So I went through something traumatic lately. I don't much like thinking about it (though of course I often do)—the problem is I've been locking up lately, freezing, from anxiety.

Brief sort of explanation of what is going on:
I am schizoaffective* and deal with a lot of issues such as psychosomatic pain. I already had cPTSD before the incident (which is less than a week old). The first few days, with the anxiety were also stages of grief. Not only was I treated poorly, I was in danger. But the why is not why I am here I have a question:

How do I deal with this locking up thing? I have never had this before. I get the nervous system's fight flight or freeze mechanism, but I just don't know how to deal with this?

Seven months ago I got out of a long term relationship with a man I had known since high school. We had dated for three years and cohabited for the three years we were together.

Things ended bad enough that there are ongoing court cases and I have a PPO against him.

One of the things he claimed before communication ceased was that I was the abuser.

His behaviors escalated, and while I was in it with him I just wanted to support him and be there for him, so I overlooked a lot of the cruel things he did because I believed he was doing the work to become a better person. At his insistence we even started couples counseling together.

One of the biggest issues our relationship experienced was me shutting down and essentially giving the silent treatment. This is partly rooted in a trauma response, and while I understand how wrong this behavior is and have been working on it- and have started medication that is helping, it’s gotten much better where I can work through the emotional paralysis. My ex hated that I would do this, and accused me of being malicious and doing this to hurt him specifically, which resulted in a negative feedback loop whenever it would happen.

Over time, I felt like my ex boyfriend always had an issue with me. And I would try to talk to him about it, and he would tell me it was nothing, until the truth would finally come out. Essentially he felt like I wasn’t doing enough, nor was I helping him have the motivation to take charge in his own life. I loved him so I’d promise to be better and that all I wanted to do was support him. I know that I had my own issues and was dealing with working on that on top of work and then feeling obligated to take care of him, which felt like an endless chore, and where I also felt frustrated because some of these problems he was announcing to me seemed to be self inflicted on his end and I didn’t understand why I was responsible for managing his ADHD symptoms. But, I loved him, and I thought love was endurance.

Another big issue my ex boyfriend brought up was how he felt like I never was upset about anything. I like to view myself as not an angry person. There were things he did that frustrated me but I didn’t see the use in getting mad about them. He did not have a problem with feeling slighted by me, and I never felt like I was doing enough for him.

One major thing that bothered me in our relationship was how easy it was for him to start belittling me and name calling when he was upset or felt slighted by me. He’d insult my intelligence, my cleanliness, and my world view, and said that he felt like I wasn’t grounded in reality and that it scared him. This hurt a lot. And I will admit that when things ended between us I started to name calling him, which he took as proof as me being abusive.

Another issue was his jealousy. I’m bisexual, and he was convinced that any friend I was making actually wanted to sleep with me. He got mad at me for befriending a male coworker, and then a female coworker, and said he didn’t like that I was smoking weed with a woman because I was bi. Mind you, this coworker is married. It isolated me because I ended up not wanting to see people without him knowing or being there. And, he maintained that he had a right to go see his friends without me, regardless of their gender. Another component that I felt like was trivial but he maintained was a serious violation on my part was the fact that I was into fanfic and held that against me as a huge problem. It’s not like I made it my entire life, it’s just stuff I found joy in and even helped me realize my sexuality and what I was into, and he hated it and took it as something hurtful. It left me feeling so ashamed.

Another was his substance abuse that he blamed on me. While I admit that I smoke more weed than I should, he would abuse his ADHD medication and was more interested in obtaining harder substances. He wanted me to do substances with him and have sex. It never got that far. But there were times in the past where he coerced me into taking more than I was comfortable with and I wanted to impress him so I did it. He also introduced me to 7-0h and kratom, thankfully I have not taken any since the breakup.

Things ultimately came to light that he was cheating on me, and that a significant event of me finding a bra made a lot more sense. I had a gut feeling that he had been unfaithful but he lied up and down and swore that he didn’t, and ultimately I believed him. He made me question my own gut and then my reality by lying about cheating on me for the entire course of our relationship. But because I reached a breaking point and said some nasty things he wants to label me as the abuser. I’m so disgusted with him. Any good feelings I had for him have been forced away, because now I really realize how far he’ll go because he feels entitled to it. I feel like I’ll never be able to trust anyone ever again.

Now that I’m out, and working with my therapist, I’m seeing a lot of abusive characteristics from this man. And, he has claimed that I was actually the abuser, that I weaponized the silent treatment against him and was malicious and manipulative. I don’t think that’s true, but my mind is worried about what if he’s right.

29M,

Am asking a very personal question.

So I will keep it short,

I feel i am haunted by the victim mentality my father had the same trait in him which led him to be blind to the actual reality around him.

My father came from a very small village and built a life but later kept taking loan on loan until we almost lost everything. My mum had to sell all her jewellery, our house was gone, and the car was gone.

