Wil

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About Wil

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  • Gender identity
    Female
  • Membership Type
    Survivor
  • Location
    UK
  1. I'm really sorry (((Zinhle))) it must have been a terrifying experience. My T says there that are no 'wrong' responses in these situations - we all made the choices we did because they seemed the best at the time. I find that quite helpful. For what it's worth I certainly don't think that you were to blame at all. And I totally agree, it's awful trying to deal with others' pressure on us to get back to 'normal' - personally I feel that I put enough pressure on myself without anyone else wading in! Yeah, I'm always saying 'baby steps' but every now and then I get furiously frustrated at how long everything takes! I think my 'I wish' entry maybe looks a bit bleak, but it was helpful to separate my regrets, rather having than an amorphous wish everything had been different. At the time I just really wanted someone to care, actively, but now I see that many of these aspects I can work on - I can be kind to myself, try and look to the future, relieve myself from blame, find myself again etc.
  2. I wish........

    I wish someone had asked WHY I was feeling/acting like that I wish someone had acknowledged what had happened to me, that they'd used THOSE words I wish I'd been told that it wasn't my fault I wish I'd been able to imagine that people might have responded kindly, or supportively I wish I'd reported it I wish I'd known that I wasn't the only person in the world that SH'ed I wish I'd been able to envisage a future where I existed I wish someone had said, 'You're better than that' I wish I'd felt that asking for help was okay, that it didn't man that I'd failed, or that they'd won I wish someone had understood that sometimes superficial things ARE part of the answer, that it was okay to want to feel pretty again, and that it was a possibility I wish, when people would say 'What's wrong with you?' that I'd been able to assess that unemotionally I wish I'd be kinder to myself I wish I'd felt that I was more than my past I wish I'd known that my trigger responses and sexual quirks weren't as freakish as they felt I wish my doctor examined me when I asked him to so that I wouldn't have had open wounds for years I wish I'd realised once I was ready to disclose, that healing was going to take much longer than I expected.
  3. Hi Susanna, Yes, it does - that's so much for responding I think you make some valid points there. I am going into panic mode and I definitely have some trust issues. Certainly my history tells me that I make a lot of poor choices - usually due to my habit of avoiding difficult situations. I guess I'm so used to c*cking things up that it feels inevitable. And on one hand, I like the new me, but I've changed so much over the last couple of years that it's just too hard to keep track of who I am. I guess I don't really know what I want. I think that some of it is linked to age as well - so much was going on, and so many changes were happening, and suddenly I'm 36. I'm not ready to be 36. I don't feel like I'm 36. I don't WANT to be 36. I'm also struggling with my rules. I'm only just starting to notice how rigid I've been about, well - a million things. It's a work in progress and I haven't quite got the hang of recognising when I'm doing it. I think that when so many other aspects of my life were a mush it probably made sense for everything else to have a clear 'right' and 'wrong'. Also, my whole family are a bit like that. The more I post and blog, the more I drag out of myself. It's good, but my list of to-dos is just getting longer and longer...
  4. BDD?

    Taken from the DE&BI forum, cos I think I need to hang on to the comparisons I think the reason I'm struggling with my weight right now is cos I don't SEE my weight properly, or consistently. My ED is not is strong as it used to be, it's just something that bounces up every now and then when I'm feeling tense and fretting about stuff, life, whatever. I hated being very underweight - - It was just a horrible reminder of how unhappy and stressed out I was. - It made me feel SO ugly, every second of the day. I hated ever having to look at myself. - I felt weak and tired and unfocused so much of the time. - It always felt like my low weight was as good as a beacon flashing to tell everyone that I wasn't coping. - I felt like people, esp men picked up on the fact that I was weak - I saw physical and mental weakness as being complete in sync. So skinny = victim (which all the self-blame that I associated with being a victim). - I didn't feel that I had an 'adult' figure. - I felt trapped in an abused kid's body. - Stores never sold clothes that fitted me. Also, I never saw any clothes that I liked - turns out that invisible suits are hard to come by. But - Even when I was inconsolable about how gaunt I was, I still looked too FAR TOO FAT to warrant putting any weight on. I know that this makes no sense, that I could have these two completely opposing thoughts, but I did. Now I am overweight. - I feel healthier. I AM healthier. - I feel like I have an adult's body now. - I am also sober, mentally stable, and dealing with my past - I am in a MUCH better place than I ever was before. - I can just go out and hose clothes that I like and they fit. They may not suit me, cos I'm bigger, but frankly, b*llocks to that, I wear what I like now. Physically, when I'm just walking about and getting on with life, I don't feel overweight. I just feel like I fit myself better. But - Sometimes I look at myself, or even just catch a glimpse of myself as I pass a window and I think 'Who the hell is that? I look like I've eaten an earlier version of myself.....' - I worry that I'll be too fat to have s*x. Well, not physically, I just worry that nobody will want to see what I have to show. - I worry that there will be bad repercussions for my health if I continue to put on weight. - I worry that I'll end up really big and won't even notice. I don't feel that this is helping. I do need to lose some weight, sensibly. Maybe not loads. And no more purging. I know that it will be difficult on my meds as we're working against each other. But every time I think of being a healthy weight - the weight I'd prefer to be, and fits my height more appropriately, I feel so stressed out - stress that's just leftover from my underweight days. I think I am equating fat with being happy, and normal/underweight as being something terrifying and depressing, and at this point, that's not a good thing.
