With Trepidation

I’m not usually stuck for things to say.  However, today I’ve been wondering what I’ll blog about.  Last night I spent some time searching through other blogs on WordPress, with similar situations to my own.  What struck me is the sheer courage of many who honestly lay out their entire lives and emotional states for everyone to read.  I wonder if I can be as brave.

The problems I have gone through in the past, which largely contribute to my current mental health, are so painful; I have seldom had courage to address them in therapy.  This afternoon I had butterflies in my tummy just contemplating my own blog-journey.

Last night I spent time reading someone’s blog, which is actually having quite an impact on me today, for two reasons….

The first is the realisation that I am probably suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, directly linked to my difficult childhood with my parents

What has always struck me as odd is the fact that I was sexually abused as a child, from 5 to 8 years old, by a neighbour.  It took me many years to realise just what an affect this had on me.  In comparison to family life, the sexual abuse somehow didn’t feel as traumatic.  I remember being weirdly content from a grown-ups attention because it certainly wasn’t available at home

A few years ago, I was a victim of a particularly gruesome “attempted murder”.   Subsequently, I have a diagnosis of PTSD with associated problems with Agoraphobia.  However, once again, the trauma didn’t have as much effect on me as my early childhood. 

Any traumatic flashbacks I get are not at the hands of a sexual abuser, or at the mercy of a psychotic murderer.  Tragically, my visual memories come from the first few years of my life, at the hands of two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally; my parents. 

Here I am at 50 and still fretting over things that took place over 42 years ago.  This blog will be quite a journey; it’s hardly surprising it conjures some trepidation.

The second issue arising from this person’s blog is Borderline Personality Disorder.  Within the last year, my new Psychiatrist diagnosed me with BPD.  It took me a few months before I had the courage to read about it.

The information I did research was by Mental Health Organisations in the UK and most are quite positive.  Many of the symptoms were like reading the most difficult parts of my own life.  What had never occurred to me is that others may well look upon me as difficult, manipulative, changeable, and many other issues people seem to have with BPD sufferers.

I can see how I may well be manipulative to get my own way.  While I didn’t associate it with BPD, I certainly recognise it as a part of my personality that I don’t much care for.  I like to think that I have most of that under control and do consider the opinion and feelings of others, but maybe I just kid myself.

In recent years, I have completely removed myself from friendships, relationships, and even family ties.  At one time, life just seemed too difficult; relationships were complicated and my hermit existence was not only about protecting my own emotional state, but it was also about safeguarding those around me

But, without doubt, I need to research more about BPD and I do look forward to sharing my findings here.  Incidentally, I have an assessment on Monday with an NHS service for people with Personality Disorders.  There is group work/therapy and 1-2-1 spread over 2 years.  As with any Psychological assessment, they are never easy and I approach it with caution. Over the years I have shied away from looking at any part of my life. I can only pray for the courage to move forward

5 thoughts on “With Trepidation

  1. releasing lunacy

    I’m sorry for all the painful events you’ve experienced in life. One nice thing about blogging is finding people who’ve experienced similar situations or illnesses. It’s comforting knowing you’re not the only one.

    It’s incredible how much our childhoods affect us. It can be excruciatingly painful to accept that we were hurt so badly as small children, and even worse to realize the extent that hurt has affected our lives.

    Keep sharing and writing.



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