Trigger warning: trauma, abuse, kidnapping, graphic nightmares, mental health
Tell me why I just woke up from a nightmare when I haven’t remembered a dream in at least ten years? My anxiety has been kicking my butt this past year, and I know most of the world understands.
But while the average person has been stressed over a worldwide panini, I have been dealing with my own personal trauma dealt to me by people I loved who had good intentions. But I guess there’s a reason they say the road to hell is paved in the best of intentions. And oh god, is that saying ironic.
About a year ago I received an email that sent me on a journey that’s changed a lot in my mind and my life. I was asked if I wanted to talk about what happened to me as a kid. Tell my side of the story. My story isn’t done yet, but I have so much to say. I agreed, but with a lot of hesitation. A year and several conversations later I’m pretty sure I made the correct decision.
But in the process of trying to put my small child memories in order, I made an effort to find out more about the adults that put me in that situation. And what I found sent me straight into looking for a therapist because I badly needed to put order to the jumble of feelings I didn’t realize I had lurking in my mind.
I can gladly say that my therapist realized what I needed and is pushing me to be a stronger person. I’ve also seen a psychiatrist and she’s very supportive and has been helpful in finding me ways to deal with my anxiety. I promise I’ll write about that another time.
But in my effort to understand my life, I went down a rabbit hole of information. Sometimes educating yourself is a little disappointing. I looked into the Satanic Panic of the 80s, and found several sources that not only spoke about it it in a religious hysteria context, but others that explained how it evolved and became the basis of what we know today as the Qanon movement.
Now, if you know anything about me or have just skimmed my other posts, you know that I despise conspiracy theories down to my very core. If I could set fire to the ‘save the children’ movement, I’d do it gleefully while all the Karens wailed in their Ugg boots and skinny soy lattes.
But to learn that the thing that caused me so much trauma was still alive and kicking, and had been turned into this living and breathing MONSTER that was actively getting people killed by its blind followers? If you know the word for what that feels like, let me know because I’m not sure they’ve invented it yet.
And what makes this worse for me, my sister is really into this bullshit. It was never a problem for me before. She was into aliens or crystals, and the only thing I really worried about was having to listen to her YouTube videos about different alien dimensions or whatever. She thought Doctor Who was real, and hey. At least it got her to watch it with me. But now she talks about real lizard people eating kids and doesn’t want to vaccinate her’s because Bill Gates wants to eat their livers. While sending me links to racist rhetoric on her google supported phone.
And since I’ve realized how much of this she actually believes, and now that I know it’s based on the hysteria that got me kidnapped, I find myself in a very awkward situation.
When my grandparents kidnapped me, they didn’t just inflict that trauma on me. My siblings also had to deal with the situation from their own perspective. And when I tell you that my sister was traumatized and angry at them for what happened, I mean it. We had to go through an entire emotional ordeal together because of how this event made her feel growing up. It made us very close.
And now I have the dilemma that she’s eyeballs deep into the next evolution of the conspiracy cult that got me kidnapped and traumatized all of us, and she doesn’t realize it. What the fuck do I do?
I’ve always said that I can give her advice and she’ll still do whatever she wants, because that’s the way she is. And you have to have a certain level of psychological whatsit to believe lizard people are running around in human skin suits.
So if I sit here down and tell her she’s gotten herself into the same shit as my child stealing grandparents she may not care. She may literally justify it by making something up and just blithely moving on with her life, because if it’s one thing this girl has it’s the *AUDACITY* and I’m tired just thinking about it.
After two days of realizing this, and worrying about what I should do, I had a full blown nightmare about the stuff I used to be told about child sacrifices to the devil as a kid. I won’t describe it, and I hope I forget it sooner rather than later.
How am I almost 40 and still dealing with this stupid, stupid bullshit?