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While healing from trauma, it’s normal for things to feel like they’re much worse before they get better. I have to keep believing it. This has been the most difficult road I’ve taken so far.
When we started my present focused therapy, there was a major wave of memories from my past relationship, the abuse that occurred for nearly a decade, all the fucked up things that went on. To put it nicely, I was on high alert.
I was anxious, but through writing, a lot of grounding, and talking, I was able to start seeing things clearer. Slowly, I’ve started to feel better about it. It’s not a happy topic, but I’m able to kind of look at it without it seeming so dark. I still have flashbacks, but they’ve been much less frequent.
I believe that this process is actually making a difference, but it continues to be a major source of pain and uneasiness every day. Lately, my mind has been fixating on my first experience with a relationship, when I was approximately 14, or 15 or somewhere around that age. Most of these years are blurry. My mind has the tendency to fixate on negative thoughts or bad memories, about how I felt in great detail at that time. It’s super uncomfortable to think about because it’s something I’ve pushed away for so long. I have always dreaded the topic.
My first heartbreak wasn’t anything catastrophic, I just think at that age I didn’t understand how I could feel so strongly about someone and they just did not feel the same. It was confusing. I thought that every living thing wanted to be loved, so why did he not want mine? I would’ve done anything. I was very much a dog in love. But I think heartbreak is a lesson that most people go through, it’s just not a fun one to learn, you know.
Whoever he was, it wasn’t what I thought. I think I was really in love with an idea. He listened, and he was kind, and seemed to care about me for a brief time. He was sweet, and funny, I felt very cared for and safe. I felt there was purpose to each day when he was around. But it was so hard to get him to just be around. And then he would just be gone and I would be left wondering why I wasn’t good enough for him to stay.
It was one of those situations where we would talk almost every single night before bed, for years, and I thought I was special, I thought of him as my best friend, but then it turned out he was talking to a lot of girls every night. I took it more seriously than I should have, probably. I’m sure it’s a very common story. I’ve also come to understand that I tend to romanticize the fuck out of everything. In my mind, he was the perfect person, he was brighter than any star, but I wasn’t really seeing who he actually was. I’m a dreamer. And it’s a hard fall back down.
We eventually dated at some point. I’m unsure because it feels like it went on for a few years, off and on. He’d just out of nowhere disappear, and stop answering my calls. I would beg for a reason, or something. My brain just needed something so I could understand why he’d go away. I’m sure I acted unreasonably. I was out of my mind trying to figure out what I did wrong. I didn’t want to be the kind of girl that does crazy things, so I would just stay out of his life. I didn’t always used to be so blocked off.
When people leave without explanation, you’re left alone with your own scary imagination. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, so I really believed he stopped talking to me because I wasn’t skinny enough. It seemed to make more sense than anything else. I’d see him in school, usually with girls, and I’d try to figure out what I had to have to be good enough. And then it was that I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or cool enough, or any other possible thing that a dumb teenaged girl could think of.
Coincidentally, this is the same time I started taking my mom’s diet pills and trying not to eat. Hello new best friend, my eating disorder! I did try talking to my mom about it, but I quit doing that after she said he probably dumped me because “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free”? I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but I get it. Something about using a cow as a metaphor for a female made it easy for me to stop listening pretty quickly.
School was difficult when I was that upset. How could they expect me to care about algebra when my heart was constantly bursting out of my chest? Later on, the boy ended up dating the sister of a guy who I had been SA’d by. I was floored, and needed to leave the school. I needed to remove myself from that entire world. This is when I started high school at an alternative school, which was super isolated, but it felt very healing at the time. I wanted to be no one, I wanted to just hide out in the basement of a shit school in the middle of a shit town, where no one knows me, and I don’t have to see or talk to anyone. And I find myself feeling the same way still.
I don’t know if it hurt so much more because my relationship was similar with my dad at that time. Growing up my mom would tell me that my dad didn’t want to spend time with me because he wanted to spend time with his girlfriend’s daughter instead. She told me he loved her more because she was “cute and skinny”. I didn’t know what the truth actually was, but I knew that sometimes my dad would go quiet for a time, too. But from a very young age, I learned to not trust what my mom told me about most things. However, when you’re young, it’s impossible to comprehend why some people just aren’t in your life. Sometimes you just believe what your crazy mother tells you because it’s all you’ve got.
