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    Why do I sometime feel like a child stuck inside an adult body ? : how can I overcome such intense feelings of nostalgia?

    Do you also have the feeling that no matter how hard you try, no matter how successful you are, the amount of money you have, good health, therapy...that you will always feel empty, like something is missing ? And that the piece will never be found and that you may just as well give up ?

    Depressions, anxieties, and childhood traumas apart, whatever they are...I feel like there is something I will actually never recover from. It is a certain feeling that is very hard to express with words. I don't think I will be able to talk about it with my psychiatrist, and yet I should try because it causes me so much sadness.

    It is a feeling of extreme nostalgia, I feel like a child that's been put in an adult body with no instruction manual. I can't seem to fonction like people of my age. I don't look and I don't act like people my age. I constantly live in the past, remembering childhood memories every day all day since I've hit my 20's (now 24). Almost like a prison sentence, like the child is still there. I even began to collect objects/toys from my childhood.

    I miss this so bad, I had my environnement, my surroundings, my friends, I just can't seem to let it go...

    The reality of adulthood is shocking to me.

    I constantly feel like each day bring me closer to my end ? I don't my futur past the end of the week. Everything must happen so fast now, and I struggle to keep track, I feel so behind compare to everyone. It's near impossible for me to create any form of relationships. My reality now is dull, boring and lonely. And If even as a grow older, I begin to slowly tick more boxes (good work, good situation, mariage even...), I don't think that I will ever get rid of that feeling, and It will be all just pretending to be "normal".

    I want to thank the few people that might read this. I am also curious to know if this feeling is familiar to some of you.

    #Depression #nostalgia #Childhood #Trauma #Anxiety #MentalHealth #sa

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    #Childhood #Trauma !!!

    Phew! I do not intend to offend anyone, but I believe in the Lord and he is using this TBI recovery time to uproot deep tiers of childhood trauma!!!👍!!!

    Hey, when you can cry about the hell you have walked through that IS a sign of being healed. And I shed a serious amount of tears today! The hardness is melting. A softening is occurring. Emotions ARE supposed to be expressed:

    When happy you smile.
    When hurt you cry.

    Being taught to not cry “or else I’ll give you something to cry about” is abuse, in my opinion. But communication is how you talk the tears away; using caring words and an expressed form of verbal compassion.

    To other adults who have been programmed to absorb abuse, as I was, I invite you to do yourself a favor: cry. It’s okay. ❤️!

    #tears are necessary.
    #Crying brings healing.
    Release the #CPTSD #Trauma .

    Photo credit: dreamstime.com - flowers flourishing as the water drops; showers of water brings growth. And a lack of falling water for all forms of life produces drought stricken dry brittle soil, or as my auto-correct keeps spelling, soul. Get it???

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    #CPTSD Needs your voice.

    It was only in 2018 that I discovered I struggled with CPTSD. Most of my adult life I believed I was reacting to my mother's physical abuse. The idea that childhood emotional neglect is equally--if not more--damaging floored me. Really? Is the thing that I've been fighting my entire adult life actually... invisible?

    I have posted here about finding new language for CPTSD as it is so unrecognized that it's near impossible to talk about. So many other "mental illness" conditions spring from Complex PTSD--often developed from longterm childhood impacts. Traumatologist John Briere suggests, "“If the role of dysfunctional parenting in adult psychological disorders was ever fully recognized as CPTSD, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (used by all mental health professionals) would shrink from a large dictionary to a thin pamphlet.”

    Let that sink in for a minute.

    Some survivors have suggested they would never talk about it--perhaps because it's too painful, that no one understands anyway or that it's private. I urge you to consider this:

    --As a child of the 80s-90s, the LGBTQ community was not largely recognized. Many of these people hid their identities for fear of ridicule, inability for loved ones to understand and accept their reality and the world did not have a language for talking about and recognizing them. We do now.

    --Drug and alcohol abuse is an intensely personal and private journey stemming from issues that are not understandable or visible just by looking at the symptoms of addiction. There is an AA meeting in just about, if not every, city in America. There is community, support and a language for sufferers to gather. We need this.

    --Cancer is a topic we put on stage--in national fundraisers, community and workplace support groups with physical products and symbols we can wear to show support. This is an intensely private journey that, if you do not have it, you may not be able to full understand. And yet people of all walks of life--with or without the illness--talk about it. We need this.

    These are just three examples of how it's possible to turn a neglected, unknown and invisible topic into a world where it's okay to suffer from CPTSD--and still belong, and still feel seen and have the tools to have dialogue that can help you.

    I encourage anyone who is on their journey to discovering, working on and healing from Complex PTSD to use your voice for all of us.

    #ComplexCPTSD #CPTSD #Childhood #Trauma #Childhoodemotionalneglect #CEN #complexposttraumaticstressdisorder

    27 reactions 9 comments
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    #CPTSD Needs your voice.

    It was only in 2018 that I discovered I struggled with CPTSD. Most of my adult life I believed I was reacting to my mother's physical abuse. The idea that childhood emotional neglect is equally--if not more--damaging floored me. Really? Is the thing that I've been fighting my entire adult life actually... invisible?

    I have posted here about finding new language for CPTSD as it is so unrecognized that it's near impossible to talk about. So many other "mental illness" conditions spring from Complex PTSD--often developed from longterm childhood impacts. Traumatologist John Briere suggests, "“If the role of dysfunctional parenting in adult psychological disorders was ever fully recognized as CPTSD, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (used by all mental health professionals) would shrink from a large dictionary to a thin pamphlet.”

    Let that sink in for a minute.

