My parents divorced when I was as old as nineteen, so I probably can’t blame that for the way I am. I was a late developer, so chances are I was still a child. But I left to go into the big-bad-beast we call the-world all the same, so I must have been kinda grown up.
I get the feeling that I was an unplanned child, so I can probably claim that as trauma. The feeling itself might not be based on fact (although my parents were quite young when I came along and I can’t seem to figure out whether they married before or after I was conceived), but the fact that I am feeling them is reason enough to call myself traumatised. I guess.
Was I beaten? No. I was cuffed around the head a few times, but I wouldn’t call it a sustained attack. I was as naughty as any child, I guess. Although, on reflection, it didn’t feel like naughty. It all felt normal from the inside. But then again – doesn’t it always? I guess I was upset because I wanted the rights of an adult as a child. I didn’t want to feel ‘wrong’ just because the ‘right’ person was bigger than me.
Was I starved? No. I ate as much as I needed to eat. There was always food. I was given access to too much sugar and it probably made me hyperactive (which probably looked like ‘naughty’ to my parents). Choices. I always had choices. I don’t remember being forced to eat anything that I didn’t want to eat.
Was I abused? Prolly not. I have some gaps, but I hesitate to fill them with abuse. That’s an unknown for me. There has to be something that made me the way I am (kinda friable). But I think that it’s a mistake to go looking for easy-answers.
Childhood trauma seems to be largely absent from my life … and actually, adult trauma seems to be rare too. So what’s going on inside me, then! Does everyone feel confused about how the world works?