Catharsis

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by IHaveVertigo

Scraps

First in pool

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6 in pool

Last in pool

Just gonna lay some stuff out, mainly for my own sanity as I finally begin to make some progress in therapy dealing with my trauma and past abuses. Read at your own risk, trigger warnings notwithstanding. Probably not going to make much sense but my brain is absolute mush right now.

"Are you taking your meds?"

Every point of contention I ever had was met with this statement. My trust raped once again. Why are you so upset? You must not be taking your medication. Take me to the psychiatrist once and expect an endless supply of happy pills to keep your victim nice and robotic. At least now I understand why I get so upset when plans change suddenly, or promises are broken. It's a trigger.

My father is an abuser. He likes to hurt people for his amusement. The thing that always pokes out to me is how he used to make my sister and I fight. With fists. Until one of us was on the floor crying. That at least finally stopped when the police were called once. After that it was mainly regulated to neglect and mental violence. Cut to years upon years of anger issues.

I always think what would have happened if I had been able to speak up then. Would it have prevented all of this? My incessant people-pleasing? Flunking school, forced to home school with the man who personified all of my anxieties? My stepmother's molestation? The hospital stays? The gaslighting? The endless compromising with my abusers? The pills?

So many years felt wasted. Casting aside interests trying to make this person happy in spite of my own. Thinking there was something wrong with me when it was just him. It was always him.

To this day I'm terrified of making people angry because of him. When people get upset I legitimately have an anxiety attack.

I finally stopped taking ssri's about a year and a half ago, around the same time I decided I don't need to try and keep any form of connection with my father. Sometimes it's better to burn a bridge then leave it rotting. Especially when one side has shown time and again they will never, ever change. Regardless of who dies, be that my grandfather or his own brother. With the root of the problem gone, I finally found there's no need to treat it and finally heal.

Obviously there's a part that mourns what could have been. There's flickers. Watching movies together. Playing basketball. But for every slightly good memory there's 10 terrible ones. Berated for the way I walk. Told my asthma was fake, and I didn't need my life-saving inhaler (funny coming from a guy who spent his childhood in an oxygen tent.) Denying my sensory disorders. What he's done to my sisters. So in all honesty, there's not much love lost.

Okay, just needed to get that off my chest. Hopefully I can finally move forward instead of wallowing in the past. If you've read this far, thank you for listening and I appreciate you.

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