The Broken Child

This is a cross post ... originally posted on the TMS Help forum. It will save time to just post it here, as well. This is my background in 'bare bones' mode. It is stated matter-of-factly. I simply want to save time by getting it out there. As I am ready, I will address things as they arise.

The TMS concept is still new to me, but it is getting very comfortable, as though I have always known it, even though it never consciously brought to my attention.

So here I speak of my history ....
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I have been in actual physical pain since I was 12 years old. I will never forget the shift inside me, the beginning of the true fall into darkness. Prior to that moment, I had already curled into myself.

At age 3, there was a gun battle in our home involving a death. My mom had shoved me under the bed, and my baby brother remained in his bassinet.

Somewhere in here is a memory of taking a nap under the care of a grandmother-figure, and being awoken to attack by a belt across my face and upper body … she believed I was ‘pretending’ to be asleep.

At age 5, we moved, leaving behind my biological father and embracing my heart-soul-real Dad (my brother and I adored him and continue to do so). Lived briefly with very-scary maternal grandmother.

At age 8, a step-uncle had used me and my cousin for his pleasures.

At age 11, my brother was kidnapped by my biological father and I began 6th grade in a new school without him. Three months later he returned. My beloved Dad went through life-threatening surgery.

At age 12, divorce proceedings and my beloved Dad ended his life.

My mother had a new boyfriend who had an 18 year old son .. he liked 12 year olds. Three quarters through 7th grade, we moved deep into the country where my brother and I were left alone with the gross boyfriend, his son and son’s friend. My mom worked 14 hour days trying to keep us afloat. The man slaughtered the show bunnies my brother and I were raising and served them up for dinner. He caused our family dog to be executed. He gave me a young horse to train, then one day that horse was gone. My mom one quiet evening asked if I was doing drugs because I was so withdrawn. The hurt of that question seared. Sleep was my only escape. I slept often. Until the morning she asked me why I hadn’t woken up when she was screaming for help. Bruising around her neck showed what the man had done.

That was the day I fractured … I have never again slept fully, or unaided.

A few weeks after (I had turned 13), my mom came home and said pack whatever we could fit in the car, everything else was left behind. She put us back in the care of her sister for about 4 months (my girl-cousins had responded to the prior sexual abuse by turning to drugs and sexual activity, so their company was alarming and stressful to me), then came for us and took us to a new home, where she introduced us to our future step-dad.

At age 14, my little brother had his skull crushed in by a kick from a horse. His life was saved by brilliant surgery. At the same time my biological father began an assault for visitation rights. And our step-father revealed his true nature of alcoholism-gone-violent.

At age 15, we moved (continual court battles w/biological father).
At age 16, we moved (continual court battles w/biological father).

(total moves: 3 elementary schools, 4 junior highs, 3 high schools)

At age 17, graduating early, with honors, the battle with biological father continued. My brother had been sent away to a private school to ‘save his life’ from step-father (physically abusive), leaving me alone with this monster. The step-father engaged in a year-plus campaign to convince me that I should end my life, that it would relieve my mother of the burden of caring for me, and if I really loved her, I would do it, but obviously I was too much of a coward, etc etc etc. I developed an eating disorder (bulimia), which started as a way to purge what he made me eat. I didn’t like meat, but his rages were so violent if I didn’t participate in meals, I had to eat what he said. Later I purged it from my body. I ate more, privately, and gained weight to discourage his other attentions.

Then the legal assault .. my biological father was gaining ground, and was going to win visitation rights, and cause my brother to lose his place in his out-of-state school. My fears of my father gaining any rights to my brother had never left (the kidnapping). I blurted out that I would go with him if he left my brother alone (he was fighting back but was too young to be deemed able to make his own decision. The offer was accepted, and my brother was safe.

Since I had graduated early with honors, I was primed to start college, which I did in the care of my biological father and his wife. I was in a constant state of terror.