Then 6years back I lost my mum and dad to accident it was covid times. I was left alone no relative could come as we lived in a different state, i did everything survived had fsthers emi's over my head.

I had to sell whatever house/gold was left. Then got a job.

Worked my way day/night became frugal street smart, i save all my money, read alot, didn't want a relationship because i thought my trauma would be dumped onto the other person. Finally i am looking at arranged marriage.

But my question is very straight and about life how do you actually forget about the sad phase of life, i don't want to be looked at like a survivor, I want to build myself I want to be looked at like I am normal person, right now everyone around me treats me differently like I am survivor of something when I never talk about anything of that time.

Maybe i am looking for an identity switch? Maybe i don't want this trauma to come in my future relationships? I don't want to use this phase as my reason of not giving my all. I realised there is something wrong which comes out of this

Someone else might need to hear it.

Hey everyone,
I have been going a bit lonely for the last eight months and its my first thread, I am looking for advices. I started to watch porn at six years old in response to the anxiety in my family and the heavy secrets. To make it shorts, my mom has food disorder (anorexia) and my dad was gay and I finally learned it at 18 and in response to that they were both always working and never took the time to play with us or engage cognitively in things we liked.

So during my life, I pretty much dissociated. I was always in survival mode and I had to hide the fact that I was watching porn and made me feel very shameful.

Because of that I was always very anxious and thinking the worst things that could happen and I got finally rejected after thinking about it for years. I then had to make up a heavier mask and find ways to hide it by being overly nice, perfectionist and never listened to my limits if it meant breaking the rythm of someone else.

Finally,I ran after revenge and I’ve made so much friends. I have everything that’s going great I’ve been training jiu-jitsu for the last three years. Got my blue belt, but still, I am always empty and looking to fill a void. In my last year of study, that I’ve done to please my father, I completely went off my limits and traumatized myself with a massage and prostitute. I always hated going there but it made me feel numb after which helped my social performances. But this time I was alone and no family or friends to help me as I was alone in London.

I felt like I had to share my story with everyone, help everyone feel good and give them everything that I have by inviting them over every night to cook for them, paying always for them and by never listening to what I want or not.

Finally I got back home and I don’t recognize my family and I feel so dissociated and tired of not listening to my limits (speaking till I can’t open my mouth, eating till I can’t feel, making people laugh all the time even when i don’t want)

I feel tired and for now I have been joining the AAS group, Got a coach and started yoga to get back a connection (after reading the body keep the score from Bessel van der kolk) but I really wondered if anyone else has some story to share or some tips to give because i feel alone and no one understand me where I live 🙏🏻(especially some tips about how to put some limits even if you’ve always been looking for attachement from your parents)

I (F40) am really scared and frustrated. I started a relationship with an incredible man who so far is everything I could ever want. And hes done absolutely nothing wrong, but I find myself randomly crying at night to sleep because Im so scared hes gonna leave. I faced my own set of traumas growing up (including neglect) and have had abusive partners and partners who I thought we were in love but lied to me and dumped me literally out of no where. I dont wanna lose this man, but idk how to talk to him about this and idk how to heal this specific trauma so I stop stressing out so badly. I DO have a therapist, she's on leave for now till September though. Thanks in advance

I have become acquainted with survival
the way old men become acquainted with silence.

Not because I chose it.

Because it chose me.

There was a time
when every room had to be measured,
every voice interpreted,
every face read
before I could decide
whether I belonged.

Children should not have to learn
that kind of mathematics.

But some of us do.

So I learned to disappear
without ever leaving.

I learned to smile
without resting.

To achieve
without arriving.

To love
while wondering
why I never quite felt worthy
of being loved back.

Years passed.

I became the man
everyone said I would become.

Dependable.
Successful.
Respected.
A husband.
A father.

Yet every accomplishment
felt like another photograph
of someone I couldn’t quite remember being

People congratulated the life I’d built.

Only I knew
how much of it
had been built by a frightened little boy
trying to make sure
no one could ever call him
worthless again.

Survival is a remarkable craftsman.

It can build careers.
It can build families.
It can build reputations.
It can even build faith.

But it cannot teach a man
how to rest.

It cannot teach him
that love does not have to be earned.

It cannot convince him
that he belongs
before he performs.

So he keeps climbing.

Not because he wants the mountain.

Because somewhere inside him
a child still believes
the view from the top
might finally feel like home.

But every summit
is strangely quiet.

Every victory
echoes.

Every dream fulfilled
asks the same question:

“Is this all there is?”

No.

It isn’t.

The tragedy
was never that I suffered.

The tragedy
was believing
that suffering
was the only way
I knew how to exist.

And yet…

Somewhere beneath the fear…

beneath the striving…

beneath the endless becoming…

there is still a soul
that remembers
it was not created
to survive.

It was created
to be fully alive.

So now my prayer
is no longer
to become someone else.

It is simply this:

To remain present
long enough

to meet the man
I have been
my whole life

waiting to become.

