lostintranslation
Member
It's hard to know what to say here, although knowing that there are others with the same or similar experiences here should make it easier..
Jumping in at the deep end is the only way, I guess.
I'm one of those typical 'survivors' of an abusive childhood. I feel guilty even writing that, because I know that my mum gets all defensive and offended when I bring it up. She was a victim, too.
We have the double -- sexual abuse on one side of the family, alcoholism and domestic violence on the other.
It's something that's never far from my mind, and as a result had pretty much plagued my life.
I have no life.
I work. That's pretty much it.
I don't know how to relate to people, especially men, outside the workplace.
I feel that I should be over all of this by now. It's been 30 years since he last lived with us. About 16 years since he died. I hadn't seen him since I was 16.
But the last time I thought I saw him (it turned out to be a look-alike), I had a panic attack. On a train. Which was fun. Not.
I suppose I'm rambling, but I don't know where I should be going from here. I did not do well with a psychologist on the many occasions I saw one. I'm on medication (Lovan) which stops me from freaking out, but does nothing about the underlying feeling of despair.
I'm wondering if there's any hope for my life to get any better.
I've missed the boat on so many things. I'm single and childless and over 40. I would love to have had a kid. But at the same time, I don't think I could trust anyone around said kid. Basically because of my own experiences.
And I resent my younger sister for having a child. And for being unaffected by the awful childhood we had.
As for "why now?" -- I caught up with my mother last week. She has a bad back, and told me that an X-ray had shown two fractures that hadn't healed properly.
"How do you have fractures?" I asked.
Stupid question.
Just when I feel like I can forget some of it, it comes back again.
Jumping in at the deep end is the only way, I guess.
I'm one of those typical 'survivors' of an abusive childhood. I feel guilty even writing that, because I know that my mum gets all defensive and offended when I bring it up. She was a victim, too.
We have the double -- sexual abuse on one side of the family, alcoholism and domestic violence on the other.
It's something that's never far from my mind, and as a result had pretty much plagued my life.
I have no life.
I work. That's pretty much it.
I don't know how to relate to people, especially men, outside the workplace.
I feel that I should be over all of this by now. It's been 30 years since he last lived with us. About 16 years since he died. I hadn't seen him since I was 16.
But the last time I thought I saw him (it turned out to be a look-alike), I had a panic attack. On a train. Which was fun. Not.
I suppose I'm rambling, but I don't know where I should be going from here. I did not do well with a psychologist on the many occasions I saw one. I'm on medication (Lovan) which stops me from freaking out, but does nothing about the underlying feeling of despair.
I'm wondering if there's any hope for my life to get any better.
I've missed the boat on so many things. I'm single and childless and over 40. I would love to have had a kid. But at the same time, I don't think I could trust anyone around said kid. Basically because of my own experiences.
And I resent my younger sister for having a child. And for being unaffected by the awful childhood we had.
As for "why now?" -- I caught up with my mother last week. She has a bad back, and told me that an X-ray had shown two fractures that hadn't healed properly.
"How do you have fractures?" I asked.
Stupid question.
Just when I feel like I can forget some of it, it comes back again.