Healing it, not Hiding it

"Trauma is anything that overwhelms the brain's ability to cope."-unknown

When I think of my childhood I think about playing outside with my cousins. I remember learning to cook with my grandma. My favorite memories were at school carnivals when I would make cake for the cake walk even though I never won a cake from it. I had a pretty decent childhood. It seemed normal to me. I never realized my childhood left me with some pretty deep, unhealed wounds, that showed their ugly face when I was the most vulnerable, after having a baby.

Mature. This is the word I think of when I think of little girl Karysa. In almost every situation, I was always “wise beyond my years”. I had to grow up pretty fast. My mom had me young and out of wedlock. My father, I only met long enough for my little sister to be created. Growing up in a single parent home, watching my mom struggle to balance having a life outside of kids and wanting to be a good mom was difficult. Mentally she didn’t have the capacity to do it all. She struggled with depression my whole life. I was always worried about her not making it home to take care of us. When she had a rough day, she would shut down and ignore us. I would step up to help so she felt better. I was able to take care of my younger siblings and help my mom. I never thought this was a bad thing. I was the big sister, it was my job to help and guide my siblings. It was a role I gladly took on. I had to grow up and help my mom to be strong a lot. It was something I always took pride in. I was able to be like the adults. Every kid wants to sit at the adult table, and I was doing it. I was an “old soul”, I loved being able to act older than I was. I would take over where I could. I learned to cook, bake, clean, etc. I felt like an adult, and I really wanted to be an adult young. I wanted to know all the adult jokes, to go to the fun beach walks at night, and to be apart of the "secret" adult talk. I acted like a grown up so I would be included. That never worked though. In the adults eyes I was always the kid trying too hard to be an adult. I felt like an imposter. This gave me "imposter syndrome". I started doubting my accomplishments/talents and internalized the fear of being exposed as a "fraud." Now, I still am battling feeling like an imposter. I really struggle when trying to spread the word of postpartum depression and anxiety. I feel like I am not educated enough to talk about these issues. Who wants to listen to me, a stay-at-home mother without a college degree? Why would anyone want to learn from me? This was a huge hurdle I had to overcome to even start this process.

My mom never really left the dating scene and was constantly looking for a guy to be our "dad." These guys were RARELY fit to be a boyfriend, let alone a dad figure. The guys were typically in and out of prison and rarely had consistent jobs. I was often embarrassed by the guys my mom dated. A lot of my friends and family weren’t allowed to come over to our house because of the guys. My mom took it personally and would not allow me to go over to some of their houses. It was hard for me as a child because I almost NEVER liked the guys.(There was one that I have always LOVED, Frank that's you!) It was kind of like when your friend is dating someone you hate and you can’t voice the opinion in fear of losing the friendship, except I was a child and I lived there. It wasn’t a good time for me. I just had to endure. The guys my mom would chose affected me a lot. I started getting really bad intrusive thoughts, which I never knew were intrusive thoughts until recently. As a child I was scared the guy would snap and my mom or siblings would get really hurt or killed. I was always in protect mode. My whole childhood my mom referred to me as the backbone of the family. I was the one that kept the family strong. Me, a child, who received little to no respect

was the backbone of my family unit. I internalized this as a mom, I was supposed to be the backbone of the family, so when I felt so broken inside how could I be the backbone? When I felt broken I could no longer be the backbone and my new nuclear family depended on me. I often feel like a child again. I feel like I am little sixth grade Karysa, protecting my family from my mom's drugged out ex-boyfriend. I feel like I am doing too much for a child, only I am the adult, the mother, the wife. I struggle with feeling like an adult on my really low days.

My mom and I had a very rocky relationship, especially in my teen years. Sometimes it was good, like really good. We would have fun and enjoy life together. We would care about what we were doing to the other person and how it made them feel. Then, we had really bad times. Times where trash talking would take place on social media, and no matter the effort it was never enough. It got really bad in major life changing moments for me. Throughout my whole life I wanted my mom to think the world of me. I tried so hard to be what she wanted me to be while also trying to be myself. I, genuinely, wanted to please everyone. My mom would tell me I was acting stuck up when I acted how I wanted to. I felt like I couldn't win. I was vain for caring about being healthy. I was a "b****" for standing my ground on things that were important to me. I would not keep her secrets and hide the bad stuff going on in my life. I struggled feeling apart of any particular group. I felt very isolated. I always felt an internal battle with myself in being who I wanted to be while trying to fit in to everyone's idea of who I should be. This was especially hard when I became a mom, and didn't do what everyone thought I should when parenting. I had to figure out what ground I stood on. After becoming a mom, I struggled feeling confident in what choices I was making for my kids, but also not willing to change what I was doing regarding my kids.