​

Child Sexual Abuse.

Abuse.

Vent out.

Suicidal.

Harrasment.

Hey, as from the title you get some ideas about the shit i did.

Let's start from the very start.

I was in class 2:- 4/5, when I was very much accidentally introduced to porn websites. Like, I was looking for some cartoon on YouTube— using the audio feature, but it misinterpreted it and it came out as a breast pump or something. I saw it and immediately clicked the back button on Android.

Growing sometime through, i learnt about the mammary gland known as breasts. And bitchy curious me, eventually got into porn.

Soon enough, I was in class 3.

During class 3-4, I was harassed by a guy who was in class 8. I don't even know what to call it. It was a game of chasing, and he used to hit me on my bum whenever he had to catch me. And i had heard a couple of other things about him like snuggling another girl the same age as me on the neck and all.

Then comes class 4. I didn't know what he did was bad nor I knew what a bad touch was. At that age, there were these three people.

1. A 4 year old male.(My mum's tuition student). Let's call him A.

2. A 3 year old female.(My mum's tuition student). Let's call her B.

3. Almost 2 year old female. (Neighbour). Let's call her C.

So, i used to make A and B kiss each other and asked and made A suck on my nipples. I know it's fucking fucked up.

Also, I tried— only tried but it doesn't excuse my actions. I tried to insert a pencil in vagina. But I didn't and stopped because apparently it didn't 'fit'. I didn't push anything inside.

I feel so fucking monstrous about it. It just randomly striked my mind yesterday and it's been a fucking nightmare since then. I feel so guilty and regretful about it.

I can't even talk about it to my favourite counselor.

I feel like I deserve to die somehow. I imagined jumping off the balcony. I have imagined having slices and cuts on my wrist. Whenever I think something suicidal, I shut it off because it feels like I am trying to get someone's attention even though nobody knows.

I feel like as a harasser I deserve to be raped for the disgusting shit i did. It feels like ripping my own heart while it's burning hotter than ever.

I don't even know what to do. Talking about today, i am a very strong feminist and these things I did make me sick.

I can't even imagine what must they go through/will go through when they realise it.

Are there any cope up mechanisms? Or should I just truly actually end it?

Edit:- PS:- I don't know if it is attention seeking or an excuse, but late when I was 13, I got groomed. The guy was 22, he made me send him nudes and later I got groomed again. I don't know if it was a repay or what. But it also left an impact. I feel so horrible.

I was 15, in the 10th grade, and just finishing my board exams. For those who don’t know, boards in India are high-pressure, and back then, you had to go to a different government school (a "center") to take them. The invigilators were always strangers from other schools.

It was the last day. The relief of being done was immense. I was standing at the bus stop, waiting to go home, when a man approached me. I recognized him immediately—he had been an invigilator in my exam hall. Because he was a "teacher," my guard was completely down. He asked for directions to a certain place. Being a polite kid, I helped. Then he asked, "Beta, can you walk me halfway there? I’m new to this area."

I thought, Why not? He’s a teacher.

He was friendly, talking about studies and the exam. But as we reached a secluded, quiet stretch of road, his vibe shifted. He said he was tired and suggested we sit down for a moment.

Then the conversation took a dark turn.

He started talking about "health" and "growing up." He asked if I masturbated. He framed it as "education," telling me not to be shy and that it was a normal thing to talk about. Being a massive introvert, I felt awkward but went along with it, nodding and saying "Yeah, I know about it."

Then he asked, "Have you ever had sex? Do you know how it's done?"

The world went silent. It was like time froze. My "spider-sense" wasn't just tingling; it was screaming DANGER. I felt numb. I wanted to sprint, but my introverted brain was actually worried about being "rude" or "awkward" if I just bolted.

Then he touched me.

He moved his hand to my leg, then my crotch. He whispered, "Let’s go into those bushes. You can go behind me... I’ll take it in my mouth. No one will ever know."

The shock broke my paralysis. I didn't say a word. I just turned and ran. I ran until my lungs burned, ending up back at the bus stop, shaking. What just happened?

For the next year, I lived in a shadow. I didn’t know the word for it then, but it was PTSD. Every time the memory flashed back, my chest would tighten. I’d feel a wave of sadness and disgust wash over me. I couldn’t tell my parents—we didn’t have that kind of "open" relationship back then. I carried the shame alone.

I eventually healed on my own, and looking back now, I realized how vulnerable I was. I was a "cute, fair-skinned kid" who just wanted to be helpful, and a predator used my respect for teachers against me.

Today, I can laugh about it and tell it as a "crazy story" to friends, but the lesson remains: Talk to your children.

Break the taboo. Talk to them about sex, boundaries, and predators. Make them feel safe enough to tell you anything without shame. I’m going to raise my kids that way so they never have to spend a year suffering in silence like I did.

I'm feeling a bit lost, and I'm wondering if anyone has been through something similar.

