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Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Yeah true @Bree-RO It's also about the journey. I hope things end up how I picture them
//You can stay afraid, or slit the throat of fear and be brave//

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

**warning this is kinda intense and my trigger some people** - please edit if any of it does not meet guidelines @Bree-RO-

 

Let's call her Lucy...

 

Hey, it's me...Lucy. I want to tell you about..well..me. But more specifically what keeps happening to me. Have you ever been caught in a trance? Like - you are so focused on something in your mind that you can't see what's really happening in front of you? I want you to imagine that you're caught in a trance right now. You can't see in front of you. Everything is a blur to your real eyes. Images and movements pass you by but you don't acknowledge them. You can't. You can't because your mind is somewhere else..a whole different world that wants to stop you constantly. You’re driving down the road and you begin to have a conversation with yourself about an imaginary conversation with a past teacher from high school. You’re four years out of high school but this person loves to catch you in a trance and you want to be in this trance. Or maybe you don't. You’re unsure..because during the conversation you're bawling your eyes out. You’re telling your teacher about the fights at home..the yelling and arguing between mum and dad..the screaming from your disabled sister..the arguments about how to look after her. You look into your teachers eyes and tell him about mum threatening to leave home all the time...how she hates your father. You tell your teacher but then you can't look him in the eye, about the time the window got smashed because they threw a milk bottle at each other. And you don't want to tell him about the time you cried yourself to sleep and tried to block your ears ..... You want it to stop. You look at the floor and the teacher is sitting across from you. You tell him about the time dad threw your blankets out into the mud and rain on Christmas morning and yelled at you to cook Christmas lunch...... You're afraid to tell your teacher that there is now a crack in the middle of your bedroom door that you cover up with a poster.. ...And  that your father hurt you. ..alot... You’re crying again. You want to tell him how scared you were the other day when your father made you climb up omto the roof in the pooring rain while it was thunder and lightning to clean leaves out of the gutter because water was leaking into the living room. You want to tell your teacher how you begged your father not to make you do it but he made you because if you didn't you would be grounded and get yelled at. You're in the room telling your teacher but your mind is in your bedroom. You've taken the door handle off the inside so your father can't open the door and you listen to him screaming at you and banging the door..telling you how angry he is at you and how you're lazy and a free loader. You stop talking. You can't look at your teacher. You’re shaking. You’re afraid to tell him about your boyfriend at school who is pressuring you into having sex and the teacher who yelled at you for failing a pop quiz in class..you were the only one to fail. She singled you out and told you that she only wants committed people in her class. Stop. Suddenly you're back in your car driving into the curb of the street you live on. You wipe your eyes and sit in your car for five minutes. You don't want to go into the house and let your housemates see that you have been crying. And you ask yourself why you had that conversation with yourself? Why did you go through the imagination of telling your past high school teacher any of this in the car? You don't go to school anymore. You don't even see this teacher. You don't live with your father..the relationship is better between you now....

 

Because my name is Lucy and these are the things I wish I told my teacher when I was sitting on that little couch in the wellbeing office in year 12. But I couldn't tell him. I was afraid to speak. I said I couldn't eat and felt sick all the time and that I was stressed with exams coming up. He told you about confidentiality and you were scared you would get your parents into trouble. You imagined the yelling from your father and you convinced yourself that things at home were okay... I was just a disobedient child. It was my fault. 

 

I keep asking myself why I didn't tell him..my teacher. I wish he knew. I wish things had changed then. It's taken so long and these things keep haunting me. I want to move on but I can't stop crying sometimes and I get horrible pangs in my gut about things that have happened. I get lost in this trance where I talk to my old teacher about things that are happening and i try to justify my decisions to him. I make up conversations where he asks me how I am going and I tell him everything that is going on. I don't know why I do this. I try to forget him and then it turns into a other inagined conversation but with a past counsellor. I don't know why I do this. I just don't know. 

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Sorry - I just really felt like getting that out. 

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Hey @mspaceK don't be sorry at all thank you so much for sharing, and thanks heaps for the TW. I did a small edit, being mindful of other members of the community around specific methods of abuse, but I think it is incredibly important you share your story so very minor edits.

 

That's a lot to have happened in a young person's life, and a lot of weight on the back of your shoulders from the past.. I am assuming this is your story? I again want to thank you so much for sharing this with everyone. Do you need any further support around this, a webchat or phone call with a helpline? I think you are such an amazing human coming out the other side of this, it's okay to cry about our past sometimes, I just want to acknowledge the long distance you've come from that trauma, and the well-rounded individual you've blossomed into - well done. We're all here for you Heart

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Yeah it's a true story Smiley Sad thanks. Sometimes I'm okay and sometimes I'm not. I don't know whether I should contact a helpline about it :/ @Bree-RO

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

@mspaceK Thanks for sharing that story I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that Smiley Sad

Is contacting a helpline something that you think would help you? Smiley Happy

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

hey @May_. I have in the past and I do pretty regularly. I'm trying not to be so dependent on them because I want to learn to get past all this and self-manage. But I do contact them when I feel like I really need to. I don't know if I should talk about this past stuff though :/ 

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

@mspaceK have you ever spoken about this stuff before with them?

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Yes. I have and that's what helped me sort of get through everything to where I am now @May_. But it all still gets to me. I can't stand sudden loud noises or confrontations with people or upsetting people because I have this ingrained reaction to close up or I'm afraid that I'm going to get hurt. The thought of someone being disappointed in me is near unbearable because I feel like an absolute failure. It can be something so small, simple mistake or whatever and I get lost in this pit of self-loathing. It's so hard to remember that I'm only human and it's okay to not make everyone happy. I don't know but the hardest thing is feeling so alone even when I'm with people. :/ but it's wierd. Some days I feel absolutely amazing and I am loving life... the next minute it's like the opposite nearly. Anyway .. 

Re: Narratives as an Outlet

Hey @mspaceK I'm glad you're doing a fair bit better now. I get the sense that these difficulties like feeling alone can be quite upsetting for you Smiley Sad self-loathing can be a tricky beast to wrestle with as well. Do you have any strategies to help you with that?

// Spiral outward, keep going. //