woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 309
I don't care if no one reads this, although it would be nice. This might be long. But I figure I want to share a bit about my life before I CBT.
I used to think that my childhood was mostly alright. I didn't grow up poor or constantly abused, and I got very lucky in avoiding being bullied. But as I've aged, I have come to realize that the only one of those things that's true is that I was not in poverty. As it turns out, I have DID, and created amnesic barriers to block out the majority of what happened to me.
TW CSA for this section
ok TW over
Anyway, turns out my whole life I actually was abused. My dad was a "functioning" alcoholic, and took it out on me, my mom, and my sibling. He was also a cop, and still is to my knowledge (my parents divorced when I was 16). Abuse via cop is a whole different beast. It makes a cop in your own head, always controlling, always telling where to step, everything you're doing wrong, and how much punishment you must receive proportional to each sin. Plus I was the scapegoat child. Could never do anything right. Still can't. I always wanted to be a writer. People tell me they like my writing. But I had my passion stolen from me by a dopamine deficiency.
In addition to the abuse, my dad also passed down his ADHD and autism to me. I have a looooot more issues, but I was never able to get past the constant dopamine cravings characteristic of being AUDHD. I can't take medications for it because I am prone to seizures and have POTS, meaning no stimulants, SSRIs, SNRIs, Wellbutrin, and pretty much all anti-anxiety meds. I do take Lamotrigine and Seroquel, but they hardly do anything anymore. Everything else I have already tried and it doesn't work. So basically, I'm fucked. I haven't written or read anything in months because I can't focus on it. My last resort is ketamine therapy and I can't even afford it. Amazing.
Having POTS is such a curse in of itself. I can't THINK. The blood that's supposed to be in my brain pools in my feet, and it makes me literally fucking stupid. Sometimes it's so bad even sitting causes me pain. Showers hurt (yes even if I sit during them), walking hurts, thinking hurts, eating hurts, everything fucking hurts because everything uses blood, and my blood is bad and doesn't work. I was so traumatized that it fucked up my nervous system beyond repair.
When I was first discovered I have DID, it took me multiple years to come to accept it. I just couldn't comprehend that my life had been "that bad" despite having nightmares about my dad abusing me every single night. I'm so fucking autistic I didn't even realize I had been bullied until I talked to my mom, who said we had to have multiple sit down talks with other kids when I was younger because they were so ruthless towards me. But even though it took years to accept, I learned to love my system. That is, until last year.
In the midst of recovering traumatic memories, one day more than 3/4 of my system vanished. Just poof, no goodbye, no reason, no anything. It's been more than a year since then and they still haven't returned. As I've recovered more trauma and (had more traumatic things happen), my system has continued to shrink. Now it's just me, Eulogy. Because I am a eulogy at this point. I reflect the good things people saw in me, although I'm completely dead inside. Because if the only people who have ever truly been there for me, who have talked to me day and night, even took over my body to help me when I couldn't do things can abandon me, then I really am unsalvageable. Even my therapist doesn't know how to help me.
I already had my first suicide attempt when I was 6, and countless others since then. It's always been this way. Just sometimes easier to delude myself that "it will be ok" than others. But I'm 22 now, and I've got nothing left to give. My body, brain, and spirit have all been stolen from me. Death will be a mercy among a sea of pain and betrayal.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading if you did. Maybe someone out there can relate to some of this garbage.
I used to think that my childhood was mostly alright. I didn't grow up poor or constantly abused, and I got very lucky in avoiding being bullied. But as I've aged, I have come to realize that the only one of those things that's true is that I was not in poverty. As it turns out, I have DID, and created amnesic barriers to block out the majority of what happened to me.
TW CSA for this section
I suffered sexual abuse from my father at an age so young that I don't think I will ever be able to have the memory full re-surface. Not that I want it to. But I think it's one of those "body keeps the score" kind of things. It hurts so bad. Flashbacks make me dry heave and scream. There's nothing I can do to take that back. It broke me so fundamentally that it shattered my brain.
Anyway, turns out my whole life I actually was abused. My dad was a "functioning" alcoholic, and took it out on me, my mom, and my sibling. He was also a cop, and still is to my knowledge (my parents divorced when I was 16). Abuse via cop is a whole different beast. It makes a cop in your own head, always controlling, always telling where to step, everything you're doing wrong, and how much punishment you must receive proportional to each sin. Plus I was the scapegoat child. Could never do anything right. Still can't. I always wanted to be a writer. People tell me they like my writing. But I had my passion stolen from me by a dopamine deficiency.
In addition to the abuse, my dad also passed down his ADHD and autism to me. I have a looooot more issues, but I was never able to get past the constant dopamine cravings characteristic of being AUDHD. I can't take medications for it because I am prone to seizures and have POTS, meaning no stimulants, SSRIs, SNRIs, Wellbutrin, and pretty much all anti-anxiety meds. I do take Lamotrigine and Seroquel, but they hardly do anything anymore. Everything else I have already tried and it doesn't work. So basically, I'm fucked. I haven't written or read anything in months because I can't focus on it. My last resort is ketamine therapy and I can't even afford it. Amazing.
Having POTS is such a curse in of itself. I can't THINK. The blood that's supposed to be in my brain pools in my feet, and it makes me literally fucking stupid. Sometimes it's so bad even sitting causes me pain. Showers hurt (yes even if I sit during them), walking hurts, thinking hurts, eating hurts, everything fucking hurts because everything uses blood, and my blood is bad and doesn't work. I was so traumatized that it fucked up my nervous system beyond repair.
When I was first discovered I have DID, it took me multiple years to come to accept it. I just couldn't comprehend that my life had been "that bad" despite having nightmares about my dad abusing me every single night. I'm so fucking autistic I didn't even realize I had been bullied until I talked to my mom, who said we had to have multiple sit down talks with other kids when I was younger because they were so ruthless towards me. But even though it took years to accept, I learned to love my system. That is, until last year.
In the midst of recovering traumatic memories, one day more than 3/4 of my system vanished. Just poof, no goodbye, no reason, no anything. It's been more than a year since then and they still haven't returned. As I've recovered more trauma and (had more traumatic things happen), my system has continued to shrink. Now it's just me, Eulogy. Because I am a eulogy at this point. I reflect the good things people saw in me, although I'm completely dead inside. Because if the only people who have ever truly been there for me, who have talked to me day and night, even took over my body to help me when I couldn't do things can abandon me, then I really am unsalvageable. Even my therapist doesn't know how to help me.
I already had my first suicide attempt when I was 6, and countless others since then. It's always been this way. Just sometimes easier to delude myself that "it will be ok" than others. But I'm 22 now, and I've got nothing left to give. My body, brain, and spirit have all been stolen from me. Death will be a mercy among a sea of pain and betrayal.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading if you did. Maybe someone out there can relate to some of this garbage.
