Fighting My Way Back

girl

Complex PTSD is nothing short of a scourge on humanity. It robs sufferers of so much. Not only do you have to go through the original traumas but them thanks to CPTSD you are dogged by repeated trauma because of flashbacks and reexperiences. It is cruel, unrelenting and all-consuming.

I have not been blogging for the last nine weeks as I  have been in a Mental Health Clinic following a major overdose which nearly killed me.  I spent a week on intubation in ICU and a further two weeks on a high dependency ward recovering. I awoke regretting my attempt had failed. How wretched for my husband and family! I have put them through so much which I deeply regret but it doesn’t stop me from despairing that I am still alive. I so dearly want to be free from these ever-increasing flashbacks. They come furious and fast several times a day, plunging me into a deep dark abyss of despair as I re-live the trauma of my abusive childhood for the last four long years.

It is very hard to explain. I love my family with all my heart. I adore my husband and we have a wonderful relationship. It is not my family I wish to leave. It is an an escape from the ever-present torment.He has been nothing but supportive of me for the last five years since fighting CPTSD and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) brought on by the testimony of the witnesses of the Royal Commission into Institutional Child Abuse here in Australia in 2012.It had all remained repressed for thirty-five years since my immigration here to Australia from Ireland. Then like an all-consuming monster is resurfaced and has been trying to kill me through overdoses and self-harm ever since.

So why then despite this deep love of my family am I so chronically suicidal? It is a very difficult, ponderous question and shows the depths of the damage of child sexual abuse. The guilt and shame that it indelibly imprints on the victim and the inescapable tentacles that it sends out. I truly believe that I am to blame. My psychotherapist and psychiatrist doggedly and repeatedly tell me that I am not to blame. The paedophiles groomed me so expertly that part of my brain is so damaged it is unreachable by their desperate words. They tell me every session and yet I still don’t believe them. I truly believe that I am to blame for the crimes committed against me.

I am home now and am glad to be so, surrounded by my family. we had a beautiful meal last night and I was happy for the first time in three months. I want to be with them. I am fighting my way back. I will not give in. I am sure I will stumble along the way again but I met some extraordinary people in the clinic. I will write of them in future blogs. truly inspirational people.

Complex PTSD and DID must not be allowed to win. My mother alter (Dissociative Identity and The Mother Alter) drives me to suicide and it is she I must conquer and will do so with the aid of my family and professionals. To those of you out there. Never give up. There has to be an end in sight however far away.

 

 

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