William Tollefson Value Blogs: Triggers and Panic Attacks: Survivors need to view them differently

I started trying to write this post about 10 days ago, and I could not do it.  I was really triggered and I could not put into words the panic I was feeling at the time.  On March 25, I had just finished writing a post for this blog when my stomach started feeling really off really fast and my mouth started watering.  Oh, yes.  To my horror, the stomach bug had hit me.  I prayed that I would just feel nauseous and fall asleep and wake up feeling better in the morning.  But, no, within 15 minutes, I was dry heaving.  Within 30 minutes, I was vomiting.  Ugh.  I would take 10 colds over one stomach bug.  So vomiting to me is a sentence worse than death.  My parents often commented when I was a child, and continued commenting into my adulthood, that they never wanted vomiting children.  What kid does not puke?    Some days, I really wish, they would have gone with that original thought and made sure that I was not born. This comment was made every time I threw up when I was a child, and I threw up a lot.  I threw up when I was sick.  I threw up when I was stressed.  I threw up when the abusers made me swallow their gross and disgusting bodily fluids.  (Sorry if this is too much information).  I threw up blood when I got an ulcer when I was 10.  I threw up when I got migraines (the first one at age 11).  And I threw up when my mother decided I was too fat and made me swallow syrup of ipecac when she thought I ate too much.  And every time I threw up, I was in trouble and was told how gross and disgusting I was.  And that is all I could think about and flashback to the entire 8 hours I dry heaved and vomited.  I kept hoping that nobody would hear me and nobody would see me.  During my last two sessions with MT (my therapist), we have been discussing this belief I have that I am gross and disgusting.  I often think that I must be innately gross and disgusting because of the abuse that happened to me.  I must be gross and disgusting to have somebody decide to do that stuff to me.  And I often think that I am gross and disgusting because of the abuse.  I eat and have eaten for a good portion of my life to try to keep people out because I am scared of people. Who knows who the next person to hurt me is?  And I think that my body makes me gross.  And I think that the stuff my body does makes me disgusting.  I work really hard to make sure people can’t tell how gross and disgusting I am. I will not leave the house without a shower and washing my hair.  I will not wear clothes with a stain.  I must brush my teeth and put on deodorant before leaving the house even if I did that just a couple of hours ago.  I will not wear a piece of clothing more than once without washing it.  I am kind of reading this from outside myself and seeing that it does not make a lot of sense.  But, it is hard to just sweep this notion from my head.  If my own parents thought I was gross and disgusting, might it not be true?  This stuff is so hard.  We are working hard on it in therapy.  I may not win this battle this time, but I will eventually.  I will win this war.


2 thoughts on “Triggered

  1. I hate vomiting too. But you are not gross or disgusting. The abusers were bad people. Your parents obviously did not think about children pooping and vomiting. They were a bit silly. But you my friend are not gross or disgusting. You probably won’t believe me but that is OK. Keep working on it

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is a battle, a war. But all this time I didn’t realize it’s me I’m battling. I turned against myself and their voices became mine. So, unfair as it might be, It’s my work to challenge each and every voice, so ingrained into my psyche the negative voices are like deep grooves in a record. But over time progress can be made. So remember to try to counter-act the abusive voices of your parents and the actions of your abusers. It’s a lot of work, and for some like me, a life-long job, but you’re worth it. And who else will do the work?

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s