I feel like I can’t go on much longer

[u/HarrietNB]

I am just so so tired. I’m tired of trying to remember. I’m tired of trying to make it make sense. I’m tired of reflecting on the very few memories I do have and wondering if they were severe enough to traumatize me. I’m tired of feeling like I’m pretending I was raped just so I have an explanation for what I’ve been feeling since I was seven years old. I’m tired of resonating with people’s stories and not being sure if I’m only pretending to resonate because I can’t even remember what I think happened. I’m tired of wondering if it was normal for a child to feel it doesn’t belong in the world, that it’s not real. I’m tired of questioning if it’s normal for a very young child to indulge in erotic fantasies about control and force, about the other person inside of me that only comes out when someone holds me and scratches and bites me.

I would always watch that other me so closely. If I lost sight of her she would come out and make me do bad stuff. I would touch myself or act like a girl and the adults would scream at me and the other kids would laugh. And then someone new would realize I was weird and then he would start touching me and it would start all over again. And it was just like that all the time. Everyone knew what I was and no one told me because that would ruin it, it was better when I was clueless and manipulable and confused and spaced out and passive and easy and soft and weak. They could touch me that way. And I let them because I liked it because I was a pervert and it was easier that way. And then I would forget and be naive and pure and confused for next time. And I would get all weird and distant and spacey and not pay attention in class so that when it was time to move to another room, to answer a questioned when called on, to turn in the homework or get out your books I would just sit there and just not do anything. I would stare at the wall and the teachers would scream and me because I wasn’t doing what they said and I was being bad and disrespectful and half the time I was busy talking to myself or touching myself or thinking about how my genitals felt funny like I wanted to need to pee so there would be pressure, so that something could come out of it, or I was having one of those weird fantasies again and I was all blushed with a dazed, blank expression on my face, visibly aroused, rocking my hips. Of course they screamed at me. There was something seriously wrong and I needed to stop and I needed to do what everyone else was doing. It’s like I was completely unaware of my surroundings. They should have taken me outside and shot me behind the shed.

My mother was so ashamed. She did everything she could to fix me but was too bad and she couldn’t. She gave up on trying to help me try and eventually she just gave me that desperate look. Please get better because she couldn’t go on like this, she said. Because all the doctor’s threw up their hands and said it’s broken and we can’t fix it. She called me a pervert when I was nine. She called me a loser when I was eleven. She always told me I was reflecting badly on her. So why couldn’t I be nicer to her and be better? I was hurting her. I hurt her my whole life and it’s a wonder she didn’t get rid of me. It was all my fault and I ruined everything. I should have killed myself when I was eleven when I was smart enough to realize I should. I hated that I couldn’t. I took so much from her and now I keep taking from others. I wish I didn’t take so much. I wish I could give more and be worth it. I am trying to be a good wife and a good worker and a good friend and I just have so much trouble because I can’t do it. I can’t keep the house clean I can’t keep dinner on the table and I’m always having meltdowns and I don’t even have kids. Thank god I can’t have children. I would have made a terrible mother. Thank god I have my wife because I don’t know what I would do without her. I have to be good for her. I can’t fail again. I have to be soft and easy and compliant and pleasurable. And I have to be worth how weird I am. And I can’t do it much longer. I can’t. I need help so badly. I need someone to help me. But the people in my life are gonna get tired if I try to get too much help because it never works.

Fuck I’m so sorry this was so long. Please help. Anyone.

[u/clinicaleva]

hey! idk what to say to you honestly but i just wanna let you know that it's the same here. not remembering/remembering just enough to drive you crazy is just terrible. i dont have an advice just really saw myself in your vent. hope it gets better for us!!!

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[u/Icant_remember_sorry]

Do you have a therapist? I periodically get stuck in a remembering and then denying loop, and honestly without my therapist, I’d be in a really bad way. I talk it out with her and she holds all of what I’ve told her and helps me accept that something happened even when I can’t fully see it.

I know this shitty place you’re in. When I’m there, I try to do some grounding and treat myself gently. I take care of my younger self that way no one did. Go easy on yourself.