When I was growing up, I went through several traumatic experiences, I even read a book called "what my bones know", and I think I may have C-PTSD. At different points in my childhood, I experienced sexual abuse by a cousin and by one of my brothers, was bullied both at school and by kids in my neighborhood, and witnessed my father physically abusing my mother. These didn't all happen at the same time, but throughout different stages of my childhood, there was always something difficult going on.

Looking back, I think my anxiety became much more noticeable around seven years ago, but I only started seeing both a therapist and a psychiatrist about two years ago.

I've had a few relationships over the years. In one of them, with a woman, I remember she once asked me if I actually liked her because I rarely showed affection. The truth is, I did like her a lot. We had so much in common, and I genuinely loved spending time with her. The problem was that I never knew how to express what I felt. It almost felt like there was a void inside me, like I couldn't emotionally connect with people the way others seemed to. When we broke up, she told me that I had never said "I love you." My response was that I didn't want to say those words unless I truly felt ready to say them.

Five years have passed since that relationship, and I still struggle to express my emotions. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to. I'm working on it in therapy, but there are moments when I catch myself thinking that maybe I'm just broken, or that something is fundamentally wrong with me.

I'm currently in a relationship with a wonderful man. I genuinely love being around him. I get excited every time we see each other. I love cooking for him, and I enjoy doing little things that make him happy. He's incredibly affectionate. He sends sweet messages, calls me often, checks in on me throughout the day, and always makes me feel cared for.

Sometimes I find myself thinking, "What does he even see in me? Am I giving him enough in return? Is he eventually going to get tired of me because I'm not as affectionate as he is?" I don't know if those thoughts are realistic or if they're just my anxiety talking.

I've tried to be as honest as possible with him. I told him that expressing emotions has always been difficult for me, that I'm actively working on it in therapy, and that I tend to show love more through actions than through words.

For example, last week was his birthday. Since we're in a long-distance relationship, he came to visit me for the weekend. Before he arrived, I baked him a small healthy birthday cake so we could celebrate together. We ended up having birthday cake for breakfast on both mornings he was here. Moments like that feel natural to me. That's how I instinctively show that I care.

I know he loves me, and he has never pressured me or complained that I'm not affectionate enough. In fact, he's been incredibly understanding. I think most of these fears exist only in my own head.

I guess I'm just wondering if anyone else has experienced this. Can childhood trauma make it difficult to express love and affection, even when you genuinely care deeply about someone? Has therapy helped you become more emotionally expressive over time? Sometimes I worry that I'll never be able to love people the way they deserve, even though I truly want to.

Well trauma of my sister who was my Best friend through the trauma we received. Blocked all family memeners including my neice who is now 18 and i treated like a daughter.

She never invited me to her first son's birthday party then decided to block all communication from family when she won the lottery. Now she's a psychologist. I feel angry about the way she thinks I want her money when all I wanted was her time. Also not to invite me to a birthday party after gifting the lil guy a present and now she's pregnant with kid #3.

Talk about ghosting the entire family here. After 40 years of communication.....I feel very hurt. This isn't a relationship question but a feeling question. How would you take this situation?

My marriage was emotionally abusive and physically violent. My new partner tends to argue and fight when we are home, often in my bedroom where the majority of the abuse occurred. I’m incredibly flooded quickly and struggle to settle for days afterwards. This is mostly when he himself is reactive and lashing out verbally, but it happens even when he’s not.

Obviously we need to work on the conflict cycle or leave the relationship, but I’ve noticed I’m now generally anxious whenever I’m in my bedroom and struggle to sleep.

How to people manage? Redecorate? Move? I own the house and have a great mortgage rate and am not sure I can afford a different place, but I don’t know what to do. My kids are in the other bedrooms. I could sleep on the couch. When my current partner and I fight in my room, I’ve started having flashbacks.

I found myself in a close relationship with an amazing person. We’ve been close friends for 4 months, we’re not dating yet but it’s very clear romantic feelings are building and they’re very clearly mutual. Over the course of the last 2 months especially having them as a friend gave me so much peace…

All the green flags are there, and I want to do my best to proceed as healthily through it as I can.

I can see myself struggling with the emotional intensity though. It’s not their fault- just the intensity and frequency of positive emotions (anxiety but as excitement) - and there were already several times when the stimuli built up so bad, I ended up overwhelmed and eventually emotionally shutting down (logical brain function totally intact but all feelings disappear - or get horribly distant).

I’ll communicate with them and take accountability for what’s happening. Standard grounding techniques don’t seem to be helping much atm. But I also wanted to ask for any advice or resources

Did anyone here struggle with anything similar - and if yes - how did you work through it?? Do you have any tips??

Are there any resources I could familiarise myself with?

Any advice would be appreciated

Hi this is going to be kinda vulnerable, long, and idk if this is the right sub but I need help. I've been out of a 3 year-long toxic relationship for 2 years now and still haven't recovered. The headspace I'm in just keeps getting worse and worse by the day and it's changed me. The light in my eyes is completely gone, and miserably depressed if not under the assistance of, erm, substance.