Nine and a half weeks later, my mom, accompanied by the police, got me safely out of the house. My memories shut down, and the state-appointed counselor who had advocated for family reconciliation, closed the case with the final recommendation that the ‘children have no further contact with biological father’. He also stated that I would likely never get my memoires back, and that it was probably for the best. Meanwhile, they discovered I had been drugged, and that was the cause of my crippling illnesses (fainting-throwing up-migraines, severe depression, stomach pains, body pains). Chronic nightmares began and didn’t leave for nearly 15 years. Only a few memories have returned of that time.

My stepfather was very, slyly happy to have my return.

The next blow took place within a few weeks .. a rape by a wealthy 21 year old who lived down the street (I found out later he had done the same with the girl next door).

I finally crossed into my 18th year. This was life. Pain was constant. Sleep deprivation was normal. Later came prescription meds and alcohol. And drugs to keep me awake as long as I could go (I hated sleep).

The following 21 years included a hysterectomy due to severe endometriosis , a joint replacement in my foot due to a rare syndrome (the joint died from lack of oxygen), endless chiropractors (all saying I would never live a normal life), labels of major depressive disorder, mild-moderate OCD, social anxiety disorder, seasonal affective disorder (holidays are the most terrifying memories).

This brings me to age 39, where my internal life shifted. I had always believed I would not live much past 40.

Living in Alaska with my extremely tolerant and loving husband, I took stock. A yoga teacher came to the small town, and I signed up. At this time, I was borderline agoraphobic. Entering the small class, I was overweight, and afraid. Wearing my husbands old flannel jammie bottoms and a baggy shirt, I began.

Three months later, I was teaching. Six months following that, my apprenticeship ended with certification (she only took three students), and I had lost twenty pounds.

Now I am 49, and I’ve lost a total of 60 pounds. Two and a half years ago, I was finally diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Raynauds and GERDS are companions to that label. The diagnosis was a relief, but it was also crushing. I was told it could not be cured and that I would always need meds to cope with it. In truth, the meds (gabapentin and two vicodin/perday) have significantly improved my ability to sleep.

Yoga helps tremendously, and it flung open the door on my self worth. I believe completely that I have value to the world. It eases the pain for long periods of time. It just didn’t stop it from coming back.

The meds don’t stop it, either, but it makes it very much more tolerable, and the sleep …. OH the blissful feeling of real sleep.

Still .. I just couldn’t accept that this was it .. a life of prescription meds, dependent forever. Really?

Now I learn of TMS. Of MBS. Mind body … of course. It fits right in with my beliefs. And the personality types … I am a mix of them. Again, a fit.

All the mentioned traumas .. what I remember is mostly those pieces. The bulk of my memories are dimmed or gone (in hiding?). Sometimes, on especially good days, a soft memory sometimes drifts in.

TMS .. oh yes. I have not read any books yet, only followed the forum. Just this alone has made a difference. My sleep has improved (lengthened). The usual 6 hours has drifted into 7 hours. It has affected my thoughts. Strengthened the positive.

Most of all … the very-very-mostest-of-all … it has given me hope.

With grace and gratitude to you all.
^_^

 

Lily Rose, I just read your post and want to thank you for sharing your story with us al.. I hope everyone reads it because you are a true survivor.
I thought my boyhood was not the happiest, from poverty and divorces. Yours makes mine feel like I was living in something out of Father Knows Best.

I'm so glad you discovered TMS and urge you to read Dr. Sarno's book, Healing Back Pain, and Steve Ozanich's The Great Pain Deception. Their books are real inspirations. They both agree that fibromyalgia is TMS. I posted about that yesterday and will try to find it so I can tell you which one it is.

The chiropractors who told you that you would never free yourself of your past are totally wrong. What you went through was even worse than Oprah Winfrey tells about herself, but you will put all that awful stuff behind you. You're on the right road to recovery, and I'm so glad you have a loving and caring husband. Be good to each other.

I'll post more later but want to get this off now because my dog's eyes are telling me it's 4 pm and she's hungry.