The summer between my junior and senior year I decided to move out of my moms house because of the toxic environment. I moved in with my grandparents. I have to say my grandparents saved me. They provided me with a stability I didn’t know I needed. My two year, toxic relationship with my mentally abusive boyfriend ended shortly after my move into my grandparents' home. It was a nasty breakup that left me basically friendless and alone my senior year of high school. My grandma, cousins and two friends I met after my breakup ended up being my rock through everything. I needed to see a healthy relationship to end my toxic one. I needed to see I wasn’t just a “manipulative b****”. I needed to see that it was okay for me to be young and enjoy life. My grandparents have always been a great foundation for me. I have always turned to my grandma when life is too much for me to bear alone. They were amazing for taking in a teenager that left mentally and emotionally toxic people behind, to trade it for underage drinking, tattoos, piercings, and premarital sex. Yeah, I was definitely not a goody good. I can never live this stuff down, it is the only stuff my mom has against me. I would hide the trauma by using these ”coping mechanisms“ to give me control of my life. I had been controlled by a boy and felt worthless and unwanted. I started staying out late and drinking a little my senior year of high school. I had just lost my friends, boyfriend, and was in a new school. It was really hard as a senior to enjoy the senior stuff when I was rebuilding myself. I was very lucky to have my cousins and friends I had made during this time. I partied, drank, and got piercings because my conservative grandpa didn’t love it. I had to prove that I was in control of my life. When I was in college I really entered the party scene.

Oh boy did I love partying and breaking all the rules. My grandma hated the rebellious teen in me. I broke curfew, did everything I wanted no matter the consequences. I wanted to fill that hole that others created in me. I wanted to become a person I could stand in to look at in the mirror. I met some great people in my party days and it helped me to become the person I am today. I partied because I was wanted there. I would go out and "enjoy life". Until, I was talking to someone about what happened the night before and realized I couldn't argue what they were saying because my memories from the night were fragmented. That is when I realized the hole that others created in me, I had torn larger. When I left the party scene I decided to really try to find myself. I started talking to a friend at work about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This quickly turned into a baptism for me. I knew then and I know now the church is true. I believe my grandparents provided me the stability I needed to see my way out of my party girl days. They allowed me to make the mistakes I needed to learn who I was, to become the person I am today.

After getting baptized in the church, I made friends pretty fast. I felt like I belonged. I met my now husband and after on and off contact for a couple months we started really hanging out. It started with Sunday night dinners, then it was hanging out a lot during the week. Eventually we both fell, we loved being around each other. It was not anything near perfect or even close to how much we love and respect each other now, but we knew we were pretty much made for each other. The problem was we both had so much baggage, we didn't feel like we were capable of letting go of that baggage. When we got married the first year and a half was rocky. I wasn't sure we would last. I thought "it should not be this hard." My grandma would reassure me, it was this hard. I felt like my relationship was failing, things were said that caused damage that is still healing for both of us. We have worked so hard to be there for each other. This relationship was not like other relationships I had with guys. This man treated me like his equal, I almost felt like the lack of controlling from him was a sign he didn't love me. Oh man, was I wrong. After we had our daughter we could not get on the same page on how to raise her, until I broke down sharing all the stuff I researched and felt we needed to do for her. It got better and easier. We had my son, and no matter what we did we fought. I was exhausted. I was sick and tired of fighting everything. I realized I was really fighting myself. Since I have shared my story with my son in a previous blog I am going to just tell you to read that if you haven't to catch up to speed.

When I started the healing process, I started peeling back layers of trauma my body was reacting from, that I did not even know was there. I was peeling back layers of my childhood that I didn't know I buried so deep and forgot about. My body didn't forget. All the feelings I suppressed had bubbled to the surface and was stari

ng me in my face. I had to heal the trauma I didn't realize I even experienced. Most people don't know that my mom has still never officially met my son. We cut ties due to a lot of factors. This was hard for me to cope with. I never thought I would be orphaned, basically, as an adult after having my children. I always thought my kids would have a relationship with my mom, their grandma. I am healing this and my childhood trauma every day. It is not easy but it is something I will always work on.

I would like to leave you with a quote by Danielle Koepke, "Your trauma is valid. Even if others have experienced 'worse.' Even if someone else who went through the same experience don't feel debilitated by it. Even if it 'could have been avoided.' Even if it happened a long time ago. Even if no one knows. Your trauma is real and valid and you deserve a space to talk about it. It isn't desperate or pathetic or attention-seeking. It's self-care. It's inconceivably brave. And regardless of the magnitude of your struggle, you're allowed to take care of yourself by processing and unloading some of the pain you carry. And your healing matters. Nothing and no one can take that away."