    Some survivors have suggested they would never talk about it--perhaps because it's too painful, that no one understands anyway or that it's private. I urge you to consider this:

    --As a child of the 80s-90s, the LGBTQ community was not largely recognized. Many of these people hid their identities for fear of ridicule, inability for loved ones to understand and accept their reality and the world did not have a language for talking about and recognizing them. We do now.

    --Drug and alcohol abuse is an intensely personal and private journey stemming from issues that are not understandable or visible just by looking at the symptoms of addiction. There is an AA meeting in just about, if not every, city in America. There is community, support and a language for sufferers to gather. We need this.

    --Cancer is a topic we put on stage--in national fundraisers, community and workplace support groups with physical products and symbols we can wear to show support. This is an intensely private journey that, if you do not have it, you may not be able to full understand. And yet people of all walks of life--with or without the illness--talk about it. We need this.

    These are just three examples of how it's possible to turn a neglected, unknown and invisible topic into a world where it's okay to suffer from CPTSD--and still belong, and still feel seen and have the tools to have dialogue that can help you.

    I encourage anyone who is on their journey to discovering, working on and healing from Complex PTSD to use your voice for all of us.

    #ComplexCPTSD #CPTSD #Childhood #Trauma #Childhoodemotionalneglect #CEN #complexposttraumaticstressdisorder

    7 reactions 4 comments
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    You can't forget the past; you are the past.

    Someone in my family told me recently that she doesn't want to dwell on the past--as a way to not so subtly tell me to stop talking about our family dysfunction. In other words, they want to avoid the truth and color it with more dysfunction--this inability to say what it really is, feel how it really does.

    There is a wall between us. The few people in my family that I still speak with think I should not discuss our history and move forward. I am sure that it's not possible to simply unwire the changes in my brain caused by longterm childhood physical abuse and emotional neglect. It's not a "mood" I'm in; it's the mind and body that developed as a result of environmental impact of my home life. This is the skin I'm in for life.

    Instead, I believe we must move through life mindful of what makes us who we are, do our best to adapt, find self-acceptance as much as acceptance from others. It burns me that I can't shed my childhood, but, in truth, can anybody? We are a product of our experiences, like it or not, good or bad. We cannot shut out the past to build anew. It comes with us, inside us.

    Please share your point of view.

    #CPTSD #ComplexPTSD #familydysfunction #emotionalavoidance #CEN

    #Childhoodemotionalneglect

    #Childhood #Trauma

    11 reactions 6 comments
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    Growing up with no sporting skills

    Hi. Growing up I always had problems with my social skills. I only have a few friends (fortunately each of them deeply cared for me and I am grateful for that), and I was really bad at sports. Coming from a culture, where boys are expected play at least some sport be it football or cricket, I was equally bad in all sorts of sports even table tennis or fussball. I couldn’t ride bicycles or swim either and I have always been a fat kid. Now at 32, I am happily married with my wife and a daughter. However, the regret of not getting to play enough sports or having good socializing skills makes me feel bad even today. You might say that it’s too much but this regret of not making memories in the playground or not being able to participate in discussions around sports tournaments or a certain athlete troubles me a lot on a deeply psychological level. Is there anybody else who feels almost ashamed about not getting to play sports in childhood, not making enough friends or not getting to discuss sports as an adult. Will very much appreciate your suggestions. Thanks. #Sports #Childhood #Friends #Shame #regrets

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    #Grief
    #Childhood trauma

    Mom, I miss you so much. You have been a peace in my life that has left an enormous wound.

    The feeling of helplessnes is back. Makes me feel scared to death. I desperately need you care for me.

    How on earth can it be possible to be my own caregiver?
    Are there people in my life to help me?

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    Mental health Journal..Do you write to clear your mind? #Childhood Trauma #ChildhoodAbuse #Anxiety #Trauma #Depression #Selfcare

    Does anyone keep a journal to help with your healing? I’m starting one, I’ve found so many prompt and page ideas. I believe it will be a really good step in my healing journey.

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    The Raincoat by Ada Limón

    Happy Friday, friends! The incredible Ada Limón was recently named the 24th Poet Laureate of the United States, so I wanted to share one my favorite pieces of hers with all of you. Limón is no stranger to chronic illness, and I think this poem speaks to some of the experiences of being a child (and adult!) with any type of illness. It's also a nice reminder of the power of community, caregivers, and supportive loved ones. Thank you, fellow Mighties, for helping to keep me dry.

    The Raincoat

    When the doctor suggested surgery

    and a brace for all my youngest years,

    my parents scrambled to take me

    to massage therapy, deep tissue work,

    osteopathy, and soon my crooked spine

    unspooled a bit, I could breathe again,

    and move more in a body unclouded

    by pain. My mom would tell me to sing

    songs to her the whole forty-five minute

    drive to Middle Two Rock Road and forty-

    five minutes back from physical therapy.

    She’d say, even my voice sounded unfettered

    by my spine afterward. So I sang and sang,

    because I thought she liked it. I never

    asked her what she gave up to drive me,

    or how her day was before this chore. Today,

    at her age, I was driving myself home from yet

    another spine appointment, singing along

    to some maudlin but solid song on the radio,

    and I saw a mom take her raincoat off

    and give it to her young daughter when

    a storm took over the afternoon. My god,

    I thought, my whole life I’ve been under her

    raincoat thinking it was somehow a marvel

    that I never got wet.

    poets.org/poem/raincoat

    #MightyPoets #Poetry #Scoliosis #ChronicIllness #Parent #Caregiver #Childhood

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