***TRIGGER WARNING: This article discusses childhood trauma. 

I always knew something was wrong with me. The first time I asked myself that question was at the tender age of five years old. I was in kindergarten then, watching my little classmates running around, playing, and screaming with laughter as children do. But not me. I stood quietly on the sidelines watching them and wondering why can’t I play and laugh like they do? What is wrong with me? All I felt was a great sadness inside. Little did I know that it would be many long and painful years before I would finally find the answer to that question.

I am a child abuse survivor. Throughout my childhood, I was sexually, physically, and verbally abused by my close family members, the very people who should have loved and protected the most. I was born in the mid-60s, and not once was child abuse discussed at school or on TV like it is nowadays. I didn’t know that the terrifying and painful things that happened to me at home were wrong. That was just the way it was in our house.

My life has been filled with pain

Since early childhood, I have suffered from migraines, insomnia, anxiety, and depression, and those painful conditions only got worse as the years went on. It never once occurred to me that the things that happened to me at home had affected me. From as far back as I can remember, my life has been filled with pain.

Throughout grade school, middle school, and high school, several times a week, I would ask myself what was wrong with me. That question that I first asked myself when I was five years old continued to haunt me.

As I grew into adulthood, I continued to wonder what was wrong with me. Sometimes, when I really pondered that question, a little voice deep inside of me would whisper it’s from your childhood. But that’s as far as it went. I never thought about my childhood. And I mean never. It was just too painful for me to face.

All I ever wanted was to be normal. Although I really had no clear idea what “normal” was, in my limited view, it equaled happiness. And happiness to me meant feeling good, free of the mental and physical pain that had held me hostage since early childhood. I really had no idea what happiness was either since I had rarely felt that in my life. Sure, I had periods of happiness, but each time I felt happy, it was from an experience: meeting my now ex-husband, the birth of my children, traveling, shopping, going out with friends, etc. But as the newness of each experience wore off, it was back to the same mental and physical pain I had suffered with for years…and that old question that continually ran on a hamster wheel in the back of my mind, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

I was desperate to get out of the mental and physical pain that I had suffered since early childhood, but I had no idea how to make that happen. I felt like a freak.

Each morning, when I got up from a night of little sleep and a head filled with pain, I plastered a phony smile on my face with a fake it ‘til you make it attitude and did the best I could to pretend that I was “normal.” But deep down, I was dying. It took an enormous amount of effort to keep up the façade that I was living in. At the end of each day, utterly exhausted from dealing with the pain and trying to act normal, I drank myself into oblivion. For those few hours that I drank, I could forget about my life and the many struggles I faced.  After several drinks, I felt normal. But the next morning, the pain started all over again, as did the question, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? It was a vicious cycle.

Over the years, I tried many things to alleviate the mental and physical pain I was in. From acupuncture to hypnosis, counseling, sinus surgery, massage therapy, deviated septum surgery, meditation, past-life regression, aromatherapy, reading self-help books, antidepressants, sleeping pills, reiki, etc., I tried everything within my power to heal myself. I have literally spent tens of thousands of dollars in an effort to feel better, all to no avail.

When I was 51 years old, I finally started to confront my childhood. It was at this critical point in my life that I was diagnosed with C-PTSD due to years of childhood trauma.

After I was diagnosed with C-PTSD, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief knowing that I finally – FINALLY – had an answer to that question that had plagued me for years. So that’s what’s wrong with me, I thought, the trauma from my childhood and dealing with an undiagnosed mental illness that I had unknowingly suffered with for years, probably since early childhood, due to the severity of the abuse. It all made sense.

Now, what do I do to go about healing myself? To say I was motivated to find a solution was an understatement. I call this phase of my life my healing journey. From counseling to neurofeedback to EMDR therapy, to reading self-help books, to listening to hours upon hours of motivational and healing teachers on YouTube, to taking psychedelics and antidepressants, I have done everything in my power to heal myself.

Facing my childhood has been one of the most painful things I have dealt with as an adult. But as difficult as this journey has been, I am finally understanding how my past has shaped me into the person I am today and how trauma played a role in the chronic conditions I have suffered with since early childhood.

It’s been seven-and-a-half years since I started my journey of healing from the past. I have certainly learned a lot about myself and healing from childhood trauma. It’s been a very eye-opening experience. Sometimes, I wish that I had been able to face my childhood earlier in life, but I realize that I simply didn’t have the strength.

Photo by Matt Howard on Unsplash

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Morrene Hauser

Morrene Hauser currently lives in Central Ohio. For a little over 30 years she ran and operated her own business as a court reporter. Upon retirement Morrene started writing about the many wonderful animals she had while growing up and the powerful impact they have had on her life.  Morrene also writes about mental health.