[junkDNA]

***TRIGGER WARNING, SEXUAL PHYSICAL PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE in text form***











i need a hug


i am seeing T who is 34 male.. i have a former T who i can only talk to mental health providers to about but let's just say that it was bad... he was twice my age and we got into ****************************************\

anyway, current T is ignoring me and everyone is distraught, everyone inside of me, SJ, here, writing this....not really thinking just typing here, waiting for something , I DONT KNOW.... ANYTHING... SOME KIND OF CLINICAL SUPPORT...

OK THAT WAS A LOT




I was 10 years old when I "woke up" from the dissociated hazed fog i lived in ... April 30th, 1997 to be exact... almost 11 am I suspect... before lunch period I know because I was in the 4th grade at the time... in a physical science class... where we learned about barometers and rain gauges... it wasn't rainy that day, no, it was sunny and I remember it very clearly... want to follow me back?? come along.... hop in...i don't have time to explain the reason for this "trip"....

the first memory I have of that wednesday morning was leaving to go to school. I knew my father had been very, very ill... in a hospital bed in my parent's bedroom... on the way of sights towards the front door on my way out to school that morning....his bed placed in the door way.. i had to jump down the ramp on the porch for his wheelchair, those saturday mornings i watched, sneakily, as my mom wheeled him out to the grassy lawn to watch the sun.. RISE... hiding in the curtains... alone in my room... YOU SEE... my father was sick for a long time, very ill, you'll see, and it made me ill in turn. sometimes, like right now, I hold true to the thought that I killed my father on that day... that day they pulled me out of science class, that tap on the shoulder as i leaned back in my chair, afraid!!! I might get in trouble for it being on 2 legs... but no...come outside, hushed voice and downcast eyes.... follow me down that hall... into that room with the preacher and my sisters confusion,... past the teary filled stares of my mother in the lobby....alone...again.. follow me there

[Anne2.0]

I am here reading and willing to listen to more; it seems like your post was unfinished. I am sad that you had to go through these experiences and I have hugs for you if you want them:

:hug :hug :hug

[junkDNA]

I'm alone now im my room at home... ive already been my parent's room and saw the tangled up sheets in the hospital bed, a place where my father lied for almost 5 months... that day he got the call.. new years Day... 1997, you have malignant melanoma skin cancer, 6 months to live, etc.... HOSPICE... PARALYSIS,....HALLUCINATIONS.. but no it goes way back before this illness... before you got sick Daddy, when you would beat us with your belt, drunk on whiskey, WILD TURKEY, feeding it to us, forcing us to drink it as a shot before bed, flashbacks to scary nights with my eyes closed hugging stuffed animals, thunderstorms and mom's not home because she works 3rd shift... she doesn't know about the wild turkey nights, not until 20 years later... 25 now, this occured before i was 10, in my dissociate fog, of youth, of innocence, my life, and my purity taken from me by a caregiver...

and then you ask why you think i killed this man? with my HATE and RAGE i did.... emotions so strong they took his ability to walk and form complete sentences, vibes so strong they emanated from me into him, making it hard to look at him or even be around him in any capacity...

follow me to age 9 when my mom's father, my grandfather Ted, killed himself in the washer room behind great grandma's house... follow me to the silence our family dealt with as we all stared at the pink elephant in the living room with duct tape on our mouths, uncapable of speaking to one another about simply important subjects of life, love, death, and worth....never taught any of that. ... never had a parent, practically orphaned at birth, left to be taken care of by my father until he died, then MANY caregivers, babysitters, friends friends, etc, taking care of me and my sister, can't remember them all, flash backs flash backs flash backs....follow me past those 5 years of silence and torture, loneliness while being alone, injuring myself on purpose just to have a reason to cry... follow me past that to age 15...when i got mono and was sick myself for 3 months, the hate and rage already killed my father and it turned inward, slowly killing me... follow me to age 15...

[junkDNA]

i'm almost 16 years old and i get sick... a cough, my lymph nodes are swollen, they hurt and i vomit a lot. cannot eat because i vomit. cannot shower because i am so fatigued i can barely move. All i do is listen to my portable CD player, on repeat, the album THE BENDS by the band RADIOHEAD, most depressing album ever, in my opinion. Three months (3) lying in bed, listening to Thom Yorke whine and moan to me about death, it's beady eyes, and street spirits... fading out... sleep...lots of sleep, and being alone. Mom still has to work...a lot... to support us, 2 teen girls, E. ANd I... she is 16 months older, will be 27 now, so soon, from now....

i finally got better and decided... on may 06 2003, i would run away. i talked to my best friend at the time, a boy named M. M. who decided he wanted to run away with me.... we ran and ran in his old bronco with $70...and no direction.. spent the night in louisville KY to visit Dave but he never showed (scared no bet, we found him on the internet)....slept in the childrens hospital parking lot... made it to Chicago the next day with no gas and no money... it's getting dark now and we are lost, a cop pulls us over and then theres the inevitable phone call.... put in a runaways shelter over night and then now i remember that walk down the steps, each step downward my mothers legs growing up towardd her torso and face, that solemn sorrowful sad frown, resting in her folded skin, the tears briefly brushed away....this began my 11 year and ongoing trek thru the UNITED STATES MENTAL HEALTH PSYCHIATRIC SYSTEM....

