Traumatic Memories

[Limeoutsider]

She doesn't thing she's done anything wrong and if I mentioned any of these incidents she'd tell me I was overreacting or that I was a liar.

I don't really talk to her too much.

Are we realted?

 

[chicago]

Are we realted?

Perchance.

 

[Knox The Hatter]

I really don't even care much anymore, I try to stay as far away from her as I can and as soon as I'm on my own, financially, etc. I'm going to tell her everything she's done to me and then tell her "Peace out"

May this day come soon.

 

[chicago]

A few more years.

 

[Knox The Hatter]

Hon, I have a good friend who once told me, "be bold; and mighty forces will come to your aid." At the time, I just thought it was just another example of his own particular Babbitry, sayings that ultimately mean nothing...

But later on, it all began to make sense. You can make things happen. You have the power. Took me over three decades to figure this out...

Good luck. I'm totally in your corner.

 

[chicago]

Oh, I know, totally.

There's no way I'd be able to graduate high school, with honors, and a scholarship.

There's no way I'd be able to go to college and make something of myself.

There's no way I'd be able to be a role model for my little sisters,

If I didn't know that in the end, it's really only me that matters.

I know that most of these things are normal and happen to everyone at some point in their life, but with a mother like mine, even the most insignificant tasks seem impossible.

I've been staring at the future of what and where I want to be. What I want to have, all since about 8th grade. I've had enough bad examples to figure out what not to do.

Basically, I'm just looking out for myself and my little sisters at this point.

 

[leafstk]

We've all had our share of trauma in our lives, to some degree. Mine was work place related, during the SARS scare of 2003. Not many knew or understood about the disease at the time, but it still had to be battled... and it was lethal. Scary as it was, I was one of many that volunteered to battle the disease, in whatever capacity I could, to help the victims through their time. Layers of gowns, masks, gloves, scrubs... whatever, it still sends a chill through my spine. I've struggled in the aftermath of what I experienced then for some time. But what tests you only makes you stronger, I believe. 🙂

 

[Hiryu]

But what tests you only makes you stronger, I believe. 🙂

Amen to that! I see there's a lot more pain being expressed here then I expected. I hate that you all have had to deal with these awful things in your lives but, at the same time it makes some of my own traumas not seem so bad. I don't mean that to sound selfish and if it does, I apologize.

Here's one of my more interesting traumas or maybe it is the result of a trauma that I blocked out. Since age 3 or 4, I have had nightmares almost constantly. You may have read in an earlier thread that I used to have a recurring dream about a doll that's head was being pulled off slowly while the neck stretched out, growing thinner and thinner until it separated. That is my earliest dream regarding decapitation. Later on there were other dreams of a woman's severed head floating around in my bedroom. It was alive and my worst fear was that it would bite me. Also my mother had one of those styrofoam wig heads that she placed on a shelf in her bedroom closet. Needless to say I was afraid of it yet drawn to it as well like the ghost or monster that you dread but, feel compelled to look apon anyway. Sometimes I would go to her room and just stare at it, both frightened and fascinated at the same time. A year later when I started school, I had a Kindergarden teacher whom I adored. I began having strange dreams about her. Dreams that a 6 year old child should'nt have period. In the dream she was nude, reclining on a large, black fishnet suspended in a sky-blue void. I was with her as were other children my age. A frightening sound would begin to pulse -like the sound you hear when your ears feel with water or when you're under water- and finally her severed head would come flying by in a swooping motion. Then I would wake up. Not too long after this, I developed a bizarre and morbid fascination for severed heads. I drew them with blood dripping from the necks. This went on until I was around age 10. Even after I stopped drawing the heads, I continued to have similar dreams sometimes but, not often. I also began looking for that sort of thing in ghost stories and horror movies. As I got older the strange fascination decreased as did the dreams. A few years ago, I dreamed that I had somehow been transported to the old trailer park that I lived at between the ages of 9 and 12. At the end of the dream, I looked down and at my feet were the heads of 3 teenage girls. They were screaming. A few months ago I had one that I considered worse than that one but, I can't remember it.

My theories are that since I was a small child during the '70s and because '70's horror was so weird, I must have seen something about severed heads in a horror movie that traumatized me or I may possibly -I hope not- have seen someone literally decapitated when I was very young and blocked it out of my memory as an attempt to preserve my sanity. I don't know but, even to this day I like to read ghost stories revolving around headless haunts and such because it scares the hell out of me and I like the adrenaline rush from that kind of fear.

Pretty freaky post, I know but, I just had to tell someone.

 

[isabeau]

i think that the point is everyone here who has posted a traumatic memory is strong enough to have overcome it or working on overcoming it. and that is half the battle. so kudos to all of you for surviving and keep the faith. if i listed every single trauma that has occured in my life, this thread would probably cover two pages. and not to be vain, which i am not, the fact that i am here today, sane and in one piece, is something i can be very proud of.

isabeau

 

[Redmage]

My mother and father divorced when I was 2 years old, so the only father I really had growing up was my stepfather (she remarried almost immediately). Likewise, my stepfather's parents were my paternal grandparents, for all intents and purposes.

My mother, unfortunately, is not a terribly nice person. When I was 7 years old she had a fight with her in-laws - I remember the fight but I don't know what it was about. Whatever it was, because she was angry with them, she told me that my grandparents didn't love me, because I wasn't really their grandson.

I didn't speak to my grandparents again for 30 years. By that time my grandfather was dead, and I wasn't much more than a name on a Christmas list to my grandmother.