Over you.

Dealing with loss is difficult. No, its more than that; it’s heartbreaking and lonely. You are constantly plagued with images of the people you love walking away from you. The child in you running and running to try and get her family back. Screaming and pounding her little bare feet on the stone cold ground. “Mummy don’t go. I’ll be better. I’ll be strong. Please don’t leave me? I need you”.

I need you but maybe you don’t need me anymore. Am I being crazy? Irrational? I could have sworn I’d seen love in your eyes once. Are you over me? Do I need to alter my perception of you over night and forget you are my mother. The woman who made me and the woman who told me I was her baby and I’d always be. I only ask because over the last few years I have tried my hardest to forget you. I’ve tried to deny your existence which has killed me inside even more. I’ve even tried pretending you had died. But you dying would bring me closure and I’m sat here with tears and more questions than answers. 

Let me try and pretend.

Over you, I’m so very over you. The way that you kissed the top of my head and the beat of your heartbeat when I was safe inside your arms. When I reported him you stood by him and it wasn’t a fight of just me against him. It was you not fighting for me. You said you loved me and you walked away. You chose to turn your back on your own child. Who does that? I need this to be over. I need this to be completely over because I can’t take this pain anymore. Maybe if I tell myself enough, I’ll get over you. Because there is simply a me and a you. Us isn’t there anymore. I need to remember that it was over two years ago and it’s still over now. I’m over you.

I don’t think I could ever truly replace you. You had three children so replacing one isn’t difficult. You can direct your attention to your eldest who’s getting married or the twin who has stuck by your side. You have people and you can risk losing one or two if you ever decide to. If you could truly be over losing one daughter then maybe it’s easy. Whereas for me I don’t have anyone left. You were it. All of you. I only get one mother and I don’t have a back-up. I never have and I never will. I don’t think I could love anyone in the same way that I have loved you.

When people mention you I have to go into autopilot. If they know you’ve gone and what I did, then it’s easy. They just don’t mention it. But if they do? I have to lie and say you’re okay and that we are all excited for Christmas. I lie about how supportive you’ve been of my recovery. I don’t know which is worse because the awkwardness of someone accidentally mentioning you or them talking about their own mother and me not being able to contribute is excruciating. But having to lie and create this dream which I am desperate to be real hurts like a knife stabbing my skin. But I’m over you, aren’t I? Even the way that you used to laugh at my sarcasm or the way I was terrified of walking on the ice and you used to protect me. And the way you would stroke my forehead before sleep which always made me feel better. Yes, completely over you.

Maybe if I tell myself enough, I’ll get over you. You’re the one who’s struggling not me and maybe it’s a bigger deal to you and not me. Or have I got the roles reversed? My mistake. You’re fine, right? I don’t think you walking away was all to do with what I did. It wasn’t what happened at all, it was just that maybe I was never meant to be your daughter. But I love you and I want you and I have stayed away for two years and I’ve let you control this. You told me you loved me and you walked away. You told me to wait but I’m not waiting anymore. It’s now or never. My ultimatum to you. Because I can’t keep going the way I am. It hurts. And I have to let go because it hurts too much. It hurts too much.

Do you think about the person I have become? The people I have in my life now? If I’m okay? I keep thinking and worrying about you. I don’t want you to die before I have a chance to talk to you. To tell you everything that happened all those years ago. About how much I love you even though you abandoned me. Because you are my mother and I will always have a part of you inside me. I can’t change that and you have no idea how much I wish to. I tried to remove every ounce of you from my life. The clothes I used to wear, the childhood pictures and teddy bears, the perfume, the heart shaped bowls, the cards, and even the image I have in the mirror. But I’ve realised that I can throw out physical memories and I can change the way I look but you will always remain. Because you can’t remove the memories from inside your head. Not without losing every other memory. I’m not ashamed to say that many of my suicide attempts were to remove you and therefore remove myself by default. To be completely over you. I never belonged in your family. I never really did. I want to be the daughter you want to want. And because I was never enough, I need to let go now.

Maybe, just maybe, if I tell myself enough I’ll get over you.

But so far, all I’ve done is stumble and fall trying to get over you but I keep ending up falling around you.

Flashbacks and Fireworks.

You know when you watch fireworks and there’s this huge anticipation before the loud noise echoes around you? It feels like that when you struggle with traumatic memories. You feel a body sensation and your heart picks up speed. You become more alert and on guard. You look around like a rabbit in headlights. But instead of excitement you feel panic and dread. The desperation for the end to peak sooner rather than later, is intense. You close your eyes tightly and you beg for the next noise to not be as loud as the last. You also pray that it will be one of those quick and short lived fireworks. Not the slow whizzing ones that capture your full attention for minutes on end.

Living with trauma can be unpredictable and it’s like the people around you can’t see the fireworks. They don’t know you are experiencing this huge display because they are in the present but mentally you are not with them. Your body might be stood beside them but your mind is so far into history, you start to question if you’ve discovered time travel. You look around and you feel confused because how can they not hear his voice? How can they not see him forcing himself upon your body? You’re screaming for help but no one can save you. Why? It’s because it’s already happened. The problem is just because it happened in your past it doesn’t mean that’s where it will stay. It’s not like every flashback is the same. You can’t prepare for just the one body memory or the one act of abuse. They come in different orders meaning the fireworks are not predictable and therefore they shock you and surprise you every single time.

Just like when a person is preparing for bonfire night it’s important for a sufferer to protect themselves from flashbacks. You need something to wear to provide comfort from the cold shivers that run down your spine. You need something for your hands to hold as barrier from the desperate need to claw your skin to rid his hands from your wrists and neck. You need to protect your whole body from the odd nudge of people passing you by. You also need a little reminder of the people you love and care about. Having a safe place to go or a safe person to talk to is important. Like animals that are scared of the fireworks, you might need a safe place to hide such as warm fluffy blanket or the arms of someone you trust. This person is not your abuser and therefore they remind you that you are safe and you can cope with the flashbacks. They help you to use your grounding techniques and stay with you so that you are not alone.

When I find myself trapped in a flashback I feel so lost and confused. My head pounds and the world around me is loud and in soft focus. I don't see people as fully as others do and I can't hear their voices as clearly either. Everything creates this fullness within my head and I am screaming over and over to get this scene to end. I need the fog to lift and I need my mind to be silent even just for a second. The voices from the past are terrifying and they ask me to do things I don't want to do. One asked me to jump off the bridge. I walked there in a dissociative state but a man passing by grabbed my hand and walked me away. Another voice asked me to hit someone really hard and in those moments I lock myself away and I put objects in front of the door to prevent me leaving. I can't leave because I will hurt someone. The voices can be so convincing at times and I cry in desperation. His voice clearly repeats that I deserve this. That I have to take my punishment. He was right and I was wrong. My body like an apple rotten to the very core. 

People are these huge living risks. Will they make the flashbacks more intense? More regular? More terrifying? Will they leave me like the family I once had? Life is tough when you take the risk to report a family member. The gamble is huge and I unfortunately lost. I folded or rather the investigation ended and I sit here trying to pick up all the cards I pushed away from me. Although these events and memories are painful, they are ultimately my history. To walk away from them is to walk away from myself. I was abused for the majority of my childhood and it’s impossible to just ignore this. It’s like having a broken leg and refusing to believe that it needs treatment to repair itself. I know my past and I refuse to ignore the flashbacks that were a consequence. 

Trauma will cause a variety of symptoms and they can be very unpredictable like a firework display. But no firework can last forever. You can make it to the end. The relief after that loud earth-shaking sound is the best feeling for a trauma survivor to experience. You’ve got this and you are not alone. I’m with you.