Tag: survivor

  • My Problem(s) being an Abuse Victim

    What do I see myself as, A Victim or a Survivor?

    If I go back 4 years;

    I couldn’t be a victim, unless I realised that I was badly treated.

    So I was in denial

    I couldn’t realise the extent of what had happened to me, until I started to say that I was a victim of abuse.

    Because , until then, I was holding onto the responsibility of actions someone else had done to me.

    I was protecting them and fearing them, holding it all in, running from dealing with it.

    Thinking that what happened to me, was what I deserved.

    I was responsible. I was full of shame.

    Thats what emotional abuse is. The ongoing belief that I was responsible, guilty for actions other people had done to me.

    It was my responsibility to soothe them and do what they wanted, or I would be punished.

    But I didn’t know it. I lived in a daze of slavery.

    Compliant and Passive. Loyal and Dead on the inside, and outside.

    It was only when I realised that I was more than ok, that I realised I was being treated badly. It was only when I realised this, that I could stand up for myself, and pass that responsibility onto those whose it was to take.

    In fact on more than one occasion one of the accusations levelled at me, shouted drunk, by my abuser was ‘Dont you starting thinking of yourself as the victim’ …. So… I was projected and abused into not being able to see that I was being abused.

    I had to realise that those who had played victim – so that I took responsibility for their feelings, weren’t actually the real victim.

    Not that I am utterly blameless, this isn’t the point.

    In understanding what had happened to me, and the safe space to do it – was the moment that I realised, gradually and slowly that I had been a victim of domestic abuse.

    I started to see the patterns, I started to read the books, I started to assess how I was being treated, used and lied to.

    So I was a victim.

    But I didnt know it.

    And I was reluctant to own it. I didnt want to be known as a victim. Even if I did start to realise what had happened to me.

    And yet at the same time, almost at exactly the same time, because I didnt realise that I had been a victim of this for 40 years, and I was in a safe place from virtually the time I realised. I considered myself a survivor too.

    I was a victim, it was the past tense. At that moment. It had happened.

    In the current moment of knowing, and acknowledging the past pain – the present moment I could say that I wasn’t currently a victim either. It had happened.

    Why would I want to keep playing the victim card? Thats what I’ve seen all my life- to abuse me. Why would I want to abuse myself in the same way – or bring out that same needy ‘poor me’ personality. No – why would I do that? I write my story for awareness. I know my story isnt unique. Well not quite at times. I dont want to dwell in a victim mindset.

    But it was important for me to realise that I had been a victim. That I had been treated, or allowed myself to be treated badly, from a deep core of trauma, shame, codependency and people pleasing – and hiding all this, and it not being safe to deal with it.

    So.. I was a victim. But I wasnt too. ,

    Would I say I was a survivor? Is that appropriate?

    Maybe. Maybe not.

    Have I survived? Currently yes – though some weeks, this week especially has been pretty dark. Surviving is what I had to do, throughout the time of the abuse. My internal voice that constantly said ‘I am going to get through this’..

    I dont like the thought that I am still surviving. Though I did survive. Many others dont. So I am grateful, eternally grateful to be here and alive. I wasnt close to jumping off the cliffs of Roker , when my therapist asked about my mental health. I was determined to grow, to dig deep and wrestle with myself and what I needed to do, for myself. I knew I was ok. I was probably more than that. But I had also survived the worst of it.

    In the present moment; I did survive. I wasnt a victim.

    Affected by decades of emotional and psychological abuse. Yes.

    Realising and attending to myself in the process of loving myself to be me. Yes

    Choosing the slow road, the self-kind road and trying to listen to my inner childhood voice. Yes

    It feels like a choice I make every day. A powerful choice to regard myself highly.

    Am I a survivor – yes then. But what would I rather be?

    I would rather be me.

    I would rather not be defined by what someone else did to me.

    I would rather not have them centred in my story.

    I am me – I am James – I am who I am.

    I am living and alive, love and loved, present and the future.

    I dont want to be a victim, I dont want their curse to stay on me.

