Well, it's been a while since I last penned down my thoughts on this blog. Life has taken me on a rollercoaster of self-discovery, shedding light on my past, upbringing, and the silent struggles that have unknowingly accompanied me throughout my life. This realization sparks a reflection on the countless others who might be grappling with their own battles, oblivious to the root causes of their feelings.
I find myself dealing with Complex PTSD, a term that entered my life only upon receiving my diagnosis. While I was familiar with PTSD, the subtleties that distinguish complex PTSD from its simpler counterpart were previously unknown to me.
The "complex" in complex PTSD signifies a recurring cycle of trauma, woven into the fabric of one's existence. It becomes a part of your narrative, shaping various aspects of your life. Unlike PTSD, which often stems from a single impactful event, complex PTSD is intricate and results from repeated experiences.
My journey into understanding these complexities began with my first Hypnotherapy session. At the time, I was living with my mom and son, pursuing Hypnotherapy through Marisa Peer's program. The opportunity for a free session, courtesy of recently graduated students, led me to address the issue of "Procrastination" that had haunted me throughout my life.
During the third memory regression, I found myself a baby in my mother's arms at the hospital, just after being born. The overwhelming feeling of disconnection engulfed me—I was present but unloved, I was overshadowed by my mom's worries about my dad. This revelation remained dormant for years, un-acted upon despite the ongoing struggles and the perpetual sense of disconnection from my mother.
Over the past two years, I've sought understanding through various therapists and psychologists, attempting to unravel the reasons behind my behavior, feelings, and the deep-seated issues within.
In a session with my somatic psychologist, I spontaneously shared my hypnotherapy experience about the disconnection with my mom. Discovering her diaries from the day I was born validated the feelings uncovered in the session. I wasn't what she expected—a 10’11 lbs baby with dark skin and hair, deemed "not cute" in her eyes. My mother had blonde hair, blue eyes, light skin - like my 2 older brothers.
My struggles manifest as attachment cries—severe panic attacks, a profound sense of isolation, and an inability to navigate challenges alone. Shame engulfs me for not meeting societal expectations, making emotional regulation a constant battle. Building and maintaining relationships are daunting tasks, rooted in a fear of judgment that has plagued me since birth.
Despite having an incredibly supportive family as an adult, my body sometimes disconnects from my mind, reverting to states of infancy, childhood, and adolescence. It's a testament to the enduring impact of a tumultuous upbringing, concealed behind a seemingly perfect family facade.
The diagnosis of complex PTSD by my somatic psychologist shed light on the deep-seated issues, emphasizing the time required for healing.
Expressing all this is overwhelming. Grief floods in as I reflect on how my mother couldn't see me as the perfect being she longed for—a result of unmet expectations and a projection of her resentment towards my father onto me.
So here I am, navigating a complex journey of healing, with knowing that the pieces will eventually fall into place.
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