Having CPSTD I can remember the day, where I was at, roughly how old I was ( child.) When that seed of CPSTD took root. I remember the pain of that small child crying out to a imagined “god” figure. Asking WHY. Why did you put me on this earth if I was just made to suffer. WHY was I made so incorrect. I wished for the final end. I prayed for it. Then I remember the feelings that washed over me as I felt. I wasn’t going make it out of that house alive, it would be because of them.
I had no one. There was no one to help or protect, to believe a child who said many times. Trying to get any adult to listen SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT WITH MY MOM. MY MOM IS NOT NORMAL. The brush off I would receive. I was made to be the scapegoat. I was made to be seen as crazy so you would never believe the crazy horrible truths. That is when CPSTD took it’s full hold. Not that anything was normal before, but surely hasn’t been “normal” since. While I know I no longer in the that place, those people are far gone. I have gone no contact. However I am still trapped in my own mind at times in a prison only I fully know & understand.
Written on September 13, 2024