I think one of the things that makes me so mad about PTSD is the memory issues. I cannot remember many periods of my life. Many years. I have blips of memories. I remember being in 1st grade. Studying the weather. I remember playing with certain friends during certain periods of time. I remember certain things with friends. Phone calls I’d make every day to Denise after school. I even remember where I was when I found out (as the world did) that Magic Johnson has HIV.

I remember the traumas pretty well. That’s stuck in there.

I spoke with my friend yesterday for hours. We haven’t had a drawn out conversation like this in years. I’ve had to apologize to certain people in my life -including this friend. Trauma had impacted me so heavily. The fact that survival is so paramount in my life – I’m living purely based off survival. Or at least have been for years. Certain traumas overlapped others. Almost as though it was one constant. I am in almost constant anxiety. By the time I panic at the first hearing of my alarm clock on a  work day, I’m on edge. To the moment I can close my eyes and do it all over again.

My apology was this: I haven’t been able to listen to your life. Not as well as I should. It’s not to be offensive or consciously realized what I was doing by continuously yammering on about my life and stresses. I don’t have room. And since I feel like I’ve internally gaslit myself for years, the interpretations I’ve made about my social world (confirmed by unquestionable silence by people that were supposed to be family. A few exceptions), and my absolute inability to value myself in any regard .. I have been holding in YEARS of feeling neglected. I haven’t been validated or even felt heard. So the things I talk about may not match other people’s experience. That’s okay. Your experience isn’t negated by mine. Nor should it. However, multiple situations can coexist at the same time. The evidence does not always show through each person’s personal experience if that’s all they can see.

Up until recently, I didn’t question any of my own possible misgivings. I had a different black and white thinking. While I did and do consider myself open minded in many ways, when it came to my trauma? That was different. Completely different.

Or is it?

I can surmise based off data sets I’ve observed. I can make speculations about why people treated me (or didn’t) over my teenage years. Do I know for certain that the reasons for people disappearing from my life was specifically curated directly because I wasn’t good enough? Worthy? Loved, even? In my podcast episode, I even made space to accept that the trauma didn’t just belong to me. Many people suffered because of the circumstances I went through. My sister had two other siblings. My mom and dad lost a daughter. My uncle’s and aunts, nephews and nieces. Grandparents… Everyone that knew us, loved us, supported us, had frailties of human kind. Duh!

What I struggle with is who I am. How to become the best version of myself. How to accept myself as worthy, loveable, desirable, smart,  interesting, and many other things.

I’ve said before that I want to be more than the sum of my parts. I want to be someone that helps other people. That can look at the overall and say… I’ve been able to make sense of the chaos in my brain and enjoyed the rest of my life. Meanwhile, the financial burden is specifically on me. Not that my husband is lazy. He has diagnosed medical issues that complicate his life to extraordinary lengths. I don’t fault him for that. It just makes my survival mode more intense. If not me, then who?

One of my siblings once said: you clean like Mom.

Okay…. What does that mean? I remember certain things about my mom. She liked to talk. She was friendly. She loved hard. She was intelligent. She was also lonely and depressed. I remember her belly laugh, watching John Candy water ski on the movie “The Great Outdoors”.  I didn’t like Oprah because I felt like the time my mom spent watching her show, I didn’t exist. I remember the way my mom tied her shoes. And that she was a size 8 women’s shoe to my size 10! I remember going to the laundry mat with my mom, as a kid. Since we had a washing machine and dryer at home, the laundry mat was special for me. I was excited to be somewhere different while our machine was down at home.

I similarly have very vague recollection of Dianne. I remember looking up to her. She loved the B52’s, smoked Marlboro Lights (if I remember correctly), I remember her smile. I remember her eating big bowls of cereal. I remember her books and her knowledge… I envied. She was her own person. She wore one long earring in one ear and a stud in the other ear. She wore a beret (French style hat). I remember she liked Tab. And before she died, she was overweight. She also was a fierce proponent for pants. She didn’t like dresses.

I had a small brain in contrast to the people in my life. PTSD, it is said, is not a mental illness. It’s a brain injury.  The science and biology of PTSD – PTSD UK https://share.google/WV90uEGe9jQ9dRhb5

Please click on the link. While I’m not a doctor, clinician, or a medical professional in any way … Look at the difference between the healthy brain activity (light up) vs the PTSD brain (light up) the differences are profound.

Even my husband. Last night we discussed things. My ability to recall is hard. Memory is bad. Not just because I’m 49. My husband and I spoke candidly about how my mental health presents. First off, I said: you can tell I have PTSD because my story doesn’t change about significant events in my life. Eric responded by saying, that’s not all.

1. He can tell my anxiety levels and how I behave. Stress levels. I’ll even hold my breath (which I was unaware I was doing this consciously) when I hit an anxiety peak.
2. My reactions to perceived traumatic reminders. Very intense.
3. My isolation / avoidant tendencies
4. My fundamental lack of trust, perfectionism, overreaction to perceived failure, giving up, and being triggered.

During this conversation, I also reminded him about how he previously told me that I have given him PTSD after years of watching me going through my things, my reactions, etc. I think my memory lapses caused me to not even regard that as possible. When Eric originally told me that, I thought to myself… I’m not that bad of a wife. I clean, I care for him, I provide. And then I realize… Not long ago, Eric text me while I was at work asking me to grab his script after work. Without Eric knowing it was a bad day, I messaged him back . very agitated. Get your driver’s license. I’m stressed and it’s getting harder for me to do this. Eric didn’t see this coming. Nor did he deserve it. My interpersonal chaos caused me to come unglued on my poor unsuspecting husband. And that’s just one incident. Not to mention my past infidelity (over 20 years ago), bad habits, etc. He’s been patient. He’s been kind. And I’ve doubted him, every step of the way almost….for a  long time. Now it’s not his fault. Again, past experiences haven’t shown me being worthy of love. Regardless why people disappeared from my life, I felt a personal rejection. And few people have been able to make that time to correct me. And for those that might have tried in the past, one of two things happened. First option: I am not willing to hear their point of view. I am altogether through with that relationship. It serves me not at all. Second: I am struggling with opening myself up to yet another rejection. I’m operating on fear. And honestly, I do not like that about me.

As time goes on in the ‘healing’ process, memories somewhat resurface. Ones that didn’t exactly before. It’s not a huge download, it’s a few things here and there. The memories can be great. The memories can also be painful.

I can tell you … In my teenage years, I had no one trying or attempting to be a cheerleader on my behalf. Just critics. There are always exceptions, but it felt more of a hostile environment. Ask anyone hostile environments do not breed contentment and self satisfaction. I’m just learning that now.