A Bit Fucked

Today has been a bit fucked. I had to tell Brooklyn my support worker at BWSS about that unpleasant phone call with the RCMP last Sunday. She was really good at getting me to take a break and do grounding exercises when I needed it. I still had to take an Ativan at the end of it all so I could focus on driving, but she really helped me.

I then went to The VAG and took in one of their guided tours. It was incredible. I learned so much. On the way to the pool however I started mulling over trauma and why I'm so fucked right now with my flight response being so easy to trigger. It never used to be this bad. But then I remembered my childhood and how my fight response was triggered on a very regular basis.

My parents hit me alot. Of course they called it spanking, but it was done almost daily and for every little reason. If i said "no" I was spanked hard until I cried. If I didn't "obey at first command" I was spanked hard until I cried. They said it was out of love. When I defied their reasoning and contradicted their beliefs I was spanked hard until I cried. They said it was necessary to produce tears because it meant that I was being humbled. More like being dehumanized. It's no wonder I've never felt human. My dignity, humanity and physical autonomy was stripped from me since early childhood. My parents said that they were exercising the will of God. How can a child argue against the "will of God?"

When they would grab me, rip my pants off and strike me with a ruler, or stick or whatever they could find, my fight response would kick in. That just made it worse. The more I fought, the harder they hit me and more strikes I'd be forced to endure. They spanked that fight response right out of me. By the time I was 12 all that was left was flight and freeze.

The worst part was when they would insist on hugging me after. I didn't want to be hugged. Their hug was a lie. I was being told that they had to do this because they loved me. I'm sure at the time they truly believed it.

I forgive them and my mom has apologized more times than necessary, but the trauma remains in my body. The trauma that when triggered tells me that the only way to not have to feel like this again is to die.

You know about all the sexual assaults, but there's so much more assault that I've endured through my childhood. Spiritually I've let it go but physically I haven't yet and I wish I could otherwise I'm fucked.

If you've ever wondered why I get such bad anxiety around authority figures and why I still feel like a child, now it might make more sense.