Two months into the new year, and I’m already hoping it ends soon.
The last two months have been rough, to say the least. So rough that I’ve had multiple panic attacks and more mental breakdowns despite therapy, medication, and support.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I realized something.
I was falling back into old habits. Coping mechanisms from my childhood.
Most people who know me think I’m a bold, strong, hyper-independent woman. And to be fair to myself, that’s partly true. But what I’ve started to realize is that my hyper-independence came from trauma.
It came from growing up feeling like I had to do everything myself, for myself, with little to no support.
My family did their best. They truly did. But they also caused me a lot of trauma that I still deal with today.
The Memories That Stay
I always joke that I have the memory of a goldfish.
But that isn’t entirely true.
The painful moments from my childhood and adulthood? I remember every single one of them vividly.
The happy memories, though… there aren’t many. And most of the ones I do remember come from the time I spent with my grandfather.
Who I am today is a testament to the values, strength, morals, and principles he instilled in me.
If it wasn’t for him, I truly don’t think I would be here today. I would have given up a long time ago.
He died when I was about ten years old. And after that, in many ways, I raised myself by holding on to the things he taught me.
My parents and family were there in their own way. But the person who shaped the core of who I am was him.
Growing Up Feeling Like You’re “Too Much”
My family were not cruel or horrible people. They were human. They made mistakes.
But those mistakes left scars that I carry to this day.
I grew up hearing things like:
- I was hard to love
- I was hard to be around
- I talked too much
- I was “too much” to handle
And this didn’t come from just one place. It came from friends, family, and acquaintances.
Was I a perfect person? Of course not.
But did I deserve to constantly hear those things, even when I wasn’t the one to blame?
No.
How Childhood Trauma Shows Up in Adulthood
The result of all of that?
As an adult, I struggle to believe that I’m capable of being loved by someone.
I spend a lot of time alone because a part of me believes people don’t really want me around.
I stay quiet unless I’m extremely comfortable with someone — which, as expected, is very rare.
I struggle to maintain friendships. Familial relationships are complicated. And romantic relationships feel like a far-fetched dream that I can’t quite bring myself to believe in.
I can’t believe someone could like me.
Let alone love me.
The Day My World Changed
I used to be a happy, talkative kid.
I loved talking. I loved doing things with my grandfather. I loved spending time with him.
And then he died.
When that happened, my world collapsed.
It felt like the ground beneath my feet had disappeared. I lost a piece of myself — my sense of safety, my sense of peace, and the feeling of being loved unconditionally.
I’ve had happy moments since then, of course.
But I’ve never felt that same kind of peace again.
When Old Coping Mechanisms Return
Recently, life has pushed me back into old habits — habits I thought therapy and medication had helped me move past.
The constant gut issues.
The migraines.
The sleeplessness.
The loss of appetite.
The isolation.
And the way I bury myself in something — anything — just so I don’t have to think.
Sometimes I feel like I’m that same scared little kid again, standing alone as I watched my grandfather’s coffin being lowered into the ground.
It felt like my entire world was buried with him.
Trying to Heal the Child Within
Do I believe things will get better?
I honestly don’t know.
Do I hope they will?
Yes.
When I look back at my life now, I realize just how much my childhood shaped who I am today — the good, the bad, and the ugly.
So much of who I am comes from what I went through as a child and young adult.
Right now, I’m trying to heal the child inside me.
Because I’m hoping that if the child heals, the adult will too.
For Anyone Who Had a Difficult Childhood
If you’re reading this and you had a rough childhood, I’m sorry.
But if I can keep going, so can you.
Don’t let your childhood define you.
I refuse to let mine define me.
And I hope you refuse to let yours break you.
There is always a tiny spark, even in the darkest moments.
Hold on to that spark.
One day, we’ll find the light at the end of the tunnel.
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