So, I thought about how I was going to title each day a lot. Originally I thought about chapters...but I don't feel they fit the way I need to write start writing this, with a bit of backstory. So, for now, I'll title it as I see fit for now and perhaps change to chapters once I'm feeling more set in the direction of this story.
Welcome to where my trauma stems from, childhood through high school.
I honestly don't remember a lot of my early childhood...and I'm learning that it's likely due to shutting that part of my brain off. To be fair, I'm not sure I want to open that part (something I think I can do through what's called shadow work, I'm still researching if it's something I want to delve into); the bits and pieces I remember are pretty traumatic enough (when I was 3 or 4 I half bit half cut a lamp cord in half using a pair of safety nail cutting scissors that had rubber around the finger holes; my parents rushed me, the lamp, and the scissors to the ER, the doctor said if the scissors had not had rubber (which is what I stuck in my mouth to "bite" through the cord) I would be in worse shape; I think I just had black all around my lips and I'm sure in a little shock; to this day, I wonder if that's the reason I don't really like to sit outside if neighbors are lighting fireworks off).
When we were kids, punishment was spanking...the majority of the time with a belt. It was mostly always mom, as my dad rarely stepped in to help raise us. And my mom was far to timid to ask him for help. As we got older punishment changed; sometimes we'd still get spanked, most of the time is was grounding from various things (friends, video games, books*), I also think there was extra cleaning that was given as punishment. As a side note, I was rarely spanked or punished. As the middle child I was the quiet one, the one who was kept home from school on occasion to help mom w/daycare when her migraines would hit. I was the "good kid". My siblings knew and hated it.
I think I learned at an early age that when we got in trouble, I needed to say what mom wanted to hear, not what I really thought. I feel like I did anything to keep her happy and to keep her from punishing me harshly.
My brother and sister were the rebels. Always in trouble. I remember once when I was in 6th or 7th grade, my brother and I got in a fight while our parents were gone. He was screaming at me, so I grabbed an ice cube from the freezer and chucked it at his head. He got pissed and kicked a hole in the back of his bedroom door. I swear we told mom what happened, but when we were talking about childhood stuff a while back, I told mom about it and she acted shocked (she laughed, but still couldn't believe I'd never told her). I don't think my sister and I ever got into serious fights the way my brother and I did.
Anyway. Fast forward to dating ages. When I was in middle and high school, I had crushes, but never boyfriends. Never. Boyfriends. I sometimes feel like the reason I never had boyfriends in high school is because I was SO caught up and lusting over ONE guy the 3 years we were in school together (he was a grade ahead of me), and everyone knew it; band was kind of a buzzkill for that to be honest.
I dated a few guys over the few years I was in college, but it was only ever dates, nothing serious. These college dates were the ones my sister helped me cover for. The internet was newer and my sister and I were always in chat rooms. So mom was, understandably, spooked. She didn't want us meeting anyone off the internet or giving out our address or anything (which, duh, neither one of us ever did). I don't drink alcohol, so going to bars to meet people isn't my thing. Plus, I hated the way I looked (crooked teeth, too fat, not pretty), so internet friends were a nice thing to have. One of the last guys I went on a few dates with, we met for the first time at a coffee shop downtown. My sister and her then boyfriend went down and sat in the shop the whole time I was on my date, she was super protective of me (I was a very sensitive person, cried easy, didn't take rejection well, etc) and would have thrown hands if any guy ever upset me.
When I got heavily into the internet and different chat rooms, I met my current husband. He is almost 10 years older than me. At the time, I was young and naïve. And since I had never had a guy show any interest in me, when he did, I turned into a twitterpated 25 year old. Looking back now, I wish I hadn't been so twitterpated, I wish I had been more cautious and knew what love bombing was. Because that is how he hooked me and kept me until after he moved here and we got pregnant. Then, all the gifts, physical touch, sweet words, love bombing faded out.
I still sucked at communication after he moved here. I didn't want to confront him on things that I needed to confront him on. And once I had our kiddo, I was having a case of the baby blues, and didn't realize that I should be making him help w/night feedings. Hell, again with the naiveté, I thought because I was a mom, I was the one responsible for taking care of him so his dad could sleep and be well rested for work the next day. Looking back, was I ever wrong. My mom and I have talked A LOT about this over the last 10 years. She says she wishes she would have insisted on staying with us a couple nights to help and so I could get sleep (but the husband said no). She also said she wishes she would have known how to talk to me about what a narcissist he really is. I'll admit, looking back, I shrugged off everything she had; I had an excuse for everything. But the more she and I have talked about it, I wish I would have been more aware of things and less in the puppy love stage still to be able to say enough is enough and leave him while our son was young. I also wish my mom would have said to me "leave him!"
It's interesting how a little research, seeing others talk of their life struggles, self love, journaling (I have kept several journals over the last few years), self reflection, learning how to communicate better, and regulate my emotions better has really opened up my mind and eyes to where my trauma and lack of communication and emotional regulation stemmed from.
That's it for today. I promise, there is a lot in here that I'm sure you want details about, and those will be coming in their respective posts. But I have to do this in small chunks or I get overwhelmed and the post ends up all over the place.
Thanks for reading.
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