Broken

Throughout my childhood, my father’s cruelty continued. After awhile, the way he vented his rage on me changed. I think it may have been a call from the school about the marks found on me. The beatings didn’t completely stop but the behavior shifted. He started to force me into positions that created significant pain. If I tried to come out of the position, he would hit me or threaten some other violence. At this point in my life, I knew how violent he could be. It wasn’t uncommon for him to leave me in these positions for hours. It wasn’t until recently that I had one of those “Holy crap” moments when I read this:

“What is positional torture?

Positional torture refers to a type of torture where the victim is forced to remain in a fixed position for an extended period of time varying from minutes to hours or even days (1). The positions may consist of standing on the toes, standing with arms stretched out or they can be unnatural or contorted positions. Victims of positional torture hold the positions out of fear of the consequences of disobedience.”

Danish Institute Against Torture

Up until that moment, I had not fully understood the depth of my father’s actions.

My body healed from the physical wounds and the pain eventually faded. However, the physical abuse torture also had a profound and lasting affect on the mind of a growing and developing child.

In addition to the physical abuse, the mental abuse became more and more prevalent. He wasn’t satisfied with mere physical pain. He strove to tear me apart with his words. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. Every accomplishment I made was dismissed as worthless. At some point, I began to believe I was truly worthless and would never measure up. Because of this, I gave up on many things.

All of this caused my brain to wire itself differently. As a child, I was biologically wired to seek comfort from my parents- as all children are. This caused a critical conflict for me. I had a biological drive to seek closeness from the very source of the terror I was trying to escape. It caused me to develop an unhealthy attachment style.

A child growing up in a healthy environment develops a secure attachment style. For a child to develop this style of attachment, the parents need not be perfect but good-enough at being consistent. By being good-enough, the child will develop secure emotional bonds. The child will feel safe and protected. The parents are generally emotionally present and the child feels accepted. As that child grows into an adult, they have the capability to easily become close with others and develop positive relationships. They will feel comfortable with closeness while also maintaining independence. These adults also have the ability to recognize and manage their emotions properly.

For me, this was not the case. While my father was abusive, my mother was emotionally unavailable. It wasn’t really her fault. She also suffered at the hands of my father. The abuse she suffered began on her wedding night. I believe the abuse she suffered under left her hollow and emotionally unavailable. All of these early experiences left me with a mixture of attachment styles.

Early on in therapy, I had a counselor ask me to answer a set of questions:

• Do you feel emotionally removed from others?
• Do you try to distance yourself from stressful situations or conflict?
• When you’re away from loved ones, do you feel closer to them?
• Do you feel the urge to pull away when your partner is seeking intimacy?

For me, I answered yes to each of these questions. My answers to these questions pointed to me having an Avoidant Attachment style. As a child, I was forced to grow up quickly and both of my parents were not there emotionally for me. My father consistently held expectations for me as a child that some adults don’t even posses. Because of all of this, I had to become an adult at an early age. Now as a true adult with this attachment style, I have difficulty depending on anyone. I do everything myself and have become talented at achieving difficult task on my own. When I start to get close to someone, I will often pull away.

In addition to this attachment style, I also exhibit all the characteristics of the Disorganized Attachment style. I was also asked the following questions by my therapist:

• Was a parent (or parents) abusive?
• Did you parent(s) show love one minute and abuse the next?
• Do you crave emotional intimacy but also believe it is safer to be on you own?

For each of these questions, I also answered yes. I wouldn’t say that my father ever showed love, but there were times he was human. However, in the next second he could be blowing hot rage into my face. The Disorganized Attachment style can be a combination of attachment styles. This style of attachment is the primary style of attachment for most people with Complex PTSD.

What does all this mean? Emotional regulation is not built into us. This is something that is taught to us in childhood and practiced throughout life. Because I was robbed of learning these skills growing up, I have difficulty with regulating my emotions. Without the ability to regulate my emotions, I have difficulty creating or maintaining healthy relationships. Life’s ups and downs can have significant impacts on me.

If I had grown up in a loving or good-enough environment, I could have developed the skills for emotional regulation. For me this emotional regulation is very difficult to learn now. Having grown up in this abusive environment left me with an avoidant and disorganized attachment style. I was often left feeling overwhelmed and unsafe. I find myself either becoming completely numb (hypoarousal) or overly vigilant (hyperarousal). These are protections I have created for myself. These protections do not serve me well in a relationship. However, there are some benefits to these. I am rarely if ever unaware of my surroundings. This has saved my life more than once. When in a traumatic situation, I can go completely and utterly emotionally numb. This has also served me more than once while working in the ER.

I didn’t create these defense mechanisms. My father is responsible for these. They are more a curse than a gift. As a method to survive in the environment he created, I learned to never miss anything – the sound of footfalls down a hall, a slight change in a facial expression before the rage hit, his sweat stink left behind in a room. All these things, including the ability to go emotionally numb and to mentally go somewhere else while being beaten were necessary protections to survive.

I am currently working to create a more secure attachment style through the work I am doing with my therapist. It isn’t easy and I often lose hope of ever being able to change. From what my therapist has told me, and my own research, it is possible. This won’t be a quick thing. Complex PTSD is simply not something that can be corrected over the course of a few months. This is going to take awhile. It is going to take practice. It is going to take compassion – compassion for myself.