Long story short, Mom’s not taking the gender transition thing well, she said some things that were deliberately hurtful to try to bully me into not “replacing her son,” and that put me in a very bad place emotionally.
On the plus side, her reaction- written, for once so I have a paper trail now- has pretty much proven that she has an abusive personality and likes to manipulate people by knowing exactly how to hit where it hurts, and that I wasn’t just blaming her for my problems out of a moral failure like she wanted me to believe. Granted, she’s not the only one; I’ve had coworkers, roommates, ex-friends, and even a college dean pull the same mind games on me in just the last five years alone.
On the down side, I’ve been triggered again. I feel that same anxiety building in me day by day, and I’m starting to go emotionally numb again. I’m not sleeping very well. I can’t focus on coursework and my hearing is really acute, which makes me jumpy when I’m out and about because every sound makes my fight or flight response go wild. I feel like a wild animal, I can’t trust anyone.
The past life memories that often come when I’m triggered nowadays are a bit troubling, and a new development that is hard to explain since I’ve been having this same basic type of meltdowns since I was in grade school, but never with a sense of having had past lives.
As I see it, there are only two ways to explain this: either I’ve actually had such horrific trauma that I’ve blasted through to past lives or some collective consciousness of pathos, or I’ve had PTSD much of my life and I’ve been triggered so badly and so often in recent years that I’ve begun to lose my grip on reality. Fortunately, enough details I’ve recalled about John’s life matched verifiable facts about him that I can give myself the benefit of the doubt for now. Unfortunately, that means that whatever these memories are, I have to live with the prospect that there may be more of them, and worse to come. I’ve already recalled such horrible things… I don’t look forward to these flashbacks at all.
Hopefully this is a sign I’m finally getting to very old past life traumas, and not a sure sign I’m going crazy.
John experienced much worse than I ever did, by the way, and I feel ashamed saying I had a bad life when I think of his life. And yet, I can’t ignore that 29 years of being invalidated by someone is enough to make anyone disturbed. Comparing traumas is the trap I fell into when I first started having these symptoms again and refused to recognize them as PTSD because I felt like if I claimed I was traumatized, I’d seem like a spoiled child of privilege overreacting to hurt feelings. I didn’t want to feel a bad Millennial stereotype of a self-pitying brat, so I tried to play it off and work through it, but it got worse and worse.
When your emotions get so out of control that nothing in the world changes your downward spiral, it is a bad sign no matter what. I should have known that and not assumed it was just a deflated ego.