Quote from: troyboi on July 13, 2012, 01:04:23 AM
Arch: Is it possible to know which came first, the chicken or the egg, when it comes to traumatic events? The problem is that I have little to no recollection of my childhood, so I can't say that I've known since I was five. I can barely remember middle school.
In my experience, it has been possible for me to trace some of this stuff back and get a good sense of what really happened. But I have had to peel back a lot of skin to do it; the amount of introspection and therapy it has taken...yikes. I keep thinking, "What good does it do me to know this?" For a lot of people, it doesn't actually help. For me, it often does.
I went through phases. I discovered in the late eighties that I was an FTM transsexual--didn't know such a thing existed before that--but took refuge in calling myself a cross dresser for a long time because the one "expert" book that existed said that I was messed up.
Then I was transgender because I didn't want to be TS. But I wanted hormones and surgery.
Then I was recloseted, and I tried calling myself a masculine woman. Any port in a storm. I'm embarrassed about that phase; it was truly soul-sucking. And inaccurate.
I started losing my grip over a seventeen-month period after two people I cared about died. Then one day I just figured it out. I wasn't a masculine woman or a cross dresser or even a transsexual. I was a man. A gay man. Even with the body I had and the hetero relationship I was in.
Now I can look back and make sense of my past. Everything fits now. If you don't remember much of your past, I guess that might not be a possibility for you. But I guess it depends on the nature of the memory loss.
I have some unorthodox perspectives on coping mechanisms. I have had (and I guess still have) some coping mechanisms that most people would deem unhealthy. When I place those mechanisms in the perspective of an ideal world, I agree. But I live in the real world. At certain points in my life, it was better for me to cut or hurt myself than not to. For several years, I needed anti-depressants without the usual accompanying therapy, and I'm grateful that my doctor let me do this. It has been better for me to see suicide as an escape clause than not, because thinking that way actually kept me from doing it. And so on.
My ex used to go to the batting cages or run around the block or play a computer game to blow off steam. Now I'm more likely to take a walk or write in my journal when I feel bad. Therapy saved my life and is slowly enabling me to make positive changes. But finding better ways to cope has been a long process.