  5. So sorry to hear that. I do hope that it turns out be something less serious. But if not, as IrishLeo says, it's better that these things are found earlier rather than later down the line. Sitting with you, if it helps (((undeniable_heart)))
  6. These are some big steps you are taking (((Susanna))) And yes, well done to Little Susanna, too.
  7. Oh, that's the same age that S1 was! I'm sure DD7 will find her way. It's hard to grow up, isn't it? But then it's also very hard for us as parents to watch our little ones growing. But I'm sure that with you as her mum she'll find a better way of being. Good luck!
  8. Thank you Yarn, that's so lovely of you. That really means a lot to me
  9. Hi GettingBetter, I'm sorry that you can relate, but relieved to hear that I'm not alone. I expect that there are plenty of people out there who get some kind of transient,specific stress-related tics, but I've never heard anyone mention it.... maybe I should ask....??
  10. Thank you Ravel - very much appreciated. to you, too
  11. Yarn, I'm going to be stern now. Take the meds, and take a break. You need this, and you deserve it. It's okay to just concentrate on you, in fact it's the most important thing you can do right now. Please, take VGC of yourself. (((Yarn)))
  12. (((Susanna))) Well done for being so honest with DH. I'm glad he responded well. that's a great outcome. Kids are often so different from us, aren't they? Sometimes I think my two are changlings! It makes it hard to know how to deal with issues like this when you're both looking in with different perspectives. How old is DD7? Have the school made any suggestions? Son1 did this too. It was hard - I used to dread the phrase "Can I have a word?" from his teachers. I'm not quite sure what happened in the end, but he stopped doing it once he started his new school. I think what made the difference was a) making some new friends and b) he started trying out new activities - once he felt more defined by his new hobbies, and free from being the 'aggressive' or 'naughty' boy that his friends (and teachers) recognised him as being, he was able to be who he really wanted to be. And with that, he became much less bothered about imposing his own views on others. I don't know if this helps at all. It's hard when we're scared. But it passes. And the very bravest of us gets scared - it's not related to how strong we are. You are strong. When I feel like this I try to tell Brain, "Thanks for trying to look after me, but I'm okay". Some, Brain takes notice of this. TVGC x
  13. I called it rape once, just after it had happened, and then not again for about fifteen years, not even in to myself. If I called it rape I would've had to have faced it, and I just couldn't. Even when I started talking to my T about it, I could only refer to it vaguely, "When IT happened", etc. I've been practicing typing it out instead of calling it R lately. I feel I need to be able to call it what it was. Having said that, my T has said "after the rape" and "when you were raped" (which I want to her to) and I've physically recoiled in horror and my heart's starting thumping like crazy. I think it would have been so much easier if I'd had someone to talk to about it when it happened, a friend? a T? someone, I don't know. I think I needed to hear it back, that it was rape. I'm only just getting my head around the other rapes, that I would have, until recently called 'bad experiences'. Ugh. Oh, well. Baby steps..... The abuse? I'm only just starting to think about that. The CSA? Um, well, that's still 'CSA' on here, and "the bad stuff that happened when I was a kid" if I'm talking about it. I think I have more trouble naming it cos it was so impossible to when I was little. It's much more difficult to deal with than the more recent stuff. *sigh* I'll get there....
