[Serious] Many abuse survivors have “trauma imposter syndrome” – guilt that you’re making a big deal over nothing. What’s your story?

[Serious] Many abuse survivors have “trauma imposter syndrome” – guilt that you’re making a big deal over nothing. What’s your story?

What do you think?

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  1. Basically because I was told that I had a good childhood and was loved and I had no outside experiences to base my expectations on I had no idea that some people were happy as children.

  2. Honestly for me its not like making a big deal out of my past. I didnt even care shet happened for years to be honest. Until recently. However, Life goes on. Either you keep going or you die. Everyone experiences things differently. But there is definitely always someone who has it worse. Keep moving.

    Sexually abused by my father for years when i was a kid and i did not care at all. I can either play victim and die or make the best out of it. Learn, grow and never let this happen again.
    Never to become my father.

  3. Father murdered Mothers boyfriend. In prison til I was 24.
    Mom went to jail for drugs at the same time. Lived with relatives till she got out then it was a series of step-dads crawling into bed with me til I was 18. A lot of other stuff in between but I am the minimizing queen. As long as I didn’t end up in the hospital bloody it wasn’t trauma.
    A lifetime of mental illness,drug and alcohol abuse resulting in homelessness begs to differ. I’m sober now 3 and half years and recently housed and working through it.
    I still feel like I’m ” faking” it.

  4. My dad beat me a lot, but when I was little, I also wasn’t allowed to interact with people outside the family, so I didn’t really have a frame of reference. It was just how things were, and I kind of assumed it was like that for everyone. There were occasional exceptions, but those families weren’t much better than ours.

    Eventually, they got sick of homeschooling, so they sent me to a tiny Catholic school in the middle of nowhere. From there, I could tell that my peers weren’t afraid of their parents, but I didn’t actually meet the parents. I could tell that their relationship was different, but I didn’t understand why, and I was too anxious to ask.

    My parents didn’t want to shell out for private high school, so I went to the nearby public school after that. Through it, I was able to meet some of the parents through extracurricular activities and such. I recognized that they didn’t beat their children, and that it was different. This was still before I was willing to say that my parents beat me, so I wouldn’t have necessarily said that they were bad parents though.

    It wasn’t until college that I was telling people “funny stories from my childhood”, and they’re tell me those were actually child abuse stories. I did a little reading about what exactly constitutes child abuse, and sure enough, there it was. I still didn’t say that my parents beat me back then. Instead I would describe what exactly they did, and see how my audience responded and if they considered it “beating” or not.

    Eventually I got comfortable just saying that my dad beat me, since it was too awkward to explain what specifically that meant in each story.

    So that was how I figured out that, yes, I was abused as child, and yes, that’s bad.

    The only other thing is that sometimes when people hear “abusive parent” they think “sexual abuse”, and that’s just not accurate. Dad was bad enough on his own without exaggerating or making stuff up.

  5. When I was 6 an older boy at my boarding school molested me. We got caught and I got in trouble too because the school didn’t believe me. That shit fucked me up for life.

  6. my friend sometimes loses it and starts breaking my stuff and punching me all the time, now when i think hes getting angry i try to make jokes and it usually calms him down, i always feel like he loses it over nothing, and it hurts so bad because he smashes expensive tv’s, breaks my glasses regularly, and i alway have to take the bill, cant remember my point, just wanted to vent

  7. Too long to share my whole story, but I used to gaslight myself into thinking it was “no big deal,” but then the worse, repressed memories started resurfacing. Like, when I was forced to drink half a gallon of water in one seating; or how I was locked in the basement every other weekend with no food other than the candy I smuggled in from my mother’s house and the cereal I’d get at 4am before anyone woke up, no electronics other than a CD player, just the same books I read over and over again including but not limited to *Sexual Homicide Partterns and Motives* by John E. Douglas.

  8. If I got sick, I had either done something to get sick or I was faking it. I still feel guilty when I’m too sick to work.

    Got jumped/walking home? I must have been starting shit, no one gets robbed without it being their fault.

    As a teen, saw a guy shot when he was feet away from me. I could have got hit. The blowback stained my clothing. “Ok. Don’t tell your mother”

    “Why don’t you talk to your family?”

  9. My therapist had me involuntarily hospitalized because of a misunderstanding.

    When I came back traumatized, she and my parents tried to convince me that what happened was just a tiny, insignificant mistake. For a long time, I was really angry with myself for being so broken up over something that was apparently “no big deal.”

    I eventually found an online support group for people who had similar experiences, and I realized that I wasn’t overreacting, I was *traumatized.*

  10. The short form:

    I was subjected to psychological abuse, emotional neglect, and broken homes all through my childhood. Nothing was ever good enough [a ‘2nd in the nation’ trophy was met with ‘Why didn’t you win?’], the pressure to perform was so immense I had my first nervous breakdown in 6th grade, domestic violence and domestic disturbance were regular occurrences, my mother’s idea of ‘masculine’ was based on her own abusive father and she tried to humiliate/emasculate me (both publicly and privately) into ‘toughening up’ and fitting that mold, and for about a decade it got really bad with even physical lashings-out [which I only recently connected may have been roid rage from an aggressive steroids-to-shrink-a-tumor cancer treatment].

    The imposter syndrome hits hard because while the experience fucked me up for life, it’s called ‘psychological scarring’ because scars never heal, you can only learn to move in ways that cause them to ache and pull less often…I was in my late 20s/early 30s before I stopped flinching every time someone moved their hands a little too fast, struggle with emotional connections, am constanatly worried that my friends aren’t my friends and are just too polite to tell me to fuck off, am hyper aware of every little failing and every little way I let people down, and am generally a hot mess.

    Yet…

    I was never thrown down a staircase, locked in a closet for days on end, intentionally starved, bruised/bloodied/bones broken, never experienced the worst of the worst…I see so many other people’s horror stories and immediately get self conscious about how what I went through pales in comparison.

  11. I’ve lost career over some rumours that I was “racist”.

    Nothing can be done with that. People witchhunted, witchhunt, and will witchhunt as long as they exist. You can’t even prove that you aren’t racist, because how? They won’t even listen to any argument, they’ll just ask you to leave or they’ll call the police.

    The funny part – if the entire world turned completely racist and tolerance wouldn’t be accepted by societies, I’d be witchhunted for being “not racist”. The only way to fix that would be to make society acceptive of racism without being racist (balanced views), but then they’d find some other trait to witchhunt.

  12. mentally and physically abused by my “mother” and her fiancé. called dcf and cps came multiple times and did nothing. sister moved away once she turned 18 from MA to florida and i started thinking i was making it all up, that i was over dramatic because that’s what they had told me my whole life. just doubting it and saying i was in the wrong

  13. My sister tells me I had a good childhood because she lost hers to babysit me, whereas my memories are feeling left abandoned by my parents and left with a sister who resented me because I stole her teenage years. The only memories that I remember are bad ones – the dad coming home drunk and yelling. The fights between my sister and brother and I. I try to remember good ones but they feel few and far inbetween.

    Recently my mom found some family video tapes that had my dad taking care of me when I was about 2. He seemed like such a good dad. It seemed like he loved me so much. It made me question everything I knew about him.

    I may not have had a psychically abusive household, but my household did so much psychological damage to me. And I’m basically told I’m making it up and sometimes I wonder if I am, if I want something that makes me different and special. But I don’t feel different and special – I feel broken and like I’ll never truly be okay.

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