I went years through my life being closed off and keeping people at arm’s length and not really knowing why I self-sabotaged real connections I made.
Most of my life was spent feeling numb, where I continuously had recurring breakdowns of emotions. I struggled with expressing myself or even discussing feelings. It was as if I was trapped in a cycle. What I thought was normal, in fact, wasn’t.
When I became a father was when I started realizing that things weren’t quite right. I still wasn’t sure what was wrong, but I knew something was. It wasn’t until my daughter turned 5, and the death of the man who I later found out was my abuser, that things really hit me hard. I would often suffer from emotional flashbacks and not know what it meant. Or why I was even having them.
It was my late aunt who suggested I speak to someone about everything going on with me. At first I was reluctant because I was a private person and didn’t like the idea of opening myself up to a stranger. However, I eventually realized that keeping everything bottled up was taking a toll on my mental health. I eventually scheduled an appointment with a therapist, hoping to gain some clarity and understanding, not realizing that what was about to be exposed would change my life completely.
Learning about my trauma
It turns out my daughter turning 5 was a catalyst for my trauma to begin pouring out of me. The age of her was significant because that was when my child abuse began for me. It was as if a floodgate had opened, and memories I had buried deep within resurfaced. It’s then I learned about dissociative amnesia and how that impacted me. I had completely blocked out large chunks of my life.
At first I was in denial and didn’t want to believe anything that I was remembering or opening up about. The flashbacks became so intense, and all of these things I knew did happen to me didn’t feel like they were my thoughts or belonged to me. I felt so disconnected from the memories, which was due to my dissociation. The further I delved into my therapy, the more I learned, and I eventually was diagnosed with cPTSD.
It took 3 attempts at finding a therapist who actually helped me to receive the diagnosis, and when I eventually did, it was as if a missing piece of myself was finally found. The relief was overwhelming, yet it also brought a wave of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Understanding the root of my struggles allowed me to begin the journey of healing, and importantly, I began to feel things, and no longer felt numb.
The healing journey began
During my healing journey and especially at the beginning, I often would question what even was my brain. I had to deprogram everything I thought I knew to be able to learn new ways to cope with my trauma and learn to live with my cPTSD. I began understanding my behaviours and why I was the way I was. So much grief set in, and it felt like that first step was like drawing out an infection.
The early recovery was hard. I had terrible nightmares and night sweats and fell into bad depression. I tried various antidepressants, which didn’t help, so I had TMS therapy, which greatly helped with my depression. Far more than any medication did.
I’ve spent the last decade in therapy and learning to heal. To self-reflect. Learning to grieve and accept. I’m more compassionate towards myself now, and I’ve altered my expectations for myself. I’ve learned that healing is a gradual process, and it’s okay to take things one step at a time. Embracing vulnerability has become a strength, allowing me to connect more deeply with others and experience life more fully.
Healing from complex trauma takes time, patience, and practice. It’s a long journey from denial to acceptance and past survival to thriving. It not only involves addressing the emotional wounds but rebuilding a sense of safety in not only ourselves but in others too. Each step forward can feel daunting, but with the right support and resources, we can gradually reclaim our sense of self and well-being, and when we reach that point? It truly is a beautiful thing.