View Single Post
 
Old Sep 03, 2015, 03:06 PM
ShaggyChic_1201's Avatar
ShaggyChic_1201 ShaggyChic_1201 is offline
Grand Member
 
Member Since: Mar 2011
Location: USA
Posts: 770
TW based on general theme of trauma



I’ve posted intermittently about the ongoing trauma work I’ve been doing. I took half a Xanax (and disclosed to T) and finally got up the courage to tell her the worst of it yesterday. Once I started, it all came out in a tumble of words and I was a bit annoyed when she broke in to do her therapy stuff .

She said, “It sounds like you adapted to [him] to survive. Given the horror of what you’ve endured over such a long time [18 months], I’m not surprised that you suffered from Stockholm syndrome.” I’m old enough to remember the incident, and Patty Hearst not only adapted to the bank robbers ways, she became one of them. But when she first said it, I wasn’t thinking – just talking. I told her I would probably panic and call her 500 times in my head. She smiled and said she knew, and I could call IRL too. Then she gave me the hug I asked for and said she was proud of me. After leaving the building, I freaked out a bit and found myself hiding behind a trash can 40 minutes after the session ended.

When I later checked Dr. Google, this is what it said, “Stockholm syndrome, or capture-bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with the captors.”

I NEVER had any positive feelings for the monster who nearly destroyed my life. The things he and his friends did were (until yesterday, I guess) unspeakable. But I guess by enduring it for so long, I did defend him. It’s my fault if others were also tortured. But for one time when the fire department came, I had never screamed or brought attention to myself and even then I said I was fine. If I had, maybe he’d have been locked up and unable to hurt others. Well, I did scream at the last incident. Like the telling of my story, once I started to scream, I kept doing it for a long time. She asked if I had ever thanked my rescuer and I was horrified. I said, “No! I was too humiliated.” I never even saw who it was – man, woman or alien.

Neither did I ever see the monster again. I have no idea what happened to him, though he lives in my head. I’ve never remembered his last name, and my attempts to find him in the alumni office have so far failed. She asked what I wanted to do or know … in a perfect world. I couldn’t think of anything to say. She said, “I hope he’s in prison or a graveyard.” I have no memory of talking to police, going to court or anything like that. What if he’s been serially attacking others for all this time? Damn Stockholm syndrome. Why did I have to keep quiet?!!

Has anyone else’s T helped them feel better about this? Please help me.

Last edited by ShaggyChic_1201; Sep 03, 2015 at 03:06 PM. Reason: added space
Hugs from:
growlycat, junkDNA, unaluna