So anyway, I have long known it wasn’t the stupid boy that I was having trouble letting go of, it was the why.
I never really got an answer, but at the same time, I always knew. It was easier to just say that it’s because I’m not worthy of love. It was easy to just say it’s because I’m a bad person. My early twenties were as reckless as the earlier years, just more private. Sometimes I’d drink in hopes it would kill me, but after one beer, I’d be sleeping next to the toilet. I’d get so drunk that all I could ever say was “I’m sorry”, and people would ask me why I was so sorry, and I didn’t know. But I felt no one should ever have to be in pain or be unhappy because of me. I couldn’t bear the thought. It was all I thought. This is why I never made it as a drinker.
The real answer that I never really got to hear is that he simply didn’t care. And I guess it was hard for me to accept that for a long time. I’d much rather kick my own ass and believe it was something I did. I eventually did accept it. But even with acceptance, there is still heartbreak. And I give my younger self permission to be heartbroken, to be mad, to be confused, to be SO hurt that you completely lose your shit. Any one else would, too. It’s no longer my responsibility to carry this.
The best part of all of this is that I got away. My heart no longer breaks every day. By some sheer miracle, I met my husband. My life has significantly gotten better, and I continue to grow and re-learn alongside the coolest dreamboat I’ve ever known. A lot of this trauma revisiting would have just been too heavy. It’s really pretty incredible, everything in life feels so much more possible when some one actually loves you and believes in you. He’s a real rarity 🙂

“Skinny Enough” 2017
As I continue to dig into my past and try to unravel all the layers through my c-ptsd recovery, I wanted to bring up something that isn’t really brought up often. I had never come across much about it, I guess. It’s something I wish I had known more about sooner.
As most people know, eating disorders are not about food. At least, I hope people know that much. It’s not about how we look. I know our culture tries to make it seem as if it were, but that’s far from what is real.
When I had my relapse last year, my therapist hypothesized that there was something that had really triggered me, more than likely having to do with my family dynamic – because that is often at the root of my disease.
She asked, “did something happen that reminded you of how you used to feel in your family setting?” and at the time that she asked me, I immediately thought of how I was feeling in my own relationships. I very much felt alone, watching a family together, a family that was supposed to be ‘my family’, but I was on the outside. I’m always on the outside. I can’t join in conversation, because I don’t get it. I don’t get the jokes, they just hurt me. I just end up feeling sad. I just end up feeling empty.
I thought, this must be what it was.
I was so isolated, so lonely, and I’ve got this best friend, but she kind of hides most of the time. She comes around when things get hard, and she knows what to do when we feel lonely. She’s not nice to me, she’s tough, but it’s what I need. She’s the one who screams at me to get the fuck up. She’s the one who reminds me that my mother says I look like a whore, so I must be a whore. She’s the one who reminds me of every painful thing that’s ever been said or done. I am nothing.
I listen to her because when she comes around, I don’t really feel anything wrong. Because I don’t really feel at all. Hours can go by without a single thought. It feels right to let her punish me. Her logic says that we don’t deserve love that we desire, we don’t deserve any of this. I believe her, I’m the bad kid, I don’t deserve anything. She’s wild, but she cares for me. She takes the wheel, and I can crawl to the backseat and hide.
What I’ve come to understand, is that this is due to a fracture in my timeline. At a time when I had become broken, this led me to find a way to survive.
I thought that I was crazy. I was afraid to tell anyone this, for mostly my whole life. I was worried this was some real, serious problem. I never had an explanation to why I felt like two separate people.
It turns out, though, it’s extremely common among eating disorder patients.
It wasn’t until recently that I remembered what the actual trigger for my relapse was.
(It is my own responsibility to heal from my triggers, so I don’t want to make it seem like I’m placing blame. Trust me, I blame myself for everything. I’m currently working my ass off on resolving this.)
It hit me like a brick when the thought came up, so much so that tears started pouring from my face in the middle of the day. Somehow, I had completely forgotten it, or pushed it down so much.
I can’t remember when it did occur, but I did get into a sort of “altercation” with my family.
