Poking trauma

Content warning – this post will talk about complex trauma, suicide and other sensitive stuff.

I feel anxious. I feel suicidal. And I think I’ve always felt like this. Sure, adult life brings us a lot of self-loathing, and I always thought it was related to my teens – being bullied, being forced into going through the wrong puberty.

I sure remember a lot of traumatic events from my teens. But wait – I wasn’t happy back then, I even felt a lot of self-hatred before. So, something definitely happened during childhood.

Recently, I started to realize that I tend to have sex with people especially when I don’t want to. I often lie saying it was great, I’m often not very sincere. And it probably happens because I don’t care so much about myself. I want to be used, I want to feel pain, I want to be neglected. I’m trash.

So, looking back to childhood, a lot of shit happened. First of all, I want to let it clear that I don’t remember being sexually abused. However, I definitely remember physical and emotional abuse. As a young kid, I would often tell my parents that I didn’t want to be born, or that I wanted to die.

I remember a specific occasion where I saw a very disturbing video on YouTube with my cousins. After I realized I was traumatized, I went to my mom, crying, saying that I wanted to die. She comforted me. I felt cold shivers. I was shaking. My dad came back from work that day and completely neglected my emotions. He didn’t comfort me, he didn’t seem to care.

My dad was highly negligent. Often times, abusive. He didn’t care so much about my emotions. Even though I seemed very autistic, he never cared for taking me to a therapist. When my cousin would hurt me, he would tell me to punch back and stop crying. He would spank me quite often when I misbehaved.

In 2023, I had an interesting conversation with him, when I told him that he was negligent – he tried to gaslight me, saying that he always worried about me. What a liar. A scumbag.