I am a 42 year old woman and survivor of satanic ritual abuse. I have dissociative identity disorder and experience complex PTSD symptoms. Despite this, I am relatively high functioning and tend to be very active and engaged in life. I started remembering my abuse at around the age of 25. Prior to that I had no solid memory of my childhood and things just felt blank. I was programmed to keep very busy in order to forget my abuse and so I was always on the go and doing things.
I was lucky to find an interest in the creative arts and filmmaking, so my pursuits have mostly been very stimulating and enjoyable, though hard work. Almost everything I did kept me away from myself and I would say that I was extremely disconnected from the way that I felt in general. I always felt something was wrong, but couldn't put my finger on it. When I discovered I had been sexually abused as a child, it was like my whole world changed and everything that I had felt or experienced prior to this was a lie. Everything, yet nothing, made sense. I wanted to pursue recovery and wholeness immediately, but the more I tried to do this, the more walls I kept hitting. Programming was inbuilt in me to 'not remember' and I thought I would die if I did. The paradox was, that I longed to die, and suffered suicidal ideation on an almost daily basis for over ten years. I had used drugs and alcohol from the age of 13 to self soothe and medicate and the turning point for me was when I hit a rock bottom with drinking at the age of 31.
I went into AA and that really kickstarted my journey of recovery. I learnt how to deal with life without picking up a drink or a drug and most importantly, I was led to my real saviour, Jesus Christ. Almost a year into being sober, I started hearing voices. I had heard these voices for a long time but had stifled them with alcohol and drugs. The voices were extremely loud and negative and told me to kill myself. I sought psychotherapy and prayer ministry and it was through these experiences that I discovered I had dissociative parts of self (multiple personalities). Since accepting this, I have definitely started to get better, although it has been a long journey. I am in my tenth year of sobriety and on a very personal, determined journey to find myself within my fragmented identity.
This is a blog about Dissociation, Satanic Ritual Abuse, God and other stuff.
I live in Melbourne, Australia. Please stick around and share your thoughts too.
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9 thoughts on “mother”
Beautiful! Can I reblog this?
💔 I’m so sorry my friend. Your words ring true because you could be describing my Mom too. I still long for the mother that mine could never be.
You know my heart.
It’s a sad part of the heart to know
This is such a sad day, Mother’s Day, and I relate. At least I heard from my daughter and son and grandson, but the memories of my mother leave me cold, sad, and bitter. People say, in honor of your mother, put a photo of her on your page on facebook. FUCK NO!!
Totally agree. We need to talk more about the emotional complexities of the day and also build each other up as women in terms of How we mother ourselves, our friends, our community
All day I felt this urge to text my mother and the rush of fear and disgust and anger every time this urge surfaced till finally, instead of doing something because it’s expected, I listened and didn’t send the text.
I’m sorry you know this feeling to, and it’s okay when you write down and feel those feelings!
Maybe we can honor Mother’s Day not just with appreciation and love but with also acknowledging that there is such a thing as ‘a bad mother’ because it seems society is not yet ready for this stigma.
Being a mother myself, I do not expect my kids to make something or show appreciation just because they feel obligated to do this. They each chose there own own way to show there affection and it was perfect. And I was able to honor both feelings, the way I missed out on a loving and safe mother and the way I can be (or try to be)’ just that for my own children. Even though it’s sad and it hurts.
Totally agree. I went to a church service that morning and appreciated that the pastor focused a lot on reframing Mother’s Day. She suggested we could celebrate women who build community. I cried a lot during that service because I felt heard. I feel better when people to acknowledge the complexities. It was probably the first day I had ever cried for the loss, the anger, the disbelief. Thank you for writing about your experience too