Hidden Pieces ~ infancy

***TRIGGER WARNING***  ***TRIGGER WARNING***

Well, I made a decision after much thought and prayer, I decided to begin retelling what I wrote in the Winter/Spring of 2007 after four years of intense flashbacks and repressed memories emerging. [Current commentary is in brackets.]  I wrote my seventy page "biography" because I needed to write out what I remembered and what I experienced to make it more "real" rather than a "story."  I am ready to take the next step and putting more of it in my blog.  This was the original reason for starting my blog and using my journal as a starting point.  I am still struggling with believing that the following is the truth of my life:

I was an abused child and the abuse started at a very early age, infancy or earlier. From the earliest time I can remember, I was in fear for my life and thought of dying or killing myself on a daily basis. I lived in terror all the time until early adulthood. I experienced neglect, emotional, physical and sexual abuse. Many may not believe my story, but it is my story and it is the truth. Although, sometimes, I have difficulty believing it myself, but it is what I have been reliving and piecing together my past since January 2004 through flashbacks, therapy and from what others have told me. [including family] This is very difficult to write as it definitely makes the truth more real as I created an alternative reality in order to just survive. My mother has a borderline personality disorder, my father was very strict, ridged and narcissistic, my step-father and his father were sadistic and narcissistic. Everyone was so unpredictable, full of rage and there was no real escape.

My parents married because my mother was pregnant with me. (For many years, I thought that it was my fault, but no longer believe this is true) and definitely no one was happy that they were getting married especially them. [When looking at my mother's wedding pictures, with my father's side and him being cut out, which is such a borderline action, my therapist and I noted that they seemed like they couldn't stand to be even near each other.] I was blamed for being born, that they had to drop out of college and all the other goals that they were no longer able to accomplish because they had a baby. At first, we lived with my mother and father and his father. There was constant arguing, loud shouting and physical violence toward my mother. Reportedly, both hated my mother and blamed her for getting pregnant. All were extremely ambivalent toward my birth and life. I probably felt hated and wanted to not exist.

Everything was unpredictable, as we would often end up at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Sometimes my father would follow, in anger, then everyone would be yelling and sometimes the police were called. My family all hated him and reports that he was violent, yelled loudly, was too strict with me and ran over the family dog with his car intentionally killing her.

My mother has always told me that I was a quiet baby and didn’t cause any trouble and did not get sick that often. She said, I stopped crying at six months old, which I know is not normal. I have an automatic reflex that when I begin to cry, I stop it usually without anyone noticing. As an infant, no one especially my father’s father could stand my crying. As a result, I was suffocated by having a hand placed over my mouth, a pillow covering my face, pinched on my right thigh and slapped in the face by my mother and father. Feeling like I couldn’t breathe scared and panicked me. I came to associate crying with physical pain or feeling like I was going to die. I also learned not to cry when being attacked or assaulted by someone inflicting pain. Sometimes, I feel some sadness when I think about how old I was. Now, every unexpected sound, loud sound or voice makes me immediately tense and fearful and on edge…sometimes causes panic attacks. It is awful. Sometimes, I think they really hated me and wanted me dead.  My aunt, who is only ten years older than me, and my uncle, who is fifteen years older than me, lived there also and were teenagers. 

[Borderline personality disorder has its roots in early abandonment.  Mine was at least from the time I was born. I was abandoned early by my parents not wanting me, the household environment, my mother walking away from me when I was crying or becoming abusive.  I know that she walked away during the most important time of my development from infancy through being a toddler.  I didn't receive the vital emotional needs that an infant needs to survive and develop a sense of self and security. 

Much of this time period resulted in my hypervigilance, "silent crying," PTSD, depression, anxiety and wanting to die thoughts.  Basically, I have been depressed, anxious and ambivalent about living.  Being ambivalent about almost everything including relationships and with myself is a borderline personality trait.  I internalized my not getting my needs met and the ambivalence that my parent had about my being born.  Infants will often "play dead," when their emotional and physical needs are not met.  So, my primary dilemma is really "to be or not to be."

One happy thing and one of the things that probably contributed to my being alive today is that my Grandpa wanted me and wrote in his "biography" that "it was a great day when Coleen (me) was born."]

To be continued...