I am working through the article, of which I posted a link to yesterday. I find the article informative and well written, but am pacing my reading because it is so heavy and real.
Here it is again. http://www.johnbriere.com/stm.pdf
I am finding some things….
I am not as angry at the therapists for misdiagnosing and mistreating me. I work on not being angry, but reading the article gave awareness to issues that I have not been facing. I am finding that the studies of the impact of severe abuse starting in early childhood for survivor adults are relatively new. I read over the summer in “the Boy Who was Raised as a Dog” by Bruce Perry that PTSD was recognized in the 80’s, and that abusive parents were depending on doctors believing them, and the belief that children are resilient until recently. I have been misdiagnosed with having depression until I was 32 years old. After my first psychiatric ward stay when I was 15 I was diagnosed as having depression and stress to do academically well. ( I went to a specialized math and sciences high school where students win Westing House science contests and go on to Ivy League schools). My parents lied about the mental, physical and sexual abuse.
I am reading how my early abuse changed my brain and that I think and see the world differently than somebody who was not abused as severely and early. One of the things that I learned is that those of us abused early and severely never form a sense of existing and cannot find boundaries between “I” and the rest of the world. That is why I believed that it was shameful to sue my parents, and I passed up a chance at a college education at an excellent private school (see “Why Didn’t I Try to Better My Life?” January 22, 2105 posr). I also didnt:
Go on foodstamps until I was starving when I was 24 years old because I believed others who thought that I was “above that”, and because I was ashamed. I had been eligible before, but I had to wait until I was out of work and not eating for 3 or 4 days. I used to believe that I was too proud to apply for food stamps, but now know that I couldn’t differentiate my existence and my experience from others who told me otherwise.
Have boundaries when collaborating artistically. I had to over and over again work with amateurs who’s lack of responsibility and discipline degraded my work and my image, and had spent years cutting people out of my life; This is because as they found out that I will stop working with them, and that their contact with them did not push their artistic career forward, but often embarrassed them, they started to abuse me. In then end I stopped having contact with these people, and I lost a lot of friends. I used to be hurt when I was labeled as “uptight”, “ambitious”, and “unfree”, but I know now that I wanted to identify with people, and an art community without knowing about boundaries, and that I had a different way of thinking/feeling/perceiving/existing.
I was hurt when people, usually older men told me to apologize to my parents and communicate with them. These so called friends would not listen to me when I tried to explain that they are narcissistic addicts/cowards/liars/manipulators/sociopaths. I was sad that they did not want to listen to me, and it scared me that they wanted me to see my parent’s face again. Now I know that these people who criticize me are jealous of my courage and do not hear what I have experienced. Of the three men who have did this to me that I recall the most, 2 of them wanted me to be their sexual mistress and it is not out of the question that he wanted to have sexual contact with me; consciously, or in his superego and id. They were trying desperately to be more powerful than me and I fell for it.
Here are 3 examples. As I rest, walk, and study, more come up. I am finally seeing myself in perspective.
I read this 3 days ago. http://www.higherperspectives.com/overthinking-worriers-1429984438.html
When I was in the city, bohemians, drag queens, collaborators, and one of my few true friends told me that I think too much. I really couldn’t see myself thinking less, to kill my intellectual capacity, of which of course, I am always worried about. I always liked the idea of Salvadore Dali’s Paranoiac Critical Method. I am now proud of my weird, dark, strange, political work.
When I was in the Ecology/Permaculture course (see my post: “I Was Wrong” August 15, 2015) We learned that the answer to a problem is found in the problem. We leaned that solutions to problems happen and the most activity are at the edge of comfort. I am learning how I was able to be uptight enough to have discipline and focus and creativity and obsessive commitment to work through my mental illness. I am more accepting of the fact that having no attachment to my parents as a baby made me socially awkward, and that I forwent a social life after I stopped partying to focus full time on my art work, working only for living expenses. The extreme poverty I grew up in taught me how to be resourceful and live simply ; I am not missing on any luxuries being in life. My being a loner and not wanting to talk about things that would trigger pain and fear made me an outcast, but also an artist that was labeled “scary”, “interesting” and “mysterious”. I was in alternative fashion shows and had complimentary tickets to events that I never would have been able to pay for. I have an interesting persona so friends who are fashion designers gave me interesting clothes that I occasionally wore, though I was able to live on found and hand me down clothes for every day wear. My strange and conflicting image that I was not purposefully fabricating.
My problem was the solution for art making and for starting and finishing projects. My problem of not living in a city ( I do not drive and have been cycling and walking for errands, but I usually stay indoors in my friend’s room) is giving me time to sleep, study about mental illness, and assess my life, as a whole and the past 5 years when I left my apartment and started living in unstable living situations. My problem of my body hurting and the rashes reappearing is giving me time to practice yin yoga, feldenkrais, gentle yoga and floor barre, which is evening my right and left sides, and giving me more flexibility than when I was teaching and practicing vinyasa yoga.
My problem of not being able to put my permaculture studies in motion in the form of a food garden is giving me time to study ecology and biology that I couldn’t make time for when I was making work in the city, and then; Living with a ghost.
I am still scared. I do not see a permanent living space on the horizon. My friend’s parents are looking to buy a smaller house and sell the one we are staying in, so I cannot stay here much longer. I am learning from the article I pasted yesterday http://www.johnbriere.com/stm.pdf , that treating me would require for me to be in a stable environment for an extended amount of time and to have a highly trained and ethical therapist.
I am trying to focus on resting, studying, and taking care of my physical body.
I learned at the ecology and permaculture