[junkDNA]

Im 16 and in a hospital, in Hickory NC. i met with a doctor, dr. "S"... and he commited me upon seeing my subtle distress. I am released upon 72 hours and when i get home i start to cut, cut at night and all day, in my room, all over my shins, over 150+ cuts, with razors, scissors, and knives. looking forward to it during long car rides with mom when shes off work one day and feels like taking a ride and showing me the country...for no reason, reasons like that, though, which make me love my mom right now, and everything she's done for me dealing with what was done to her and doing things she knows how to the best of her ability.....

free association typing- typing instead of oral free association, letting the hand essentially hyponotize itself and type what the brain is thinking, see:

Dissociation
Dissociated Parts/or Alters
Hallucinations
Psychosis
Complex PTSD
NOS symptoms abroad

hallucinations of 2 parts, no 3... a child, a young girl, luke a man but actually a boy mentally, who was molested and dr. x the dr. who spurred this post, which io will get to in a moment but

MORE ON THAT LATER....

[junkDNA]

now im 16, back in the same hospital, and it's been about 3 weeks. they are talking about transfering me to residential treatment center called Peninsula Village, on Jones Bend Road in Louisville, TENNESEEE, just outside of Knoxville. ive been a bad girl, kicking and screaming, blood, lots of blood and self-mutilation, hands grabbing mine while i squeezed myself in a tight space, dr "S" holding my blood soaked hands with his bare hands, trying to stop me from damaging my already massacred legs with my nails, my fingernails.... getting restrained by men 3 times my size (im still a young 16 year old girl, june 2003), shots in my *** that were probably along the lines of Haldol/ Cogentin mix.....

my mom is upset, everyone is upset, what spurred this i bet they thought, so OUT OF LEFT FIELD, right? they had no clue, so clueless, all of them, wondering, standing there with their dicks in their hands, waiting....

one early morning i get sent to "PV"... dr "S" holding my hand as we exit the hospital, in the parking lot now, i see lana and sarah's mom, mrs. remington, and e. my sister....my mom outside with us: me, DR "S", 2 people from PV and i am holding DR S's hand, he is telling me he loves me under his breath as they pack my bags in the trunk... I PULL TO GET AWAY, to run again, but they threaten handcuffs and i sit in the backseat of the car, strapped in with a seatbelt, my only possessions in my hands:

a toothbrush
and a paper back copy of
The Grapes of Wrath..

thus began my 8 month long stint at an abusive residential teenage wilderness (boot camp, cult, psychological abuse) program.

[junkDNA]

i get to learn the rules slowly, because to learn this game you have to play it... otherwise you wind up restrained in a bed under a 5-point restraint net under the booty juice concoction......

the first 4 months i am in STU, a unit that is seperated by gender, all female staff and patients.... alarms worn around the necks of staff to alert for a retsraint, i learned how it went off for the first time when i was restrained....

i began to pick at my cuticles, tearing them off one by one, bloody hands and skin,, made to wear white gloves... blood on white cotton, raising my hand to draw staff attention...i was forcedt hen to wear the restraint mitts... the mitts that are mesh that keep ur hands unable to do anything with ur fingers.... i had band aids on my fingertips to prevent picking and i was feeling the tips of my fingers to see if they were cold...

[Sannah]

[junkDNA]

thank u all

[InRealLife45]

that was intense

i got restrained countless times and shot in the a s s while IP. it was horrible.

[baseline]

I am so sorry for your pain! I admire your bravery!

[ladisputelover]

Wow. I couldn't even begin to imagine what you've gone tbrought. I am so incredibly sorry. Please take care of yourself, ok?

[junkDNA]

wow, i wrote this 3 yrs ago when i was very unwell. reading back has made me sad. i didnt realize others commented on it earlier this year.

i actually emailed this to my T today, and he read it in session. i've been working with him for 5 years.... i think i FINALLY want to start working on my trauma..but first we need to work on coping skills for the hard work of processing trauma..

things have gotten a lot better than November 2012...im not "BETTER" but ive come far in my recovery.

thanks to anyone who read and offered hugs, etc.