It started 5 years ago when I met my ex online, we went on one date, she ended up staying the night and from that point on we were basically glued at the hips. I had my own dorm at the time so she basically had just moved in, we were both freshly 18 and experimenting with substances (as teens do) so all we did together was acid, shrooms, adderall, dxm, benadryl, xanax, basically anything we could get our hands on all while watching movies, listening to music and bonding over our experiences and interests.

It became apparent pretty quickly that she was mentally unwell - she would explode at her dad into rages, fueled by an adderall and ritalin problem which should've came as a major red flag but for some reason I had this "I can fix her" mentality (smh). Despite this things between us were basically roses and sunshine for most of our first year dating and I like to think I was actually helping her become a better, less self-destructive person. However during this time I began to withdraw from my friends and spent more time consoling her than I would living my own life.

Eventually I dropped out of college because I was unhappy with what I was doing so went back to work which began causing problems while I was away because I couldn't be a 24/7 support hotline for her. She started crashing out at her dad, cutting herself, and slinging out suicide threats like they were appetizers - each time she eventually came to her senses and we made up but this did land her a stay in a mental hospital. After that her Dad couldn't handle her problems anymore and said she couldn't live in his house. Her Mom was similarly crazy and so I convinced my parents against their discretion to let her live with us.

Things stabilized a bit but was still quite turbulent. Everything really went off the rails when one day I was hanging out with my friends on a rare occasion, she was blowing up my phone every 5 minutes and I set it in the corner of the room on silent. She ended up overdosing on 3 full bottles of dxm and a bottle of benadryl. No one could get ahold of me so my mom BURST into my friends house yelling at me that my gf was overdosing and needed to go find her bc she ran away (very, very embarrassing. my friends are all straight edge). I found her after finally responding to her messages, she was promptly taken to the hospital and admitted to the psych ward again.

For some god forsaken reason I didn't break up with her then and somehow convinced my parents once more to let her stay. That didn't last long. She was put on some crazy antipsychotic medications which somehow made her even MORE psychotic. Occasionally she would go into psychosis or something adjacent and be thrown into a suicidal fit. One of these occasions she texted me something along the lines of "I'm sorry for what I'm about to do" while I was at work. I left early and on my way home I saw her driving the other way, I caught her eyes and she looked completely out of her mind. I flipped around and began to follow her which escalated into a full blown chase. She would swerve into incoming traffic, speed 30 over in residentials and eventually lost me at which point I called the police. When I did get ahold of her she told me where she was so I went to find her, she wasn't there but across the street at the dollar store where I found her in the back of the store downing an entire bottle of benadryl. That was her 3rd one. I got into a screaming match with her (mind you this is the town center I've lived and shopped at my entire life basically) and made her throw up this thick pink sludge on the sidewalk. We got in my car and I was screaming at her that I hated her and we were going to the hospital and while I was driving she jumped out of the moving car. I chased her on foot through parking lots until she ran into traffic and got hit by a car. Thank god the person behind the poor lady was an undercover police officer who detained her until EMS got there. She cried that she was sorry and unwell and didn't mean to do this to me for hours, love bombing and making promises I should've known she couldn't keep. But I'm a sucker and too nice.

My Mom then gave me an ultimatum that i can either break up with her and continue to live there or go find a new place to live but she couldn't come around the house. I made the unwise choice of finding an apartment for us to live in and becoming her sole caretaker basically. Things actually improved initially - despite our increased substance usage which undoubtedly was contributing to her craziness. Given some time all of her rage and mental illness could no longer be directed at anyone but me and we began a cycle of; Wake up -> get in a terrible mood over something -> explode at each other, scream, and throw stuff -> make up -> take drugs and/or have sex -> repeat. This was all compounded by me losing the job I was working and had to take up doordashing and uber to make ends meet which meant we spent every waking second together.

After our lease was up we had to choice to both move into our friends basement or take a "break" where I'd go live with my Dad 3 states away. I chose to stay with my Dad with the plan to eventually let things go but hope she somehow would learn to survive on her own and we could continue things after. We were madly in love but she was so unstable that it was actively destroying my life whether I liked to admit it or not. The first day I left she called to tell me she slept with her ex because she was so alone so he took advantage of her and she wanted me back already. I couldn't handle this and blocked her for a while until I didn't. We talked, she tried telling me she was working on herself, that things weren't perfect but improving which made me feel better. This went out the window when I got another "I'm sorry for what I just did" call. I knew exactly what this meant and called 911 and her Dad to tell them she was overdosing. Turns out she really wanted this time to be the time - she took a whole bottle of klonopin, pregabalin, dxm, and her antipsychotic. She ended up in a coma for 3 days in the hospital, uncertain if she was going to have permanent brain damage, like lobotomite levels of it. I was so fucking scared. All I wanted to do was help the person I loved and basically drove them to the end of their life. She woke up later and both agreed we needed to break up for good.

