Happy New Year!!! Here’s to the start of a new blog!
My dog, Rosie, didn’t like the loud noise from the fireworks much – nor did the other dogs in the neighbourhood…I could have sworn I was at a dog pound, with all the barking!
I had a few (alcoholic) drinks tonight. I’m not a drinker usually, so I hope what I’m writing is legible! I mostly don’t drink because I am on so much medication and I find it just makes me sleepy most of the time.
I guess I should start by telling you a bit about myself…
I am 28 years old and I come from a very big and loving family – I think if any of them read this blog, they might encounter a few surprises! I have been diagnosed with Complex PTSD & Schizoaffective Disorder and in therapy with the same psychologist since I was 16. I can tell you it’s been a long and rugged road I’ve traveled thus far with her! I also see a psychiatrist, who I’ve been seeing since about 2005/6.
2012 was one of my most difficult, yet most enlightening years. I spent 7 months as an inpatient at a psychiatric hospital, which you may think would make this year a right-off, but it wasn’t! I learned SO much about where I came from and what brought me to this point. I learned that after every hurdle, there is soft grass to land on – my family and friends are that soft grass, as is the life I am building for myself. I learned that life is too precious and beautiful for me to feel negatively towards those who no longer exist in my present. I learned that “bad” events in life do not define who I am. I learned that a lot of my emotions are “misdirected” upon myself, instead of those who deserve it.
I’m going to share a little about my past below:
I was abused sexually from the age of about 5 to 9. Thankfully, it was not anyone in my family who perpetrated this abuse. I “repressed” the memories of the abuse until I was about 14. For a long time I couldn’t remember who my abusers were (I always knew there were two) and this really concerned me because I thought it may be someone in the family, but now – it’s crystal clear who they were and I really couldn’t give a toss about them.
Looking back, I showed some classic signs of a child who had been abused.
- I played inappropriate games with dolls…right up until I was 14.
- I was easily shamed.
- Was overly sensitive at times – especially with my older brother (whose ex-friends were the perpetrators).
- I dissociate/d a lot.
- People pleaser – especially with authority figures.
If only life could be a bed of roses though, right? But sometimes it’s a bed of thorns. Life can be hard, but I’m just beginning to see it can be worthwhile too…
There’s so much I want to say, but it’s 3:30am…time for bed.