear from someone, because someone doesn't like my photo that I posted, because someone didn't say good night. I want so badly to get over that. I don't want to impose on someone's life and make them change who they are to accommodate me.
So instead, I don't ask. I don't ask for what I need out of fear of being too much. Trauma number two: My mom would spend hours talking my ear off about how tired she was from my sister crying all night. I would see the pain my sister would put her through. Crying outside her door so she could sleep in the same bed. Screaming 'GO TO YOUR BED', while my older sister shouted 'SHUT UP'. I cannot imagine what that has done to my younger sister. But for me it made me believe that if I had a need, I would have to deal with it on my own. I shouldn't engage with anyone else to get it because that would just cause them too much pain. It has turned me into resenting myself whenever I DO ask for something I need. The moment after I took someone's time by spending half hour to talk to them I feel a surge of guilt. I shouldn't have said anything.
I just started therapy with a new therapist. My friend mentioned that therapy, paired with my medication, is the step towards healing. But I'm a millennial, so I want results now. Otherwise I fear I'll never get results, and in the end I'll lose everyone.