My journey through trauma and mental health struggles is a complex, long-term reality. I learned pragmatically that the worst life choices, including anger, addiction, frustration, and impulsive decisions, fundamentally originate from my past.
I was born into a "pretty strange family" where my parents were "exact polar opposites," leading to constant drama. I was the first child, and I observed a lot of the conflict. My mother, dealing with her own trauma, abuse, and mental health issues, sometimes lost control, and I took "a lot of heat". Culturally, I was expected to excel but often felt like "the worst," compounding the difficulty. Meanwhile, my father was focused on providing for the "entire village," rather than prioritizing our nuclear family.
The need for escape led me to reading, but even this coping mechanism was tainted. Starting around age 11 or 12, I endured repeated abuse from a neighbor for about one or two years. To cope, I would dissociate, keeping myself immersed "inside the history" of books (like Jules Verne) to avoid adding more problems to the existing family crises. I later realized that my impulsive actions, such as stealing money and running away, were subconscious attempts to seek attention.
When I left home for Australia, I finally tasted freedom, but I lacked the skills necessary for making decisions on my own. This lack of self-direction, combined with ADHD developed at an early age, resulted in me messing up big time, including taking seven years to complete a four-year degree. Desperate for love and acceptance, I engaged in heavy drinking and cocaine use, a self-destructive path that nearly destroyed me.
The definitive crisis occurred in France (or Union Island) when three huge events converged, leaving me "physically, mentally cooked": the death of my father, managing a severely insecure and potentially manipulative boss (possibly narcissistic or bipolar), and the birth of my daughter.
The birth of my daughter activated a "parental instinct," which kicked me into action. My objective became clear: I had to seek treatment to prevent giving her the "exact same childhood" I had, realizing it was time to stop the cycle of "generous trauma" that had run from my great-grandparents to me.
The path to recovery involved intense, pragmatic steps over the following year. I consulted several specialists, undergoing a brain scan, heart checkups, seeing a psychiatrist and a psychologist, and starting anti-depressants (for about eight months now). My treatment included "retelling therapy," which sometimes brought back memories that made me feel like I was "lying or talking about somebody else". My psychologist views the emergence of these emotions as a sign that I am moving in the right direction.
I am no longer suicidal or depressed. Physically, my body has changed; I went from 64kg to 76kg as I left "fight or flight" mode and stopped burning energy on constant stress.
However,
I am deeply fatigued, feeling the accumulated stress and trauma of years. Learning to "just be chilled out" and stay calm is exhausting, like learning a new language.
My identity is in transition. I am now analyzing myself, but the "current me" is unfamiliar. My past hobbies, such as photography and writing, which served as coping mechanisms to hide stress, are currently neglected.
I still struggle with danger management problems and motivation issues. I worry that my body keeps the score, manifesting chronic anxiety, depression, ADHD, and potential future health troubles like cardiac arrest or stroke.
I recognize that trauma profoundly interrupts the plot of one's life. Healing is not about returning to an "old draft" of myself but about embracing the complexity of my scars and revising to write new narratives. I focus daily on self-leadership, ensuring my Self takes charge and manages the burdens of the past. I understand that I am not just attempting to return to normalcy, but to develop an entirely new existence.