So, you know that something that isn’t really brought up often? The impact of sibling abuse.
And I wanted to share some info about it, because I know from plenty of experience, that sometimes, we can be in toxic relationships and not even realize how much they’re hurting us.
You want to know why I get myself in dangerous situations? Why most days I don’t care if I live or die? Or why I seem to gravitate toward abusers? It’s easy to understand really. This is what ‘home’ was to me. It’s hard for me to decipher, is it love or is it living in constant fear? The line has always been blurred. But it’s easier to just laugh at me and tell me I’m “too sensitive” than to put thought into it, I suppose.
In a healthy scenario, a parent would discipline a child when they speak disrespectfully or manifest aggression and hostility. Some parents, however, have a deep fear of conflicts. They do not like playing the ‘bad cop’ and will do everything to avoid being disliked by their child. The unconscious worry is that if they say “no” to their child, their child won’t love them anymore. As a result, they don’t do anything to discipline a child that is acting out. If one of the children come across as strong and aggressive, they become afraid of them rather than challenging them. These parents’ inability to assert parental authority means the children are left to find their own limits, which is impossible.
The absence of parental guidance and authority sets the scene for sibling abuse. When one child becomes out of control or finds that they can blackmail or bribe their way out of things, they will become a bully to their brothers and sisters. If one sibling always blows up in an unpredictable rage, it is difficult for the other siblings to feel safe. As a result, other siblings experience complex trauma, which includes chronic hyper-vigilance and the inability to feel safe in any environment.
The siblings of an uncontrolled, bullying child will also not have the room to express their needs and emotions.
Their dysregulated sibling and vulnerable parents have very much taken up the ‘emotional space’ in the household. There is no room left for them, and nobody in the household has the capacity to attend to their wants and needs and to show them they matter.
They may feel they cannot even express joy or exuberance, for if they appear happy, their sibling could get triggered and punish them. They are left on their own, and they likely carry feelings of loneliness and despair into adulthood.
It is natural for children to sometimes treat each other in aggressive or even mildly violent manners. These are ways of children to test boundaries and learn to negotiate their roles in a relationship.
In an ideal scenario, the parents would step in an assertive but kind way and teach their children the right way to communicate with each other. But some parents are not able to do that due to their own fears and anxiety.
On very rare occasions, such as when a child is born with the neuro-atypical trait of psychopathy, even when the parents try their best, the situation cannot be stopped.
Children frequently experience all three forms of abuse, emotional, physical, and sexual (Wiehe 2000). When one sibling is repeatedly abused, humiliated, and tormented, the psychological scars left on the victim will be deep and long-lasting. Sibling estrangement in these cases could even be protective.
Sadly, even amongst psychologists and therapists, sibling bullying and sibling abuse are topics that are often swept under the rug.
For a long time, psychoanalysts had focused on the trauma inflicted by parents but neglected the impact of having violent and abusive siblings.
Parents, teachers, and even professionals like social workers may trivialize or minimalize the situation as normal fighting. Many victims of abuse were unfortunately re-traumatized when they disclosed what happened, and no one believed them.
According to sibling relationships expert Avidan Milevsky, you know what you are experiencing is sibling abuse when:
• you see the same dynamic playing out in other areas of your life
• it is persistent and non-stop
• your behaviors and lifestyle patterns are changing
• the bullying sibling is spreading rumors about you that misrepresent facts
• your interactions with the sibling require long ‘contact recovery time- it takes you a long time to recover from having spent time with them
Having a Psychopathic Sibling:
Researchers have estimated about 1 percent of the adult population meets the criteria for psychopathy.
Children are usually not diagnosed with sociopathic and psychopathic disorders but conduct disorders or behavioral problems.
Signs of psychopathy, however, can often be spotted even in a person’s early life. Even a young as between the age of 2 and 4, the following may be observed in a potentially psychopathic sibling:
— They lack empathy and do not seem to care what others feel.
— They lack fear and are not intimidated by punishments.
— They lie constantly.
— They steal from their parents.
— They destroy properties or engage in violent play.
— They do not seem to feel guilty even if they hurt others.
Even as children, your psychopathic brother/sister might have stolen from you, spread rumors about you, and shown no remorse or guilt if they had hurt you.