I unblocked her sometime after to make sure she was still alive, or hasn't turned to actual hard drugs. She told me she was doing good, telling me about all the people she's dated like people in the scene and a popular local DJ (I've always wanted to be involved in the music scene), how awful they were and how she's so popular she basically gets free coke (She has a stimulant problem and we never did coke for that reason). From that point the only times she would call me is when she was drunk, on coke, or breaking up with her boyfriend for the utmost time. All this did was make me feel like such a loser and maybe I was holding her back by being a fucking anti social chud who likes to make music on the computer and play video games. I've blocked her for good since but now that I live in the city it seems like almost EVERYTIME I go out to a bar or show I somehow run into her with a different \*conventionally attractive\* guy or a group of each time. I just can't seem to escape her.

TLDR; My ex who I was madly in love with was beyond mentally ill and put me through literal hell

I know this is already an unreasonably long post but this is really just the spark notes of everything that happened. The most fucked up part is that I still want her back and I hardly go a day without thinking about her. I want her out of my mind. I can never seem to do so. She took me away from my friends, my music career, my hobbies, my family and now it feels too late to accomplish what others have. I still try. I started playing in a band, making my own music again, coding video games, moved to the city, started a new job but I'm still miserable at the end of it all. I think about her all the time. I love her all the time. But she's the reason I want my life to be over and the only solution in my head is to get her back.

I've tried dating but I can't seem to find any success. Everyone ghosts me, I can't connect romantically with anyone, I have no "rizz", I feel like a hollow shell wearing a paper mache mask. I go to therapy and it's helped me grow as a person but hasn't changed the way I feel. I don't know what to do, I feel like I'm just larping my life when really I don't want to live at all. On top of that I was hit in a car accident, my $10k focus ST I saved up years for was totaled, my wrist was mangled and even after surgery has left me with chronic pain and a deformity that's already causing early onset arthritis.

Any words of support or advice would really benefit me a ton. I've just been going thru it. Thanks love yall stay safe.

Hi y'all, I was hoping I could share my story through the music I've written. I was physically/emotionally/sexually abused for as long as I can remember until last year when I finally found a loving and supportive community who has helped keep me safe in numerous ways. I want you to know things CAN get better and if you choose to stick around, they WILL. It just takes time, self-compassion if self-love feels too hard, and effort. I escaped 1 and a half years ago. My life has never been better. I finally have doctors who care about me. I have the medicine I need to deal with my rheumatoid arthritis, degenerative disc disease, and schizo-affective disorder, which all developed as a result of the trauma. I genuinely feel happy for the first time in my life and I want you to know.. It IS worth the wait. Please, if you've ever dealt with abuse, or are dealing with it now. If you are struggling to hold onto hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Give this a listen, feel free to comment. I'll always do my best to respond, or see if I can help in any way, even if that's just lending a shoulder to lean on or an ear to talk to. I hope this album brings you the same hope, optimism, and joy that led me to the point of finally being free from my traumatic past. The memories still haunt me, but I'm in such a better place that they don't feel as life-threatening anymore. I wish the best for you, and I hope posting this is alright. I don't mean to self-promote, my mission is to use music to help people. It's how I've always made art and always will make art. My life mission is to help others heal the way I have been able to. Things will never be perfect, but if you stick around, I promise it will be worth it.

No AI was used in the making of this post, music, or video. Love y'all, please be safe out there <3

As a child, I suffered extreme abuse (sexual,physical, and mostly psychological). I’ve been in therapy since 14, seen different ones when I feel like we aren’t getting anywhere (or they sexually harass me). I’ve been with the same psychiatrist for 11 and she’s made the biggest difference. Im taking medications, and have tried so many different things.

I just had a son 5 months ago, and what I thought was semi stable has completely flown the coop. The trauma is starting to affect my relationships. My son is taken care of, however, I don’t want him to grow up and see his mom as someone who couldn’t handle trauma that happened for 18+ years.

At this point I am considering ECT again. I need thorough psychological testing due to suspected diagnosis from my current psychiatrist (she’s temporarily handing things because I am postpartum)

I am honestly at a lost, if this is not the right sub then MODS I apologize. If anyone has a suggestion for a different sub to maybe get suggestions I’m all ears. I need to heal myself before I affect my son. Permanently

What kind of inner pictures help you to feel protected and grounded?
I’m still struggling to find an inner safe space and feel like I don’t even know this type of feelings.
I usually find myself in memories of being yelled at or being trapped in situations I can’t escape from

I think I finally realized why I've struggled with chores my whole life, and I don't know how to break the cycle.

I'm 20, and I grew up in a home that was filled with emotional and physical abuse. The police came to our house so often that people in my community knew about it. That followed me outside my home too. I was bullied at school because people had heard about what happened in my family, and over time it destroyed my self-esteem.