  14. I've just had a conversation about this with my T. It was good to hear her say that there's no 'right' way, or 'right' balance to this. I knew as much, but I needed the confirmation. For me, it's gone in little steps, and very slowly (infuriatingly slowly, most of the time). And most of it has been more to do with me engaging with what happened, than about me telling somebody else. But I feel like I'm a good way down my healing path now. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with what was happening. But equally, I couldn't think of it, not the details, anyway. I so wanted to tell. I'd practice in my head for hours about what I could say, I'd gear myself up to say it...but I never managed it. I could never really imagine what would happen afterwards, though, even in an ideal world. I became a nervous wreck. I had the opportunity in my teens to talk to a child psychologist about it, but as he could barely be bothered to remind himself of my name, let alone my case details, I couldn't disclose anything to him at all. For ages, I couldn't think about it. Like literally, I'd try and think about it, and my mind would just shut off. I'd end up thinking round it, or more often than not, just switching off and zoning out completely. By the time I was in my late teens I had every PTSD symptoms going, I was a mess, too paranoid to go out, never speaking to anyone, terribly agoraphobic. And I was getting psychosis with my depressive periods. I'd get totally fixated on little flashes of it, over and over again for days. Ugh. It was hard to tell what was real then. I spent a lot of time drinking it away. I cried loads, deeply and often. I think people knew that stuff had happened to me, but I could never admit any of it. I acted like the suggestion was almost funny. I was like this all through my twenties and early 30s. When I was raped I tried to tell my mum. She didn't believe me. I didn't tell the police, I couldn't face it, and I assumed they wouldn't believe me either. I still regret this. I saw psychs and MH staff periodically and accidentally but never admitted anything. They mostly acted like if I couldn't tell, then I was weak and silly, and that I deserved every bad feeling that I had. Ah, the caring profession...... Once a nurse asked me directly if anything had happened (I was haven't some trouble letting her do my smear). I was too shocked at being asked to tell her the truth. She was quite cross with me. Other girls, she said, have REAL problems. I felt for years that I'm missed an important opportunity here. When I could think about it a little more, I started getting tics (saying No loudly, grunting, turning my head sharply) - the clearer the image, the stronger the tics were. I still get these, sometimes, but less so now. But it was important for me to get to this stage... ...cos the next one was actually being able to put everything (or at least, a lot of it) in the right order, in my head. I had some very bad MH episodes during this period, and for many months I felt completely obsessed and quite consumed by it. I really felt that that was all that was in me. A couple of years ago I felt ready to get some help. I spoke to my pdoc - no details at all, just said that the CSA and R had happened. Then I found PA! And read, and read, and read (I could hardly stop), and was totally overwhelmed by so many people trying to hard to work through their awful experiences. And I was more relived than I have words to express, to find that my feelings, my reactions, the things that had changed in me were not unusual at all. And I started posting, and received so much fantastic support. Honestly, this is what made the biggest difference to me. Then I found a T. I've been going for about eight months now. I believe I have been lucky this time. I was very apprehensive at first, and distrustful. But I feel a thousand times more relaxed there now. My T knows my quirks. She knows never to touch me. She talks to me very clearly. She explains why she says things. She accepts what I tell her and never makes me feel bad or guilty about it. She looks for ways to move forward instead of dwelling on the past. She pushes me to be kind to myself, and teaches me how when I don't understand how this can done. she never compares me with anyone else. I needed all of this, but I didn't know that when I started seeing her. First I talked about how I am now. And how I've coped so far. And then about the guilt. And then the anger. And sort of worked backwards, from the R to the CSA. And more recently, about other bad stuff that happened, that 'd not even thought of in that context before. If it's hard, I type it out and give it to her. Sometimes I give her posts I've made on PA. I think I'm finally able now to put the CSA away for now, which is a massive weight lifted from me, and inspires me to continue with T. I still have never told the gritty, revolting details, and I flit between thinking that I need to, that it's essential, and then thinking that it's unnecessary. If I ever choose to disclose, I will probably start by writing everything down and posting on here first, before sharing with my T. Actually, I think I'm starting to do this today.... I told a nurse, very recently. She was kind, and angry on my behalf. I had never thought that someone might react like that. If I did physical contact, I'd have hugged her. I have no intention of telling anyone I know in RL. It's too late to tell my family now, and I think that just very recently, I've come to terms with this. I would never share it with anyone else. I can't think of a single reason why I would ever want to. Source: Telling your story vs. learning to cope