To make matters worse, your parents were so intimated that they seemed to care only about appeasing him rather than protecting you.
As your psychopathic sibling grows up, their narcissism looms larger. They want everything for free or with little effort, and they don’t believe the rules that apply to everyone apply to them. People and spouses are simply resources to be used and exploited. They are charming and like to draw attention to themselves. They also create constant drama because they cannot stand being bored.
Unfortunately, your parents are exhausted just trying to manage them. They hardly pay any attention to you. As a close sibling or the only sibling, you may feel your life was ‘stolen’ by your psychopathic sibling. Sibling estrangement is an unfortunate and inevitable result.
The Bully and the Silenced One
When there is sibling abuse, the polarized dynamic involves a Bully and their victim, the Silenced One.
With parental neglect, the Bully has never been disciplined. Children need, and often crave, boundaries and discipline. Being able to get away with aggression and even abuse is not a blessing. The fact that the Bully is never punished is not a blessing; Not knowing what is right and what is wrong creates a chaotic and frightening world for a child. Left on their own, the Bully never learned to respect boundaries and other people. Often, the Bully was a neglected, abused, or hurt child. They feel helpless and ashamed on the inside but do not have a better way to channel their hurt other than to inflict it on their siblings.
The Silent One has learned to be silent because, all their lives, their story cannot be told. They could not tell anyone what they were going through due to threats from the Bully or the parents not believing in them. Perhaps every time they speak up, they are punished. Since sibling bullying is often underplayed and unrecognized, the victim may not be able to make sense of or tell others about their experience. Their story is buried within them but may show up as psychosomatic symptoms, bodily pain, depression, or anxiety later in life. (OR eating disorders!!)
They have learned that being silent and compliant is the only way to survive. They have never been able to learn to be assertive or stand up for their rights. So even later in life, they lack the ability to set boundaries or stand up for themselves.
Rather than rightfully expressing their anger and setting boundaries, the Silenced One blame themselves.
Many bullying victims have internalized the aggressor’s voice and become aggressive toward themselves. They experience internalized aggression as a ‘critical inner voice’. It is as though they have become their own bully, constantly criticizing and sabotaging themselves.
The Silenced One may take the psychological scars and the internalized shame into adulthood and never feel legitimate as a person. They do not believe they deserve to be loved and may sabotage opportunities and loving relationships.









Frigid temperatures. The whole world seems to have died.
Willie was spayed on Tuesday. She had 8 teeth extracted, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered by that! We’ve been spending a lot of time around the fireplace and snuggled under blankies on the couch. She has become so important to me, and everyone really, she has the biggest heart and endless amounts of love to give. A tiny kiss and a hug from her has the ability to completely melt me. She’s a tiny angel and I’m obsessed.
Magnolia has developed a strong liking for her Christmas duckie. It was given to her by her cousin, and I think that gives it a little more importance. She likes to carry it around in her mouth everywhere she goes, and sometimes throws it up in the air. I believe it is a game she created on her own, as she tends to do this.
I can never stay asleep. The middle of the night hours are my favorite. When no one else is up. I’ve been spending these hours drawing and creating different things. This is my free time, when no one else can tell me it’s wrong or not good enough, no one else has anything to say. It’s lovely. Sometimes I will do some yoga or try a new meditation, but mostly I just want to create.
The dogs don’t mind it either, they seem to be rather soothed by the soft music and sounds of the pencil to paper. I think the emptiness would be unbearable if they weren’t beside me during these times.
Because Valentine’s day is coming up, I plan to draw a scene from some of my favorite “romance” movies. I’ve never been a fan of romance anything, so I may use the term lightly in my choosing. Anyway…
This is a sort of new way of living, slowing down, I mean. I’ve been creating time for myself to slow down and doing things that are better for me. Taking long baths, just because I need to. Mindfully baking nurturing deserts for my family, being attentive to every detail. I’m no longer rushing from one thing to the next without giving any thought of how I’m feeling. It turns out, that’ll take you from bad to worse real quick.
Needless to say, I’ve joyfully welcomed 2026, as if it actually mattered what year it was. I have faith that mid-life crises only happen once. We’re on to better things.