*Triggers Possible* Running away
Mikhail098
Registrant
Today in therapy I talked about running away.
After incidents at home, I would leave without notice, take the train to another city. I would call a friend on the train, asking to stay with them for a few days. They didn’t really have a choice, because I was already on my way. Sometimes, but rarely I was turned away at the door. Those times I had to figure out an outdoor shelter…
One time, I had to “argue” with a stray dog over his shelter so I could stay there that night. It is funny looking back on it, but I was so frustrated and desperate to just hide somewhere. So much that I aggravated a dog with sharp teeth, not thinking rationally at all.
I still feel terrible for the burdens I caused my friends and their families, my therapist explained I was just a kid trying to escape my problems.
At those times, it felt like I didn’t have a choice. I acted on impulse, crawled away from my family bruised and ashamed just needing to hide away from his rage for a few days, until he simmered down… sometimes, whoever I was running from (grandfather or father) would continue to be angry even after I returned. I would come back all timid and apologetic, ready to please and be submissive, but I could be beaten once I showed my face again, beaten so bad and I wouldn’t fight back I would just let him beat me into the corner. He would throw me out of the house, even in the winter, I had huddled under some cover from the snow and the cold, curl up in a ball and just sob. Snot and tears to warm up my face.
Most of all, I ran away so I would be able to sleep. I just wanted somewhere safe to sleep. I was so so tired. And after I could sleep and eat something warm I would go back where I belonged, enthusiastically suck his dick as apology.
As I talked about it in therapy, I felt my voice breaking, it feels like my heart is breaking, but I could not cry.
I’m back home, still feeling the heaviness of those times and the guilt. The desperation to be able to rest, the overwhelming exhaustion is more traumatic than those punishments. I must be feeling emotional, because I can be too stressed to rest recently.
Now I finally have a safe bed and I take care of myself. I can’t help to feel incredibly guilty when I ask for help, even when I just talk to my therapist, sometimes it is shameful like when I was begging for a place to stay. It hurts, because I’m in a better place now, and don’t feel it’s right to look for help. I wish for stability.
I’m just trying to let it out and manage all these feelings.
This summer I had made the impulse decision to run away from something and I stayed with a friend for a few days. She was kind, but I was a wreck. On the train, I felt like I was 14 years old again. I hate to have been seen so vulnerable.
These are some of my guilts, not of being abused but of being too weak to handle it well.
After incidents at home, I would leave without notice, take the train to another city. I would call a friend on the train, asking to stay with them for a few days. They didn’t really have a choice, because I was already on my way. Sometimes, but rarely I was turned away at the door. Those times I had to figure out an outdoor shelter…
One time, I had to “argue” with a stray dog over his shelter so I could stay there that night. It is funny looking back on it, but I was so frustrated and desperate to just hide somewhere. So much that I aggravated a dog with sharp teeth, not thinking rationally at all.
I still feel terrible for the burdens I caused my friends and their families, my therapist explained I was just a kid trying to escape my problems.
At those times, it felt like I didn’t have a choice. I acted on impulse, crawled away from my family bruised and ashamed just needing to hide away from his rage for a few days, until he simmered down… sometimes, whoever I was running from (grandfather or father) would continue to be angry even after I returned. I would come back all timid and apologetic, ready to please and be submissive, but I could be beaten once I showed my face again, beaten so bad and I wouldn’t fight back I would just let him beat me into the corner. He would throw me out of the house, even in the winter, I had huddled under some cover from the snow and the cold, curl up in a ball and just sob. Snot and tears to warm up my face.
Most of all, I ran away so I would be able to sleep. I just wanted somewhere safe to sleep. I was so so tired. And after I could sleep and eat something warm I would go back where I belonged, enthusiastically suck his dick as apology.
As I talked about it in therapy, I felt my voice breaking, it feels like my heart is breaking, but I could not cry.
I’m back home, still feeling the heaviness of those times and the guilt. The desperation to be able to rest, the overwhelming exhaustion is more traumatic than those punishments. I must be feeling emotional, because I can be too stressed to rest recently.
Now I finally have a safe bed and I take care of myself. I can’t help to feel incredibly guilty when I ask for help, even when I just talk to my therapist, sometimes it is shameful like when I was begging for a place to stay. It hurts, because I’m in a better place now, and don’t feel it’s right to look for help. I wish for stability.
I’m just trying to let it out and manage all these feelings.
This summer I had made the impulse decision to run away from something and I stayed with a friend for a few days. She was kind, but I was a wreck. On the train, I felt like I was 14 years old again. I hate to have been seen so vulnerable.
These are some of my guilts, not of being abused but of being too weak to handle it well.
