FAQ/Help |
Calendar |
Search |
Chat Moderator
Member Since Feb 2016
Location: Doing donuts in the parking lot
Posts: 4,270
8 10k hugs
given |
#1
This is part of my c-PTSD the main focus of therapy at the moment. I've decided I want to talk about it, just not to someone irl right now. This is also probably very triggering, so only read it safely. I've tried to mark everything especially triggering. I really don't know of anyone in my life who can relate to a certain aspect of the nightmare my mind's wrapped up in. Maybe someone here? If not that, maybe someone will still have some kind of perspective that helps. [We have dissociative identity disorder and two personalities wrote this post. One is in italics while the other is regular print.]
The original traumas instilled are from [unknown]-6. Then there was a small break from the sexual abuse aspect. I don't know why I bother putting ages on anything since I really don't remember a time until I was out of my dad's house that I wasn't being abused in some way (emotionally, physically etc.). A slap-in-the-face reminder of how bad things had been is the ever presence of other personalities, hallucinations (and other forms of psychosis), intrusive memories and flashbacks. More often than not, I've had emotional flashbacks but my full-blown episodes have sent me into a tail spin before, right into the hospital, in fact. Another slap is the diagnosis of DID and the fact that I'm not the host, nor the host's gender or have their name. This isn't the right forum for that discussion, though, but I digress. So, in the very beginning things were loving and sweet. Things had been sort of reciprocated, as much as someone so small's experience/understanding could be capable of. I would stay up waiting for her to come to my bedroom and get me, hold her hand until we were in her room.
Possible trigger:
Possible trigger:
Gentleness didn't keep up, though. After an incident I was caught doing and got physically abused over, I no longer wanted anything to do with my privates.
Possible trigger:
It didn't take too long for her to make a move, maybe about a week. Leading up to it, she wasn't being close to me at all, she was actually cold and distant. When she did it, mom and dad weren't home and had run to the store or something, and initially I actually remember running from her. It was different than before, she wasn't leading me by the hand softly, she'd approached me so sadistically in the hallway I just felt I had to run. I made it into my husky/malamute and lab/chow's pen outside and into their dog house where my husky kept me in the back behind her. She didn't get me then. That night, though, it got more painful and more twisted. I fought her every time, I wasn't compliant and would try to stop it. That was my job. She found a way around that one real quick, though. For one, she knew there were multiple personalities (well she knew of a few, not all) and would specifically request them for different things she wanted to do. When she wanted to be more psychologically sadistic, it wasn't me who dealt with that. She never knew my name, never really knew when I was present until she'd get clocked in the face or something. I was the one who got the brutality aspect of it. I can take a certain threshold of pain, you know? Anyway, knowing I'd inevitably show up and fight, she'd drug the body first. Looking back, I can only assume the most common substance we were given was probably a prescription painkiller after having taking them as an adult. I do remember, to a degree, a different substance.
Possible trigger:
Possible trigger:
This is where I've been meaning to get to, actually, the part that really bothers me is the part where she legitimately used cult leaders methods (mostly Charles Manson) on me and probably her friends' younger siblings, too. I'd hear them talk about it over the phone or just together as they'd hurt me. It wasn't just chicks, it was guys too. There was a group of around 10 or 11 of them. They'd all follow the same rules, they'd all basically worship Manson along with implementing aspects of satin worshipping. Collectively, they were basically a small high school aged cult, now that I'm looking back. However, I was always my sister's,
Possible trigger:
As a teenager, when it happened, it would take place after I'd had a drink or a pill slipped into a drink. As much as I hated what was happening (why I was intentionally getting drunk beforehand), I couldn't say 'no' to her. I didn't know that was an option, she was still bigger since I was only 11 at the start of it, so I knew what fighting would lead to. She taught me well as a kid, I wasn't going to fight it.
Possible trigger:
Possible trigger:
A stop was put to it when I'd won the fight another time, and not just won but dominated it. I think we've vented about this enough for now, though. I don't know why we did it. If you read this book of a post, thank you. __________________ "Give him his freedom and he'll remember his humanity." Last edited by MtnTime2896; Jul 25, 2019 at 05:15 PM.. |
Reply With Quote |
MickeyCheeky, TunedOut
|
MickeyCheeky
|
Reply |
|