  15. I've just had a conversation about this with my T. It was good to hear her say that there's no 'right' way, or 'right' balance to this. I knew as much, but I needed the confirmation. For me, it's gone in little steps, and very slowly (infuriatingly slowly, most of the time). And most of it has been more to do with me engaging with what happened, than about me telling somebody else. But I feel like I'm a good way down my healing path now. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with what was happening. But equally, I couldn't think of it, not the details, anyway. I so wanted to tell. I'd practice in my head for hours about what I could say, I'd gear myself up to say it...but I never managed it. I could never really imagine what would happen afterwards, though, even in an ideal world. I became a nervous wreck. I had the opportunity in my teens to talk to a child psychologist about it, but as he could barely be bothered to remind himself of my name, let alone my case details, I couldn't disclose anything to him at all. For ages, I couldn't think about it. Like literally, I'd try and think about it, and my mind would just shut off. I'd end up thinking round it, or more often than not, just switching off and zoning out completely. By the time I was in my late teens I had every PTSD symptoms going, I was a mess, too paranoid to go out, never speaking to anyone, terribly agoraphobic. And I was getting psychosis with my depressive periods. I'd get totally fixated on little flashes of it, over and over again for days. Ugh. It was hard to tell what was real then. I spent a lot of time drinking it away. I cried loads, deeply and often. I think people knew that stuff had happened to me, but I could never admit any of it. I acted like the suggestion was almost funny. I was like this all through my twenties and early 30s. When I was raped I tried to tell my mum. She didn't believe me. I didn't tell the police, I couldn't face it, and I assumed they wouldn't believe me either. I still regret this. I saw psychs and MH staff periodically and accidentally but never admitted anything. They mostly acted like if I couldn't tell, then I was weak and silly, and that I deserved every bad feeling that I had. Ah, the caring profession...... Once a nurse asked me directly if anything had happened (I was haven't some trouble letting her do my smear). I was too shocked at being asked to tell her the truth. She was quite cross with me. Other girls, she said, have REAL problems. I felt for years that I'm missed an important opportunity here. When I could think about it a little more, I started getting tics (saying No loudly, grunting, turning my head sharply) - the clearer the image, the stronger the tics were. I still get these, sometimes, but less so now. But it was important for me to get to this stage... ...cos the next one was actually being able to put everything (or at least, a lot of it) in the right order, in my head. I had some very bad MH episodes during this period, and for many months I felt completely obsessed and quite consumed by it. I really felt that that was all that was in me. A couple of years ago I felt ready to get some help. I spoke to my pdoc - no details at all, just said that the CSA and R had happened. Then I found PA! And read, and read, and read (I could hardly stop), and was totally overwhelmed by so many people trying to hard to work through their awful experiences. And I was more relived than I have words to express, to find that my feelings, my reactions, the things that had changed in me were not unusual at all. And I started posting, and received so much fantastic support. Honestly, this is what made the biggest difference to me. Then I found a T. I've been going for about eight months now. I believe I have been lucky this time. I was very apprehensive at first, and distrustful. But I feel a thousand times more relaxed there now. My T knows my quirks. She knows never to touch me. She talks to me very clearly. She explains why she says things. She accepts what I tell her and never makes me feel bad or guilty about it. She looks for ways to move forward instead of dwelling on the past. She pushes me to be kind to myself, and teaches me how when I don't understand how this can done. she never compares me with anyone else. I needed all of this, but I didn't know that when I started seeing her. First I talked about how I am now. And how I've coped so far. And then about the guilt. And then the anger. And sort of worked backwards, from the R to the CSA. And more recently, about other bad stuff that happened, that 'd not even thought of in that context before. If it's hard, I type it out and give it to her. Sometimes I give her posts I've made on PA. I think I'm finally able now to put the CSA away for now, which is a massive weight lifted from me, and inspires me to continue with T. I still have never told the gritty, revolting details, and I flit between thinking that I need to, that it's essential, and then thinking that it's unnecessary. If I ever choose to disclose, I will probably start by writing everything down and posting on here first, before sharing with my T. Actually, I think I'm starting to do this today.... I told a nurse, very recently. She was kind, and angry on my behalf. I had never thought that someone might react like that. If I did physical contact, I'd have hugged her. I have no intention of telling anyone I know in RL. It's too late to tell my family now, and I think that just very recently, I've come to terms with this. I would never share it with anyone else. I can't think of a single reason why I would ever want to.