Denial. The name of this game. Survivors, whom, experience the downloads or regressions, are in such shock at the moment of trauma. That our brains can’t compute the memory so it hides it. Falsely giving one the feeling the trauma ever happened. basically, your brain puts that memory in your spam box.
I remember a week after my fist attack. I had completely regressed the worst part of my attack. My family knew more had happened however, I searched my brain for the details, with no avail. I literately tried to think but nothing happened. Till the mother of all downloads happened to me. I remember being at the top of the stairs in my parents home. the memories hit me like a title wave. pouring in like water in an empty vase. the memories not caring how overfilled I felt. I actually held on to the rail and fell to my knees.
If this happens to you stabilize yourself so you don’t fall. then Immediately breath in trough the nose and out through the mouth. This is a very emotional moment. And reactions may very. However the shock can knock us off our feet.
People witnessing this just be there and understand they may not want to talk. bring them a cold wash cloth. however, follow your survivors lead.
When this is over you may want to describe it in detail to your medical team. remember this is a normal reaction to an event that was abnormal. Be kind you yourself.
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I’m old now and the abusers have passed away. I figured there isn’t much more for me to do since I was a therapist for 15 years and focused on living the best life I could live. Then I was the victim of a carjacking crime this year. I felt frozen and afraid to leave my house for awhile. One day I decided that I must go out every day. I felt awful but I made myself do it. I got to the corner store and broke down crying coming home. I clearly needed to talk with someone. We discussed the crime I lived through this year, but we are mostly working through the childhood trauma of having to witness my father torture my mother. As a boy I often had to run to the store because Mom and was black and blue all over her face and too ashamed to go outside. I started running errands for Mom when I was five years old and it didn’t end until Dad kicked me out of the house at 17. I was able to leave that hellish home. Mom never did. I can honestly say I don’t think I ever saw her experience moments of joy. It breaks my heart.
Abuse affects you for life. All you can do is learn how to live with it, as I see things. Thank you for a good web site.
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