I hate knowing. Knowing that (according to professionals) literally all of my psychiatric issues are caused by trauma. I never thought that anything I went through was worth dwelling over. I couldn't express how I felt in the environment I was raised in. I couldn't express it, so instead I compartmentalized everthing. I put stuff in boxes that I shoved in the basement and chained the door to it shut. I had to "toughen up" because apparently I was too "sensitive".
It's the cause behind my depression, my anxiety, my delusions, my hallucinations, my obsessions. EVERYTHING! How do I take that? How do I deal with the fact that people I love are the cause behind my breakdowns? How's this right? How's it right for anyone to go through this ****? What kind of deity would allow these things to happen to anyone? What kind of world do we live in where this is almost normal?