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We learn the skills of emotional regulation from those who raise us. (What happens when home is a scary place?) Kids come into this world partially hardwired by genes, but nurture does the rest. Interaction between parent & child forms neural paths that help or hinder our emotional life. The child depends on the parent to BE their emotional external regulator, & if the parent is the one who scares them, the child loses access to emotional regulation. Being scared, with no one to tell them it's okay, or cuddle them, embeds the fear as an overpowering force that they will struggle with for life. For some of us, this is our story.

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Thanks to everyone sharing here. We hav deep wounds & have struggled to get clarity, to find our way in life. I was relieved to learn about childhood ptsd (known as c-ptsd), cuz it made me see myself differently, like a wasn't really a reject, or hopeless. Pete Walker has great articles online that help, cuz he was traumatized as a child himself. This is a link to his Q&A page. http://pete-walker.com/fAQsComplexPTSD.html. 💝,m
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Yes, emotional regulation is an issue for me. My father was the abusive one and we all walked on egg shells in his presence, me especially. My sister was 5 yrs. older than I so she got out of the house as soon as she could. I stayed behind and got more than my share of the abuse. Lots of screaming and yelling and my name was never called in a civil manner. Way into my forties I still jumped (exaggerated startle response) whenever anyone called my name.
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Im really late to comment here, I just found this group..today! Please bear with me, I'm not the most eloquent cookie in the barrel.
My severe PTSD has been with me, my entire life, but only diagnosed 3 years ago. I suffered at the hands of many people in my upbringing. Parents, siblings, bullies, other family members, just people.
My parents fought, it seems like constantly. Cussing, screaming, hitting, scary! My daddy beat me black and blue when I was 2, because he told me to pick up my toys, and I told him " No!"
I was raped by an adult male family member, when I was 9. Terror is a small word in comparison to how I felt. Then I felt nothing..
When I was 13-15, I was being raped by an adult family member. He told me if I told any body, I would get into trouble. I didn't tell.
In March of 1990 I was 15 years old. I was riding a horse, and she threw me. The fall put me into a coma. While in this coma, an ultrasound tech was doing a sonogram on my abdomen, during this sonogram, she learned, I had a 1st trimester baby in utero. No precautions had been taken, during x-rays, MRI'S, CT Scans, or any of the many drugs they were pumping into me, while I was in a coma. After I regained consciousness, I couldn't walk, or talk. My memory was very little. I believe this had a great impact on the development of my PTSD as well.
I am so sorry that you suffer from this monster. People that don't have PTSD, just don't get it.
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@Lostinva Wow, you're an amazing woman and a much kinder woman than I am. I would never agree to care for my abuser. Bless you on your journey.
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I was in my 40s when dx with PTSD during counseling for an entirely different reason than taking care of my mother. An alcoholic father that beat mom & me made me an angry young girl who married at 17 to get out of the house. My mom often “tattled” on me so that I would get a beating when Dad got home from the bar & she just stood there, never defending me. The anger surfaced after I moved her into my home, doing the dutiful daughter thing. She is manipulative, mean, selfish & seeing her in this light is bringing back the anger of her never loving me enough to protect me. For my sanity & my marriage, she needs to go to LTC. I’m amazed how my dx has come back to haunt me with the horrible childhood memories. We are not close, never have been & I now pity her. I feel a failure because of my feelings towards her that prevents me from taking care of her as I should. God gives me the strength for each day.
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Tiger,

I get what you’re saying. It is complicated at times. It truly is. Memories can be extremely difficult even if we logically know that yesterday is gone. All we can do is to keep functioning well when needed, take breaks when needed and for me, may sound weird but tune out when needed in order to survive. I refer to it as autopilot to get the job done.
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Fairieflies,

I have no idea who would judge any of what you said. I certainly wouldn’t and appreciate every single word! Thanks for your wisdom.
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That's very interesting, (how you became "better"), I'm truly happy for you. I feel like I've barely made it through life, but I did accomplish a few great things, (for me anyway). I think the reason I never recovered is due to the isolation of my childhood years. (Being trapped in insanity, I grew into dysfunction). Glad that I've been able to work (very hard) in life, cuz work became my lifesaver. I miss work terribly now. I'm not bitter against anyone though, cuz I feel that God knows how to take care of it all, in the end.
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I've avoided answering this one because my experience of surviving childhood abuse was different than many others. Whenever I attempt to put these words to text it always seems to be taken the wrong way. People get defensive and angry if their experience isn't what mine is. We aren't here to condemn one another but only to share our unique reality. I was raised by a series of broken adults who abused and neglected me. There were a few decent humans tossed in from time to time to show me a better way, but even those "decent humans" were not decent enough to reach out and pull me away from the monsters.

I never depended on those raising me to BE anything for me. I recognized early on that I was on my own, my life was in my hands. That may be why instead of having trouble regulating emotion or being afraid of the reality of an unsafe world; I moved toward fearlessness and the confidence that I can handle anything the humans in this world toss at me.

Surviving life with abusive adults did teach me that the world is not safe. Which is actually true, it is not safe. It's not as scary as my monsters wanted me to think it was but life isn't safe and that's ok. Knowing that fact didn't make me afraid, it made me feel like a freakin super-hero. They had raped, tortured, starved, burned, drowned, and even "killed" me but I kept coming back. Their mood swings, and corresponding abuse made me hyper aware of my surroundings and of the non-verbal cues of others, which gave me an uncanny ability to read people. I became very good at understanding people and keeping that reading to myself. It left me with incredibly fast reflexes and an ability to physically endure just about anything.

An old soldier pulled me aside as a child and gave me some very good advice. He told me that what my abusers had done and were doing to me gave me "a unique set of skills" which would come in handy in my life. He said I should choose to recognize what my "super powers" are and use those skills by twisting them into tools rather than letting them hold me back. My experiences could either make me afraid or leave me fearless and the choice was mine.

His words had a lot of power. I was in control of me. The idea that the choice of what I do with what others had done and were doing to me was mine to make was empowering. It was just what I needed to save me from my childhood monsters.

I could choose to be afraid of human monsters my whole life or I could choose to realize that they had not been able to kill me despite their best attempts and that made me more powerful than any of them. Whenever someone (usually an adult) told me that I could never do something because of what I'd been through I set out to prove them wrong. I chose to take from the abusive monsters the tools that were useful for building a life and toss aside the baggage that wasn't mine to carry.

That's just my experience. It is not a holier than thou judgment on anyone who experienced results of childhood abuse differently. It's not a condemnation of anyone whose experience was different than mine. For me it simply is what it is for my life.
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Yep, Well said. If 'home' isn't safe, you think the world isn't either.

Only 23 years of therapy and I truly 'get that'.
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