Me and my TRAUMA

I was sitting in front of a navy commander. He was staring at me, I stared back with more intensity. He almost threw me out of the interview. That’s what I did in one of my SSBs.

She was looking at me. I was looking at her. We were not talking. She wanted me to kiss her, I had a gut feeling. I walked away without even saying bye.

I was writing a short story. I began weeping over the trauma of the character. I sobbed to sleep that night talking and moaning to myself over my own shitty past with my face buried into the mattress.

I had a chance to give again a test in which I had performed poorly and I knew I would do better the second time. I didn’t go.

I was asked if I had the time to go along with my parents on a vacation. I chose to go for marathon rather than that trip.

I was to participate in a martial arts tournament. I was afraid to go that time. My coach asked me to not participate and just go for casual outing. I never went. 

I was standing in front of a classroom full of folks who all were in their teens. My legs were shaking the whole time I spoke.

I got out of touch with my friend not because of a quarrel we had, but that he had said something that my father told me years ago. I was butt hurt, once again.

I didn’t have the guts to express my desire to a girl I liked. I deleted her number one night and went to sleep weeping in misery.

She was being shouted at by an asshole. I was her friend and she was being abused in front of me. I didn’t man up in time and stood there with a dozen more folks who were passively standing. She wept in front of me and went away in tears.

I had to choose between an event that I had to attend and a family ceremony. I chose the latter only to realize how regretful was that choice.

I was caressing her hair. She was caressing mine. She touched my cheeks and I shivered the whole time.

He was saying something irrelevant. I had not said what I had to say. I didn’t say anything and listened to his crap the whole time. I never confronted my father.

My class kids went to picnic. I didn’t. I never attended any fresher’s party while being in college. I wonder if I will ever turn up for my see-off party.

I went to a ceremony and every person I looked at somehow seemed better and more deserving than me. I felt small inside while I  looked at beautiful women surrounded by their near and dear ones.

He told me I was good at English. She told me I was courageous. He told me I was smart. She told me I was very intriguing and interesting. I didn’t take them for their word. Not even after I had pretty good accomplishments under my belt.

I used to be a loner bum through most of my teenage years. I wondered why anybody would be my friend let alone lover.

Last year it was new year’s night. I was at my maternal grandparents’ place. After I had finished Tucker Max’s “Hilarity Ensues”, I decided to do something drastic. I deleted the contact numbers of more than four dozen people who were neither contributing to my life in any way, shape or form nor was I contributing to their life. It felt great.


We seek answers outside when they actually lie within us

Since then, I have maintained the distance of an arm’s length from those people who are condescending, judgmental and to put simply – full of shit. I also got involved with working on my own deep psychological issues. I was in a total crap myself. A lot of the psychological issues I had revolved between and around :

  • fear of intimacy and abandonment
  • unmatched self image
  • self sabotage
  • perfectionism
  • impostor feelings
  • shame
  • unrealistic expectations
  • compulsive behaviors
  • unmindful rebelliousness
  • fear of success

I did a lot of hits and trials for getting into healing myself. Much of what I worked upon was to build real self-esteem from the inside out. It was hard. Many times I felt like giving up and being back to who I already was for years. The only reason I stayed and am still working on is because of the vision that I have. I don’t want my past experiences and beliefs to get in the way of who I want to be. I don’t want my future self to be a replica of my wounded child.

The hardest thing was not actually healing. It was getting to know that I had psychological scars and wounds from my past that were guiding my present and would have definitely molded my future if I hadn’t acted in time.

It took me about six months until I finally broke down that night. It was in August end as far as I recall. I was sobbing alone in my room and that was the moment I finally let go of my trauma. I wasn’t sexually abused. I didn’t suffer from any major accident. I didn’t have an uncaring family. But I did have my fair share of bad experiences during my early childhood and teenage years which marked the series of events that occurred in my life later on.

I’m still working on my psychology. I use different ways to heal myself by finding out what works for me rather than what has worked for others since :

  • I am not rich enough to afford therapy
  • Traditional therapy is simply talking and listening whereas trauma is emotional and it can not be verbalized

I have found over the course of past few months that there are many more people who have similar issues in their life. I would love to have your feedback via a short form I created.

Psychological Research Form

Together we can heal ourselves and let this small step be the decision that shall lead us to the limitless resilience and emotional intelligence  we have within us. I have planned to collaborate with people who want to know more about themselves and begin working on the unconscious beliefs we have.

What we do not know controls us, a wise person told once.

It takes time to unpack the beliefs that took several years to get in our psyche in the first place.

I’m giving my time. What about you?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s