Broken Normal Meter, Not a Broken Soul

As I’m gaining progress (at least I think I am) with dealing with the rape in an effective-ish manner, there seems to be a lot more shit coming up.  It’s like I focused so hard on keeping this all locked down tight by refusing to think about it, shoving it to the deepest recesses of my mind and pretending it never happened, that as soon as I opened the door, everything just decided to come out.

Just.  Fucking.  Hell.

I’m getting better at having ‘normal range’ reactions to things that would activate memories that are extremely unpleasant to think about.  They’re still unpleasant and, at the same time, they don’t send me into hysterics like they used to.  So, that’s progress right?

And so, my mind went “Hey, we’re doing good at not freaking out over this one thing, here’s another thing we can freak out over!”  Um… Thanks brain, but that is the opposite of what is helpful right now.  Since, you know, I’m still fucking processing the rape still and I don’t want to deal with my kiddie diddler fucktwat of a father yet.  Dumb fucking brain…

I guess the real reason for this post is because I’ve been having nightmares about it.  Not just one thing, but it feels like it’s all the things.  It all leads down to everyone blaming me and going “that never happened” while these things are happening and my mum looking at me and going “well, you deserved it anyway”.

I’m so angry with her right now.  She was supposed to be protecting me and instead she made me protect her.  What kind of bullshit is that?  Any time I try to bring my feelings up about experiences I’ve had, she turns it around so it focuses on her or tries to make it out that I’m over-reacting.  I’m still upset and have flashbacks from when we were living with my aunt and uncle?  I shouldn’t be because they were trying their best and they didn’t know how to handle Autism like they do now and they were so nice for letting us live with them and I should really just be grateful.  I bring up how unfair it was that she put leaving my dad on my brother and me and she goes “but I wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand”.  What.  The.  Ever.  Loving.  Fuck.

I guess the one good thing about all of these shitty revelations concerning my parents is that it really helps me understand more about my reactions regarding traumatic events or dangerous situations.  And it makes me feel more grounded and whole.  Less dissociated from everything and everyone.  I still doubt myself about a lot of things.  I’m going to have to learn to trust myself because my parents and upbringing totally broke my ‘normal’ meter.  And like the lovely lavendandlevity said to me in a comment, it’s worse in a way for those of us who are not neurotypical since we rely so heavily on others to show us what is and is not okay.  Since, you know, it’s super hard for us to figure it out on our own.

So, yay for broken normal meters. Fuck that noise.  Just.  Fuck.


What I’ve learned in boating school  Exposure Therapy so far is the following:

  • I really really do not like the dark.  The dark is fucking terrifying.
  • I don’t really know what my rapists’ faces look like so meeting strange men freaks me the fuck out.
  • I don’t like being surrounded by people because I don’t know what their intentions are and therefore they are dangerous.  I’m afraid of other people because I’m afraid of getting attacked again, even if situations that are totally safe.
  • I really don’t like remembering unpleasant things to the point where I will go off track when talking about them so I don’t have to deal with it.
  • Running away from bad memories only lets them fester inside.  This is not effective.
  • Refusing to deal with them or accept them makes me feel less connected with my current self and makes me more judgemental and less compassionate towards myself.
  • Holy shit, I was raised in a cult.  Fuck, that means I have to unbrainwash myself.
  • Reality sucks.  Seriously sucks.  But it is also so fucking awesome when I accept reality as it is because I’m more present with the now and less entrenched in keeping myself from remembering my past.
  • ‘It is what is is’ is a very true statement, no matter how infuriatingly repetitive it is.  A pen is a pen.  A memory is a memory.  Pretending something never happened doesn’t make it so.
  • I don’t put as much effort into things as I want to, as I feel I need to, because I’m afraid of drowning in emotions.  I’m afraid of drowning in emotions because I’ve always been told my emotional reactions to things were inappropriate because of gaslighting.  I’m allowed to have my emotions and I don’t have to let my emotions dictate my actions.  I don’t have to let my actions dictate my emotions.  And my emotions are my emotions and no one can tell me that they aren’t.
  • I’m really good at putting puzzles together.  I like learning things.  I like figuring things out.  I like doing puzzles.  I both don’t like putting the puzzle pieces of my life together and I love doing it because it makes sense and makes everything about me fit better.
  • I’m a strong and capable person with plenty of imperfections and that doesn’t make me any less.  I’m brave and courageous because I refuse to back down and hide anymore.
  • Emotions are not the enemy.  The enemy is in rejecting my emotions and therefore myself.
  • I don’t have to understand something to accept it.  I’d like to understand, but it isn’t a necessity.
  • I don’t like being calm and being at ease.  I don’t like letting my guard down because a lot of people have taken advantage of me that way.  Not allowing myself to be calm and at ease in any situation makes me unable to live my life to the fullest.
  • I freeze when I try to talk to people, especially Charon, about the deep shit.  I panic.  I believe it’s partly because I was raised that everything was my fault because I was the family scapegoat.  Still am.  It’s also partly because of the gaslighting and so I doubt myself and I don’t want to bring it up because I don’t want to be accused of lying.  And partly because, especially relating to sexual assault and sexual abuse, I was raised that it’s always on the woman for tempting the man because men obviously have no self control over their sexual impulses and therefore I’m a slut and deserve to be hurt.  (This is not true.  I’m an amazing person and no one deserves to be hurt.)
  • I don’t always feel like I can do this.  That I can deal with all this shit.  I can.  I totes mcgoats am perfectly capable of doing this.  I am doing this.  Go me.

Anyways.  That’s all for now folks.  You have a good one.  I’m off to see if I can’t figure out how to use my printer when I’m out of black ink.

-The Sarcastic Autist


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