    I am rebuilding , I am becoming a truer version of me

    I just am me.

    Just like you are you.

    This piece was inspired by Dr Glenns one – do read it here in it he says:

    In my experience as a trauma therapist, that’s just now how trauma recovery unfolds in the real world.

    In the real world, we ONLY recover WHEN we take responsibility for our happiness and stability— and part of taking REALISTIC responsibility means acknowledging our pain.

    It is not reality to pretend we are responsible for our post traumatic pain.

    It is not reality to “accept responsibility” for injuries that resulted from other peoples’ decisions and behavior.

    It is not reality to deny the fact that we are in pain, and there are layers to our pain that we do not control and can not reliably affect.

    It IS reality to see what we see and know what we know about our past and our present functioning— that there were aspects of our past that were painful and terrifying, and there are aspects of our current functioning that aren’t great as a result.

    None of that is “victim mindset.” It is reality mindset.”

    Dr Glenn Patrick Doyle
  • Walking the slow path of Freedom

    ‘We’re free from the death camps – but we must also be free to – free to create, to make a life, to choose. And until we find our freedom to, we’re just spinning around in the same endless darkness’

    Edith Eğer ( The Choice)

    I get this.

    Time plays havoc on the possibility of something new

    Moreover, accurately, trauma plays havoc with time.

    Its like it wants to pull you back to that thing – because in the present there’s a reminder of it, sometimes this is certain, other times is unintentional. It was almost likely that I would find something resonating in Ediths book about surviving a death camp, but in a way I was ready for it.

    Other times the moment hits you when you least expect it.

    I think thats why when I write about my life, and write blogs theres not always a simple thread. Some im revealing the hurts, some I’m revealing myself, some are about the process of rebuilding, some are about the methods, some are about a future as yet unknown, full of possibility.

    Sometimes its about realising that I have a choice to, a choice to spin in there endless darkness – and how does that balance with writing about a story, reflecting and learning so that it might do the same for others?

    But what about freedom?

    What freedom is there, after trauma?

    Well, there is every freedom, isnt there? Maybe theres even more on days when we feel like we’ve conquered monsters – revealed them – on other days its feels like a fog in which the future that has never been certain, still is.

    What about the freedom to choose to forgive?

    The freedom to choose to share our story?

    The freedom to live, in a quiet place and be away from everyone?

    The freedom to hide?

    The freedom to choose to do life in the way we want to? Given the contrast between the abusive control that had held it so far?

    The freedom to choose not to fix someone else – instead of focussing on myself

    The freedom to feel my own emotions

    The freedom to not people please

    The freedom to walk out the door

    The freedom to have a safe house

    The freedom to construct boundaries

    The freedom to be able to make decisions

    The freedom to not know

    The freedom to be the didn’t think it was possible me

    The freedom to choose

    The freedom to smile

    The freedom to have fun

    The freedom to rediscover myself

    The freedom to see the spinning, and step off the roller coaster

    and as Edith says:

    The freedom to have life

    for the first time

    Maybe theres no point being free, if you don’t know what to do with it – the temptation as Edith shares is that for so many freedom is terrifying and it was easier for some prisoners of war to stay within the prison walls, those who want to keep you captive make it so hard for you to want to experience freedom, or to have the confidence or self belief too.

    Edith also writes ; ‘When you have something to prove, you aren’t free’

    let that sink in a moment…

    And thats it isnt it, in places of abuse and torture , you dont know where you stand, playing guessing games on a hot bed of eggshells, always trying to prove, please, or appease.

    I spent far too long in my life trying to meet invisible expectations to people who were never satisfied, grateful or happy… or staying in situations of abuse just to prove them wrong. How shit is that? But that was my first 40 years of life.

    So, once we feel the freedom, of the breeze on our faces, the water on our feet, the freedom to start again, the freedom that feels light and fun, even to choose how to spend the small amounts of money that we might be left with, its still freedom.. its about continuing to walk in the direction of freedom, in the direction of opportunity, in the direction of life.