My Story, Continued…
In fact, it was listed as the worst to have. Secondly, I stayed away from others and treated them badly. I have no answer as to why. I was to blame, that much I knew, no matter how much I blamed them. An important relationship of 12 years ended just as COVID-19 began, and soon after, my relationship with my son also deteriorated. I regret the harsh words I sent them through messages. I regret not thinking for a moment what else might be going on for them during my tirades. When relationships ended, I reacted poorly, not understanding why. I was out of balance and needed to practice mindfulness, particularly active listening. I just didn’t know it.
Left Out and Isolated: Not my First Rodeo
When I was eight, my sister Sheila was kidnapped, and when her body washed up six months later, it was clear she had been murdered. This traumatic event deeply affected our family, but no one ever talked to me about it. I was isolated and unattended to, learning about what happened mostly from the news. During the pandemic, this feeling of isolation from truth returned below the level of my conscious awareness. The “truth” was that I knew I would be left out. I became extra alert to any sign of rejection, unaware of how unappealing this was. After a relationship ended, I would send angry messages, reacting as if I were still that confused eight-year-old. I was later diagnosed with Complex PTSD (C-PTSD), a type of PTSD that can happen when children experience prolonged and unaddressed trauma. As kids, we don’t know how to process horror and uncertainty, so the traumatic memories end up filed away in incorrect “filing cabinets” in long-forgotten storage rooms. The doors to the rooms and drawers to the filing cabinets fling open when triggered in the now, which left me reacting to current events as if I were reliving my childhood trauma. I had no idea. I was all fear.
