I always see these abuse victims who come out and talk about their abuse and how they still struggle but they are survivors. They might discuss the abuse details or some of the affects it had on them. I never see people talking about the PTSD and the pain and terror and nightmares as its happening. I decided I am going to tell you about that part. The part that no one really discusses. First of all, I have an internal struggle between being a victim or being a survivor. Technically I am a survivor because the abuse is over. If I am a survivor, why do I feel like such a victim? I have a large ego and see myself as this strong, conquer anything person. It gets harder to rebuild that each time I find myself balled up in the shower. I am going to give you a very vague background, I was sexually abused by my father when I was around ten (somewhere in that age range) and it lasted 2 years and some months. I went to court, he is in prison now and will be for 20-30 years. He just appealed and I guess that is what is stirring things up. Right after I came out about the abuse, I would have horribly realistic nightmares so bad that I would wet the bed. I would be sitting in class and have a flashback where I could feel, smell, taste, everything inside that flashback and I would shake and want to cry in the middle of class. I had severe PTSD (Post-traumatic stress disorder). I didn’t want to talk to anybody about it and I tended to bullshit (sorry for the language) my counselors. After ia few months I said I was over it and I started cutting. I got put into a mental hospital for that for a few days and then I got sent to a residential treatment center that I think scarred me more than the abuse! Then I went to live with my sister and started a stealing phase that ended when I got arrested. Its extremely difficult when everyone is telling you how strong you are, that sharing your story could help people, and that you should write a book. I hated that. What do you write in a book? Every detail? I felt like no one would want to read that! Also my story is so minimal compared to others. The people who should be writing books are those women that were kidnapped for over ten years and used basically as sex slaves and escaped. Not me. Anyways moving on to currently, I thought I was over it. I even sent him a letter saying that I forgave him and also to buzz off. Then at school I smelt something that triggered a flashback and I was so shaken up that I didn’t tell anyone. That was a few months ago. Then I took a shower and the noise triggered a continuous real of flashbacks. When they had run their course I was in fetal position on the floor of my bathtub with cold water running over me. I felt so dirty that I turned on the water as hot as it would go until my skin was numb and red. Then I went and sat on the couch. My sister was eating dinner and she saw I was shaken up so I texted her what happened. Then I went to my room and I cried silently wrapped up in my blanket and wouldn’t even let my pups in. I don’t like crying because not only is it messy but I feel vulnerablr and weak when I cry so I don’t do it very often. My sister came in and layed on the bed and patted my hair and kept telling me to tell her what my flashback was about. I sobbed loudly. I wasn’t upset about the flashback itself, I was pissed off that I can’t even control my own mind. How am I some tough survivor when I can’t even control something as simple as mind. I was outraged that I was so weak and felt so little. I told myself that I would never let anyone make me feel that way again and I was under attack from myself. How is anyone supposed to cope with that. Its like a sick joke. I keep having nightmares and I am terrified to sleep. I don’t want to close my eyes because I know that horrific monsters are just waiting for me. Its a horrible, undescribable feeling when the demons you are scared of are inside your own mind. I don’t want to tell anyone. I have told my sister a few times but I hate putting all of my issues onto someone else. I’m ashamed that I can’t stop it. I literally want to tear my hair out and my self worth is plummeting. I consider my self logical and rational and it is killing me that I am irrationally terrified of illogical fears. Self-doubt is terrifying for me when I am usually so sure of myself. These are the ugly truths that no one talks about. Probably because when you hear about this you pity them or see them as broken. It makes sense that you would. Not all stories have a happy ending and our societies shy away from those that end badly. I still have time to figure out this mess so I guess I will hope that it gets better.
Teen Resilience 