I've said it so many time that I sometimes worry the words, repeated so, diminish in their quality. It's only the truth. My experience.
It's been proven that childhood abuse survivors are more easily tired, requiring rest at more frequent intervals, so I'm not alone in this. (Aspergers, also, causes exhaustion much more readily than for neurotypicals.)
Picture a small, say 5 yr old child, constantly running in fear, for days on end, being chased by a man with a whip. That's how it feels.
The man goes away but the child's brain is now programmed to Always Run. The body is hyper aroused, hyper vigilante and can find no way to slow down, to realize that the danger has passed. The survival mechanism, once activated, is at full throttle and rather helpless to find relief, slow down, a way to Express the danger and realize danger is past.
Add to that weekly therapy which reengages those early, traumatic memories and thrusts them to the surface, hoping that in their acknowledgment that they may find safety and closure.
It's just a vicious, highly emotional, perpetual roller coaster.
The body is exhausted from all the distress, the hormones and transmitters being pushed up and down. An engine that can never stop running. It is exhausting.
I'm going to start keeping track on how many days I'm exhausted.
My formula will be: exhaustion= a day whereby the simplest, every day tasks of functioning are only accomplished with great effort.
I can already count Saturday thru today, Wednesday.
I'm not sick. I'm not lazy. And I don't have a specific physical illness.
I'm a survivor. Someone who has been subjected to running from danger for a very long time.
Everyday life is exhausting. It's normal for what I experienced. It's incredibly normal.
It's been proven that childhood abuse survivors are more easily tired, requiring rest at more frequent intervals, so I'm not alone in this. (Aspergers, also, causes exhaustion much more readily than for neurotypicals.)
Picture a small, say 5 yr old child, constantly running in fear, for days on end, being chased by a man with a whip. That's how it feels.
The man goes away but the child's brain is now programmed to Always Run. The body is hyper aroused, hyper vigilante and can find no way to slow down, to realize that the danger has passed. The survival mechanism, once activated, is at full throttle and rather helpless to find relief, slow down, a way to Express the danger and realize danger is past.
Add to that weekly therapy which reengages those early, traumatic memories and thrusts them to the surface, hoping that in their acknowledgment that they may find safety and closure.
It's just a vicious, highly emotional, perpetual roller coaster.
The body is exhausted from all the distress, the hormones and transmitters being pushed up and down. An engine that can never stop running. It is exhausting.
I'm going to start keeping track on how many days I'm exhausted.
My formula will be: exhaustion= a day whereby the simplest, every day tasks of functioning are only accomplished with great effort.
I can already count Saturday thru today, Wednesday.
I'm not sick. I'm not lazy. And I don't have a specific physical illness.
I'm a survivor. Someone who has been subjected to running from danger for a very long time.
Everyday life is exhausting. It's normal for what I experienced. It's incredibly normal.
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