Looking back on my childhood, I had attitude to say the least, I was an very adventurous, mischievous child with a lot of hate for myself and for… well most things but filled with passion. I had a wild imagination, I had long winded conversations with my dog and invisible friends, I was always told how creative I am and loved to write stories with my pictures and my words, but I couldn’t concentrate at school, I would struggle to be on time and finishing my tasks was a rarity. I would hide under my blankets at night with my Gameboy, to drown out the screaming and thuds from down the hallway, to lesson my stomach dropping, to create a bit of static over the racing thoughts that kept me awake at night or keep me from the violent twisted nightmares that haunted me each night that I did slept. Gameboys had no backlight back then so my mother didn’t suspect a thing when she came in to check on me in my dark room, if it wasnt a Gameboy it was a book, but with a torch at hand I would lose insomniac mind to an imaginary land, so I didn’t have to face my own.

Then as I grew older, I didn’t see risky behaviour like running in front of cars and climbing rooftops as dangerous, it was my fun. I struggled to keep friends, I would sneak out my window in the middle of the night and I would often drop to levels of sadness and rage that scared the “child me”. Who would have thought it was humanly possible for those to feelings to intensify.

As a teenager I was hospitalised, following a poisonous relationship that well and truly broke me. One I should have cut short long before I did!!!!! I suppose growing up with violent narcissist for a father leaves an imprint. Time and time again I found myself gravitating towards the familiar feeling of neglect and manipulation until it capsized me. This was when I was diagnosed with my Bipolar 2 Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. I speculate this caused a chemical shift. However, as much as I want to blame certain events or people; I have discovered I suffer from a complex version PTSD, layer upon layer trauma that has a physical impact on my brains structure so between that and my underlyng biological framework, I wasnt off to a good start from the get go. My family has a strong history of mental illness and unfortunate upbringings.

So, whether my major trigger was a result of an ex partner, who resurfaced things that I didn’t know were there, whether it be due to the early exposure of domestic violence and an unstable home, being a victim of abuse myself, or something else unsavory that I have had to endure… I question the inevitability of becoming triggered. I think I certainly struggled longer than I knew, it’s just been sitting there in neutral or over the years forgotten about during a period where I had consistent and understanding supports who provided the stability I need to balance out.

So this is what I struggle with on a daily basis. My blog is my release, its my way of helping others and if you have taken the time to gain a better understanding and want to help yourself or others. Please show your support by following.

My beginning doesn’t; need to be my end.

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