You have hope now. You've come to the right place to meet caring people who have pain from any number of TMS repressed emotions.
Sarno and Ozanich say they're very likely from childhood stresses and traumas. You've had more than your share of them. You're going to become a pain-free, happy person. You didn't mention God. Include him in your meditations and pray to Him. He says "Ask and you shall receive." Be sure to ask.

Have a great evening and new life.

 

*sighs gently* Your dog, your lovely dog. When my finances improve, and our property becomes fenced securely, a dog will once more bless our lives. I love all animals, but I am most certainly a dog person. If you ever feel the urge to post pictures of her, I would love to see them.

I AM a survivor. I want more than survival, though. And I am getting it. It takes work, but I am willing to work. If it were easy, really, what would be the point? It is effort that helps us get stronger.

As for God -- my spiritual beliefs are deep and spread across many spectrums of thought. I will say simply this: I am not alone. I have felt a companion with me like the soft touch of a feather. I am not alone ... not in this realm, or the other. We are all connected. Your pain is mine, and mine, yours. No matter what the cause. We cannot compare situations or backgrounds, because each of us has our own journeys to travel ... and we are never given more than we can truly handle. Sometimes it feels like we aren't strong enough, but we are. Deep inside, we ARE strong enough. Each and very person here is VERY strong. I know this because they ARE here, setting aside the Ego and accepting responsibility for their lives.

Those who refuse to accept, are not ready. It is important to be patient with them.

When I say your pain is mine, and mine yours ... this is also true for joy. I felt a quiet joy when you mentioned your dog.

Thank you for your gentle words.
With gratitude ^_^

 

You are a true survivor!!! Know you strengths, they are superb!! I thought I had a rough
life and I did but NOTHING compared to yours! Hang in there because we will all help
you through this. You are so strong and this life story makes me feel like what I have lived
through is nothing. Hang in there Honey, we're here. Lots of love to you, Nancy

 

Lily Rose, First...can I just say I love your name? And I love it even more after hearing your story. What strength and perseverance you've shown. Your survivor story reminds me of "Man's Search For Meaning" by Victor Frankl. If you haven't read it, it may resonate with you. Frankl survived WWII in a prison camp. I marveled at his story, as I do yours.

I am so very glad you found this forum and I will count it a privilege to watch your healing journey unfold.

And speaking of pets. We just got a new kitty today. I am so happy. We live on a highway so dogs are out for us since we have no fenced yard. But an indoor kitty is doable. My beloved cat died several months ago and I've really been longing for a four-footed companion. They bring such a healing presence.

Sending hugs to you!

 

Nancy ... I must protest the comparisons. Everyone has their own unique events and their own responses/reactions to them. I also believe there are reasons beyond what we can understand for why we go through what we do. Whatever you have been through, it is FAR from nothing. I could turn around and look at someone who is missing a leg and think how lucky I am. I have all my limbs, my mind, and a really kick-a$$ immune system (I rarely get sick!). It is all a matter of perspective and understanding. Your life, your pain .. it is no less valid or intense than my own.

That said -- I deeply appreciate the support. I have not let many people in real close to me. I have never felt that anyone could handle knowing me this well. The information, even in tiny doses, tends to overwhelm. And the response is often confused pity. The very thing I do not need.

Instead, I am the one that others lean on. I am the strong one. That is okay. It is a role that I comfortably take on. My history gives me empathy for others. It gives me tools to share.

Lovely Montana ... I like the name, too *smiles* It came to me many years ago. It is part of my transformation.

Comparing me to a Veteran is a tremendous compliment. I will make note of the book and add it to my amazon list.

If you have any pics of your kitty, please feel free to post on the off-topic forum *hint hint*. I'd love to see your beloved kitty, too. We've had 3 cats, and 3 dogs. I'll do some posting of their pics soon.

Blessings ^_^

 

I would love to share a picture...as soon as she feels confident enough to emerge from the back of the closet. She is such a cutie! She's a tabby/calico mix.

I'd love to see pics of your furry friends. They add so much value to this life.

