Lived Experience Forum

[saltandpepper]

Keep me posted @MDT I'd be interested to know how it all goes for you

[saltandpepper]

@Appleblossom Ha I'm sure he appreciated the bad jokes, probably the highlight of his day I reckon

[saltandpepper]

@MDT Just reading about the authoring thing. Can I ask--but don't answer if you're not comfortable--is the stuff you're working on trauma related? I'm wondering how safe it would be for me to dive into. Is there any guidance or is it just getting writing prompts? Is it like: lets take a look at this ugly truth aaaaand you have fun dealing with that now. I guess I'm just wondering how distressing it gets?

[MDT]

Its as honest and open as you want it to be. My take on it is that its self directed and gives you a chance to engage with whatever you wish.

For me there is only a small trauma amount - largely around child hood bullying and also letting influential figures control what I thought and did on a daily basis (religious figures).

I have found it beneficial so far but I understand if others may find it too confronting.

I guess the answer to your question is that it gets as distressing as you want it to if that makes sense.

[saltandpepper]

Yeah makes sense @MDT I would also never diminish what someone has been through. Bullying is incredibly damaging, especially at such a young age. Fu*king hate bullies. I guess lucky for me I was such an angry pri*k of a kid that people just steered clear of me haha.

I'm sorry you were bullied @MDT you're such a thoughtful fella, certainly didn't deserve it. And yeah the religious sh*t, I went to a private school early on for a few years. I don't remember alot of it, but ugh, lots of messy shit goes on there. Hasn't changed. Probably just gotten worse really

[saltandpepper]

Well, this is horrifying.

I was 16 when things with my Dad fell apart. At the time, I was living with him and had been for the past year. One night, it all went to Hell and I ended up leaving. My mother had originally booted me out and sent me to live with my Dad. So, when shit hit the fan, I didn't really have anywhere to go. It was cold, freezing actually, and well into the night. I went and sat at the primary school down the road and thought about sleeping there for the night. After maybe half an hour of freezing my ass off, I caved and called on my mother for help.

That night, she took me back in. At that time she was living in a one bedroom house that had been converted from a barn. It was a split level kind of deal with living areas down the bottom and a bedroom upstairs. So, split level is there's no distinction between the lower and upper levels because the flooring upstairs doesn't run the entire way across to divide the levels.

I went to her place and stayed on the couch. Later in the night, the guy she was seeing comes around. He goes "upstairs" and I can hear them having sex. Clear as anything. Sure, technically upstairs, except imagine you're on the ground floor and above you is a giant ass hole in the roof and oh, there's your mum having sex. They didn't even try to be quiet. That's kinda sick right? Feels like I was in the same fu*king room as them. Makes me feel sick to think about. And it happened again, and again, and again.

Just lovely that this memory has chosen to resurface, just truly fu*king wonderful. Having sex in the same room as your teenage kid? Come on. No wonder it's all so fu*ked up for me now.

[saltandpepper]

Ugh. I've opened up the flood gates to something here. So much shit coming back to me this morning. Feeling sick.

[saltandpepper]

This keeps coming back to me, so I'm going to share it here, maybe I just need to let it out so it can settle.

I don't know how old I was, younger than 10, maybe around 7/8 I'm guessing. Our house had been built right next to a landslide. The Earth was supported by a blockade of giant logs of timber that stretched from one end of our property to the other. And yes, the slope of land gradually moved year after year.

I wonder if it ever caved in?

Anyway, I remember going outside one time and just hammering my fists at those logs. Over and over again. I didn't stop until my wrists had swollen and the sides of my hands had grazes over them. It hurt of course, but I didn't cry, I wasn't sad--or even mad. When I could see the damage I'd done, I felt happy.

I went back into the house, looking for my mother. I showed her I'd hurt myself--told her I'd fallen over while doing laps around the house. I remember she wrapped my wrists and sat with me on the couch. She held me, comforting me, and I swear it was one of the happiest moments of my childhood. I felt loved, cared for. I still remember how it felt being so small and resting against her. I still feel it when I think back.

I've had this memory sitting with me for a long time. Used to think on it and feel embarrassed, ashamed, crazy. Wondering why the Hell I would do something like that for. I look at it now, and I see it for what it is. I was desperate to connect with my mother, to be nurtured and loved. To feel safe and secure. It's bitter sweet because I remember how it felt when she took care of me and comforted me, but I also remember what it took to get that from her.

It's confusing and sets off this internal conflict. A loving caring mother wouldn't do the things she later did to me--or my brother--But if I had to hurt myself just to feel like she loved me, was she ever really loving or caring? I don't know. I don't know.

I'm not sure if I should share this. Not sure I'm ready to open myself up to this just yet. But I guess I just want to acknowledge that lonely kid. Just acknowledge it. And I see it for what it is now. Not crazy, disturbed, violent, just wanting to be loved. I just wanted to feel loved.

[BlueBay]

I'm so sorry for everything you went through as a child @saltandpepper  

it is nice when we have a nice memory and it brings up a nice feeling 

I understand what you're saying 

hugs my friend xxx

to be honest with you I csnt remember my mum ever giving me a hug or holding me. Ever. Not even my dad. 

I've been having lots of memories come up from my childhood abuse lately. 
do you ever not remember?? I wish. 
the memories the visions I wish I could not let it affect me. But it does. 

[saltandpepper]

Thanks for the kindness @BlueBay and I'm sorry you were deprived of love and hugs as a kid. Can only imagine how that's gone on to impact you. I'm not a hugger, but I'm sending you one because you damn well deserve them..

I wrote out a response before but deleted it. Think there's just too much conflict going on in my head to make much sense. Not sure what I'm saying and my mind is just jumping from one thing to another. Anyway..

Thanks for dropping in @BlueBay means a lot