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A Life of Trauma

"You've had everything you've ever wanted." Materialistic, yes. Mentally, no.

By Brittany StanleyPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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I was always known as the "hard child." Wouldn't sleep, always misbehaving, skipping school, I had all these "problems" but no one ever thought about getting me the help I needed.

What did I need? I needed someone to sit down with me, try to understand my own mind. I was a small unhappy child and now? I'm an unhappy adult who's small minded. Literally. My mind still works as a three year old on some occasions.

My mother never showered me with love, gifts, never love. Never had a cuddle and a kiss or a "goodnight I love you." As for my father? He left before I could even talk.

I live with PTSD and a personality disorder. PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Dealing with that is hard enough but dealing with a personality disorder on top? It's even worse. Now I don't mean to make anyone feel guilt. I'm merely here to just share my story.

I was never the "best looking" girl ever. I mean what even defines "good looking," we all have different preferences. But, in this case, in school I was bullied. Slightly overweight (baby fat) long brown hair that was scraped back tightly into a ponytail and very prominent ears I was an easy target. "Dumbo, big ears." Eh, whatever, I wouldn't let it show how affected I was, until I got home and I'd get the exact same insults off my brother and sister. I'd be the best behaved child, quiet, you'd forget I was there... until my sister would come and wind me up, kicking my Barbie dolls over, messing everything up, teasing me. My mum would never do anything. "Leave her alone," she'd say to my sister, like that ever stopped her. Then I'd retaliate, that's when I'd get screamed at, "ADHD kicking in," my mum would taunt, winding her fingers around her head, signaling I was going crazy. I had no escape, even my best friend used to make fun of me and beat me up occasionally but I'd still forgive her.

I had this for the majority of my life, but there was one thing my family didn't know, a secret I wouldn't share. A family member, my grandad was abusing my trust, damaging me. He was sexually abusing me.

This matter is now with the police and I'm not going to discuss it much more into detail but this is what the root of all my problems were. I wasn't being shown love and support at home whilst someone who was meant to love me was abusing me further than imaginable. I was a child. No younger than 3 or older than 6. And to suffer such abuse physically and emotionally, affected me socially, but much more deeper mentally.

My brain doesn't work like everyone else's. Most of the people I was in school with worry about what they're going to wear on the weekend or how tired they will be as they study at college or university but me? I've got to worry about the court date that's quickly approaching. I've got to worry about how I'm going to keep my house and keep myself fed on the little money I get. I have no one to help. My family all disowned me when I came out about my grandad. Even though my psychiatrist has told them the effects of what's happened and how this has affected me.

I thought I finally had support off my family but then I was called a liar, even though I recorded my grandad admitting everything. I was called a prostitute and how I "sold my body" to him at the age of 9.

It's hard, I worry about all these things older people worry about yet, in my mind I struggle with a personality of a three year old that still plays with toys, an effect of what he did to me. Because I was so young, that childlike self still lives inside my head, she was hurt and now she can't grow up. Imagine, a three year old having to deal with rent, and bills, and cooking their own meals. That's what I have to do. I have all these problems to face and I can face them when my head is quiet but if the personalities comes out who knows what I have to deal with. It's not just a younger version I have to deal with. There's multiples and I've named them, as they are a part of me.

Phil- The overprotective fatherly figure that is harsh with words and has an angry streak but only when pushed.

Donna- The calm nurturing older woman who would symbol a lovely grandmother.

Younger me- Never got to grow up and now lives as a personality who still plays with toys.

Cleo- Let's just say she reminds me of the friend that used to beat me up and comes out occasionally but not often to make me jealous.

Arthur- Very self destructive. Taunts and annoys until I snap. Manipulative. Making me believe everything is my fault, when in reality he's only there because of all the hurt I've gone through.

There's others of course but those are the main ones I have funny ones like Sarrcy Stewart who's my funnier and happy side, very sarcastic but there's my destructive sides too.

My story is there for people to read, people like me who have had hard lives but remember no matter what the struggle. Be your own best friend. Go through life making yourself and other happy and just because you've had a bad start to life you can always change your course and become something better.

trauma
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