 

Thanks you for sharing your story. I also survived an abusive childhood and feel that hurts and buried feelings from that time definitely contribute to my TMS symptoms, even though I did quite a bit of therapy at one point, (like layers of an onion I guess). I do think talking about these things in a safe place, takes away their power. This is a great place to connect with others. All the best to you.

 

Hi, Lily Rose. I'm so glad you got some replies from some of the most caring people on the Wiki.

MontanaMom, I'm glad you have a new kitty. I've heard newcomers to a house can hide for a while.
Maybe play some soft music and she'll come out of the closet.

I'll post a few pictures of my Annie. She's 12 but peppy as a puppy. I adore her and get the feeling
from her eyes that she feels the same about me.'

Stormy tornado weather here in the Chicago area. An indoor day for us both.

I'll post the photos separately.

 

Here's............. Annie.

 

Oh Annie ......... *melts*

^_^

 

Hi, Lily Rose, Annie is a total darling. Just full of love.
A great companion for an 83 yr old living alone
from a big family but no one comes to visit.
That's okay, I have Annie and my TMS. haha

 

Last winter she went out in my front yard and it was a good thing she was black.

And when she was younger she loved playing soccer.

 

We lived in Alaska from 2000-2007. Our beloved Buddy Boy and Sassy Girl. Miss Annie looks as though she loves the snow, too!

My very closest friend is a man I met online, and I once flew out to visit him. He is 80 years old. We write (email) each other several times a week. You remind me of him. Kindness being one strong trait. He doesn't have a dog, though .. that is his only flaw

I think animals help with TMS symptoms. The bring such joy, and they take us outside ourselves. If we pay attention, they have alot to teach us. Especially how to live in the present moment. That is one of their greatest lessons to us.

I never tire of looking at animal pictures. Especially when it is a chosen companion. Annie's obvious happiness speaks highly of her human friend.

^_^

 

Hi, animals are wonderful, I have two schnauzers and also my sons schnauzer so all
total three! I hope you were not upset by my em a few days ago. I don't wish to go in to
my story but I was just trying to help you. Nancy

 

Nancy, I was absolutely NOT upset by you, I was saddened to think you would consider what you have felt is any less than what I feel. I usually don't share my full details because people then get uncomfortable and think their own feelings don't have merit. I appreciate very much your warm support.

Schnauzers are sweet! I had a Schnauzer friend once, who would be at his owners store. He didn't like many people, but when I went in to get roses, he would rush out. I think it had to do with the very straightforward fact that I happen to be really good at giving dog-massages. They love it. And I love them.

Share pics if you have some ^_^

 

Thank you because I feel that I insulted you. I would never! If I knew how to put
my pups up I would, just for you! I will figure it out and then forward them. I hope
to hear from you, you sound like a lovely person and I hope to hear more from you,
Fondly, Nancy

 

Your story is an amazing sad one of survival. Thank you Lily Rose for posting it and sharing it. Today, reading this gives me the strength to carry on.
Thank you for that. It took great courage to share your life like that.

I'd like to give you a big hug today. It sounds like you are definitely on the right road to recovery. I am so happy to see that you are being gentle with yourself. That is so important.

You are a strong survivor my dear friend. *hug*

 

We are ALL strong enough ... this I believe deeply. I also believe we are presented with countless opportunities for growth. While what happens to us does matter, what we become matters even more. In my family, the traumas have given permission to perpetrate further negative behaviors, and this has traveled through several generations. I have always felt that since I was hurting so much, how could I possibly bear the idea of hurting anyone else?

I feel as if three entities reside within me. The hurt, damaged, wounded Child; the patient, enduring Guardian; and the non-judgmental Witness. The latter is fairly new, and a welcome addition to the mix.

There is a poem I really like ... it is a lovely philosophy:

If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain.... Emily Dickenson

If my history can be transformed into a method of helping others ... then I can bear the fears of humiliation in revealing such details. All my life, secrecy has been a shroud. To reveal was to be exposed to more danger.

In this place, in this forum, I have found a sense of safety.

Thus, my deep gratitude ...
^_^