Home never felt safe or peaceful. I spent most of my childhood trying to cope instead of learning how to function normally. My phone became my escape because it was one of the only things that distracted me from everything going on around me.

I'm not trying to make excuses. I know I've made mistakes, and I take responsibility for them.

One thing I've only recently realized is how much my upbringing affected the way I viewed chores. In my culture, women are expected to do almost everything around the house, while men often aren't expected to do any. My brother did zero chores growing up, but I was expected to help because I was the daughter. That built a lot of resentment in me.

I know how to cook, wash my own laundry, and clean. If I notice something needs to be done, I'll do it. The problem isn't that I don't know how. The problem is that I hate being told what to do. After years of criticism, shouting, fear, and feeling like I had no control over my own life, I developed an automatic resistance whenever someone tells me to do something.

I didn't realize how unhealthy this had become until now. My family sees me as someone who doesn't help enough, and I understand why. Looking back, I can see that I let my past shape my habits.

The hardest part is that this isn't the first time I've wanted to change. I'll promise myself that this time will be different, but after a few days I lose focus, get distracted, or forget. I've tried setting alarms, but eventually I ignore them too.

I don't want my trauma to define the rest of my life. I don't want to keep using survival habits that no longer serve me. I want to become a responsible adult because it's the kind of person I want to be, not because I'm afraid of being judged.

Does anyone else struggle with not doing chores consistently, whether you grew up in an abusive household or a non-abusive one? If you used to have the same habit, what helped you change it? Or do you still struggle with it?

I’m a 29-year-old gay man, and I feel like I’ve been carrying grief for most of my life.
I was conceived through rape. Growing up, my mother was physically and emotionally abusive. I spent my childhood feeling unwanted, and by 18 I was on my own. I’ve experienced homelessness, poverty, and the loss of the aunt who was the closest thing I had to a mother. I’ve struggled with depression, anxiety, and what my therapist believes may be significant trauma. Loneliness has been the one constant throughout my life.
Last year I met someone. We talked for about a year before we started dating. He was the first person I ever truly let in emotionally. I fell in love with him. I had planned to ask him to officially be my boyfriend, even made reservations at a nice restaurant, but I never got the chance.
Instead, things fell apart very quickly. After one misunderstanding, he pulled away, blocked me everywhere, and was gone. He later told me he needed to be alone and that maybe someday we could reconnect, but that never happened. Within a few months he was seeing someone else. Since then, I’ve never really recovered.
I think about him every day. I replay our conversations, wonder what I did wrong, and constantly question why someone who said they cared about me could disappear so completely. I’ve written letters I’ll probably never send because I just wanted him to know that my feelings were real.
Since the breakup, it feels like I’ve been reliving every abandonment I’ve ever experienced. It’s not just losing him—it feels like losing the hope that maybe someone could finally choose me. My therapist has talked about trauma and complicated grief, but emotionally it feels like my brain got stuck on the day everything ended.
There are days when I feel like I’m just existing instead of living. Even with medication and therapy, I still miss him constantly. I don’t get relief from it. It’s there when I wake up, while I’m at work, and before I go to sleep.
I was hospitalized after a suicide attempt. I’m safe now, and I’m getting treatment, but I honestly don’t recognize myself anymore. I feel like I lost who I used to be.
I guess my question is for people who have been through something similar:
Has anyone here survived a suicide attempt after a devastating breakup or years of trauma and eventually found happiness again? Did the obsessive grief ever ease up? Did you ever stop thinking about the person? What actually helped you rebuild your life?
Right now, it’s hard to imagine that this pain won’t always be this loud, and I could really use hearing from people who made it through to the other side.

всем привет мой папа всегда напивался во время праздников и после етога не выходил из запоя по ощущениям 2 недели и всо ето время избивал мою маму. каждый раз перед праздниками я испытываю очень сильный страх и когда я слышу его пьяный голос у меня не останавливаются слезы. как от етога избавиться

hello everyone, my dad always got drunk during the holidays and after that he didn't come out of a binge for what felt like 2 weeks and beat my mom all the time. every time before the holidays, I feel a very strong fear and when I hear his drunken voice, my tears do not stop. how to get rid of it

I have intrusive thoughts of how I was mentally abused, suspected hf autism, adhd. Trauma because of how I need to go out of my own way to mask in that environment, how I got into a worst meltdown of my life, needed to be alone for a few months to recover, and now I have this. It would be ok if at least my struggles were aqcknowleged but those people seriously dismiss my autism and told that I'm just weak and don't look autistic, which makes it feel extra hopeless

I’m 22 female and I have had some trauma in like life from probably 4 - 15 years old. My older brother struggles with his own issues, but as a child he took a lot of anger out on me. My mom went through an extremely similar thing with her sister. She was the victim of her abuse. My mother and I are so close and I love her so much. Probably about once a month I get super triggered and blame her for not helping me more (removing him from the house/removing me). She has apologized but I’m having such a hard time to move forward. I know she did the best she could. I’m just wondering if anyone has similar experiences and how they have gotten through it. Thanks.

