Trauma survivor checking in.
I am going to try to put this as eloquently and gently as possible, but it won’t be easy because you might not want to hear it. I say this as a person who knows that black pit of despair, the feeling of helplessness and the flashbacks and seemingly endless misery and isolation that is complex-PTSD, a person who could once barely bathe herself much less go to work or school. I believed so little in my ability to succeed, and had convinced myself and my loved ones that I was so helpless, that I almost signed away all autonomy over my medical decisions to the person who screwed me up in the first place! I say this as a healthy person looking back on that miserable person I was not more than two years ago, as a fully functional and ridiculously happy human being living a full and vibrant lift beyond my wildest imaginings.
What was done to you cannot be undone. There is nothing that will ever erase your personal experiences of abuse. It wasn’t your fault, it was wrong, and in many ways it’s going to inform your perception of reality for a long time to come.
Having said that–you aren’t a little kid anymore. You are an adult, and you’re completely in control of your life and the choices you make right now. Choosing to live is a big step you have made toward recognizing that. But judging by your OP you have a lot of work to do. No other person is responsible for your behavior, but your thread here indicates that you would hold your therapist responsible for your suicide. To be frank, you sound like you feel you are entitled to special treatment because of your life experiences. The OP comes off as if it were written by a child or teenager pushing the responsibility off on everyone but herself.
I can relate to that–I felt the same way. I didn’t understand why I was expected to carry on living as if nothing had happened. Every normal social interaction–punching into work, cashing a check, etc–seemed like a slap in the face. I was, as I think you are, in a very emotionally immature place. Again, I don’t think that is a strike against you–how the hell are you supposed to know how to instinctively take responsibility for yourself? I certainly was never taught. All those self-care skills that most young adults learn when they are parented were never bestowed upon me, and in my late teens I was too busy supporting myself and trying to scrape by to learn. Maturity wasn’t exactly a priority because I was in constant crisis mode.
But sooner or later I began to understand all the little ways I was sabotaging myself. I was pretty much smack dab in the middle of paradise and spending so much time looking back on the horrors of the past that I couldn’t see the beauty surrounding me. One day I just woke up and realized that I had all the potential and opportunity in the world and I was squandering it out of self-pity.
Well, I don’t pity myself anymore. In fact, I’m pretty glad my childhood sucked. It has made me a much more compassionate and competent person. I remain calm over a lot of things that make most people freak the fuck out, and the reason is because of my experiences, not in spite of them. I don’t get caught up in petty drama because I always know in the back of my mind how much worse it could be. I decided that I’m not going to ever have another problem that is within my control to remedy. I am never going to die of a disease I could have prevented, I am never going to choose misery over peace–and if, in a moment of weakness, I do make that choice, I’m going to own up and acknowledge it was a choice.
I still cope with depression and anxiety as well as PTSD. The difference is that I am fundamentally happy and grateful now, even in the midst of the symptoms. I can experience depression and peace and happiness at the same time. I don’t panic every time the nasty thoughts kick in, I just stop thinking them and relax and accept that I’m going through a hard time and that it will eventually be over. I have an internal locus of control now. No matter how bad things get–no matter what happens in my life–I will never let anything take away my happiness ever again. I will not squander any more of my life on self-pity.
I wish to god someone had come to me when I was 20 years old, smacked me across the face and screamed, ‘‘Grow up!’’ If they had, I admit I may not have listened. I may have used it as fuel for the fire of bitterness burning in my heart, used it as yet another example of people treating me like shit. But that’s on ME, not them. I had a lot of growing up to do. In some ways I still do, but at least I can admit it now.
Believe it or not, it’s possible to acknowledge your responsibility for unhealthy behavior without tearing yourself to shreds and spiraling into self-hate. Chances are, if a therapist is actually telling you there are boundary issues and it’s time to move on, you’ve got some difficult and unhealthy behaviors going. While it’s definitely time for a new therapist, I think it may also be time for some serious self-examination.
My very good therapist once told me, when I was thinking about giving Power of Attorney to my mother, ‘‘Listen to me. You are not mentally ill. You do not need others making your decisions for you. You are a smart, strong, capable young woman who went to hell and back, and you’re reacting to the horrible circumstances of your past in the way any other human being would. Do you understand? Your SITUATION was crazy, not you.’’
When I left her due to uncontrollable circumstances, she gave me a silver angel ornament with Eleanor Roosevelt’s immortal words engraved: You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
The full quote is this:
[QUOTE=Awesome Quote]
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
[/QUOTE]
There is so much truth here. Since walking out of her office I have learned to do a million things I thought I couldn’t. I took her ornament with me on my flight to Mexico, where I lived and volunteered on a small farm out in the middle of nowhere. Fear had kept me from achieving this dream for years. I wept with joy the whole way there. I was terrified, but I was there.
I’ve taken risks I never dreamed I would, faced terrors I never thought I could face, and as a result am living the life I never dreamed I could. I am so happy I want to pinch myself every time I wake up–and by objective standards I live a very ordinary life. It’s just that everything seems like a miracle because I took so much of it for granted before. I have never known happiness like this before. I never believed it would have been possible.
Two very strong recommendations that helped me tremendously:
- Cognitive Behavioral Therapy
- Buddhism
Sitting in an office talking about how much I hated my childhood and my life accomplished absolutely nothing for me but perpetuate my misery. Examining my thoughts in the present moment and learning to change them as well as my behaviors did everything for me. I strongly recommend the book Overcoming Depression One Step at a Time. I think opening this book really was the start of happiness for me, if I had to pinpoint the moment.
Now, go make a positive choice for yourself. Do something self-loving. Commit to doing that self-loving thing every time you feel those hateful thoughts. Sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire. Find a therapist who will simultaneously inspire you and kick your ass. Good luck.
