I hate how stigmatized trauma and the aftermath of it is, especially when it comes to childhood trauma. I hate having to feel EMBARRASSED for having symptoms from someone's else's harm against me. I was heavily neglected as a kid and at LEAST slapped a lot as a kid, I can't fully remember if I personally got worse but I know my older brother has. I was taken from my parents and placed into the system at around 6 years old and got adopted by my grandparents when I was 8. I used to be convinced I remembered everything but for the past few months I have been slowly getting little flashbacks of these small memories and it genuinely makes me feel insane because I just can't for the life of me put it together, and to be honest I'm kinda scared to. Im 99% sure I was sexually abused as a child. But I can't remember when, how many times, and if it was the same person or different people. That's what the memories are. I know there's more then one, but I can't remember any faces, and the one I do remember i didn't even actually know. It was a random man in the park restroom. And he looked generic and I would've been like 5 or 6 at the time so he wouldn't look the same regardless. I dissociate a lot, I don't recognize myself in the mirror, I feel gross 24/7, I think abt harming myself a lot, all my ocs have horrible trauma because all I can think about is all this bad stuff that could happen to be or be happening to others and the only way to get it out is with ocs, I have chronic pain and fatigue, I get mad easily, I have panic attacks all the time at LEAST once a week, ect. And I hate how hard it is to say that. I hate how I can't admit to anyone that I have blatter problems, and when I do I can't get myself to tell them it's because of the damage done. I can't tell them that I wet the bed till I was like 12 because of how scared and stressed and traumatized I am. I can't tell them that even when I'm "happy" I still feel horrible. Everyday is a bad day. And I hate it. And I hate how it feels like no one understands. And I hate how it feels like I can't talk about it. I hate it. I hate how I used to pull my hair out all the time and had scabs on my scalp from scratching. I hate how I hit myself when I get upset. I hate how I almost cry everyday. I hate how I can't focus on anything all day and get behind in classes because all I can think about is how fucked I am and everything I've been through. I hate how I hoard food even when I don't plan to eat it till days later because I'm scared there might be nothing left. I hate how I have learned to fold my plates and found ways to sneakily throw food I was to full to eat out to avoid getting yelled at because that was treated like a crime growing up. I hate how I walk funny because of the pain. I hate how poor my grip control is because of pain and uncoordination and being behind with my fine moter skills. I hate that I was still using sippy cups till I was 6 and would constantly spill drinks till I was 11 because my mom didn't wanna teach me how to use cups when I should've been. I hate how fucked up my teeth are because my grandma hasn't taken me to a dentist since 2019. I hate how I didn't know how to wash my hair or body till recently when I had to search it up because I was never taught. I hate how my hair used to be constantly matted and frizzy because it wasn't taken care of. I hate all of these things. And I hate how they are all seen as embarrassing when I couldn't/can't control it. I was fallied. And now I'm the one that has to suffer the consequences.