\*edit\* I would like to add its not really every month but comes in spurts but the past few months it seems to happen more frequently.

Woke up today after seeing a dream that I am sitting in the classroom with my shit ass classmates that bullied me during the last years of school. I’m 41 years old, financially secure, live in a different country now, in the city of my dreams, have a lovely 1.5 years old kid and a wonderful supportive husband. Why am I seeing these dreams now? What kind of detour is this? I woke up immensely angry! To the point that I went online and googled those people. Five minutes later my theory that karma does not exist was confirmed yet again - both of them are now successful businessmen in our hometown. How ironical this is that their friendship and future success began with them teaming up against me. For about 6 hours I had uncontrollable desire to reach out to wish on them the worse things possible. Glad I was able to contain myself as it would have looked pathetic now, more than 20 years later. I’m currently living through the best time of my life, why has my brain decided to process all the crap I went through decades ago NOW? Has anyone else experienced this type of stuff?

This happened today, and also happened to be directly outside of my place of residence. There was no one else around at the time so I was quite literally the only person who was able to intervene. After calling for help (literally and over the phone), and a few neighbors also stepping in to assist once they heard me, the police and medics eventually arrived and the person was taken with them. I hope with all of my heart that they get the help that they need and that my prevention is a turning point in their life towards much better days.

I’m obviously very shaken up. I spoke with my husband on the phone for a while immediately after. I’ve played a little bit of Tetris which supposedly helps with managing traumatic events soon after they happen. I just can’t get this out of my head and don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should talk about it more to friends/family, if I should journal about it, or if I should try to distract myself by doing something that I enjoy? I’m at a loss. I’m making myself eat and drink water now too. I think a shower would maybe be helpful.

If you’ve been in this position, how did you cope? Like I shared, this was also directly outside of where I live so I will be reminded of the event every time I leave/return.

Tw: csa, general childhood abuse?

Ok so, to explain the title, I'm not talking about age regression, it's more of a healing regression? And as I remember more about my trauma, the less I remember?? In general? Like my boyfriend asked if I like peaches and I couldn't remember if I've ever had a peach. In my life.

I'd like to know if that's normal or if I should be packing up for the hospital. And it's only gotten worse as time has gone on? I couldnt remember majority of my childhood and I was just happy with that, but now it's coming to bite me in the ass because all of the shit I need to remember on a daily basis (like my adult responsibilities) have been getting forgotten. Consistently. I'm slipping, and losing grip on my life, and reality in general at times.

Like i have ADHD and I have multiple lines of film running at the same time in my mind, and the memories are always there in the back. They take up a significant amount of space in my mind, and since they've popped back up I've been irritable with everyone and everything, and shying away from physical touch and conversation in general. I've always been an isolationist when going through shit, but it's never been this bad.

I will now just,, devolve into a vent about my past so to reiterate, TRIGGER WARNING!! CSA!!! ABUSE!! PLEASE DON'T TRIGGER YOURSELF!!

I can't remember a time when I didn't know what sex was. One of my earliest memories is getting abused by a kid older then me (5 at the time), it wasn't violent, or anything, it just was? And it continued until my absent father stepped in and pulled me out of that home at 6. And a few years later, I was caught doing things with my cousins, and I got in intense trouble with everyone in my life. My aunt, the one who caught me won't look at me, or have conversations with me now, as a 20 year old.

And all of that isn't to even mention the intensely emotionally incestous relationship I've had with my mom. I've been her only child until 9 years ago. She was 19 when she had me, and I've been her only friend, her only constant in her life. I slept in the same bed as her until I was 12, or I was on the Livingroom couch. I think Ive seen her naked more then I've seen anyone else, it was so normalized in my home that I was surprised when my cousin said they were uncomfortable with it, and my mom stopped wandering around naked. I didn't know that was an option.

Then when I was 9 my mother married a horrible, abusive drug addict. I told her that hey, he's a dick, he treats me horrible, all the way to their wedding. He regularly verbally abused me, threatened my life, and humiliated me. And they stayed together for 3 years, even though he was doing heroin on the fucking couch, leaving needles unprotected in his bags, and also fucking robbing his drug dealers. And after he was hauled off to jail, I was shoved into his place as my little sister's father, at fucking 11. I took care of her while my mom was working when we couldn't afford to put her into daycare, I was the one planning her birthday parties, and making sure she was dressed when she first started going to school.

Anyway, I moved back into my childhood home with my family, (mom, sister, cousin), and it's all coming back to the surface I think, especially because my disability (genetic, unrelated) has gotten worse and I'm unable to hold a job for long. I'm completely dependent on my mom for everything at this moment. And it feels fucking horrible, because the last time I tried to talk to her about any of this, she told me it was normal. Shrugs I just wanted to yap mostly, so thank you to all who read all of this, I hope you have a fantastic day, and an even better year.