Trigger Warning: Self-harm, childhood trauma, and abuse.
After a long and exhausting day, I found myself seated on the hallway floor with my three-year-old daughter, Lily. We were both in tears for very different reasons—she wanted my attention for bedtime, while I desperately craved a moment of peace after enduring a grueling pregnancy with her little brother. It felt like we were two worn-out warriors, both battling our own emotional turmoil.
Lily’s tiny fingers dug into my leg, her neediness palpable. I couldn’t fault her; she was navigating her feelings about the new family dynamic while I was grappling with my own overwhelming stress from a recent trip to say goodbye to a loved one. The combination of pregnancy hormones and fatigue was a recipe for emotional chaos, and her cries began to escalate into screams. My nerves frayed, and I abruptly handed her off to my partner and fled to the bathroom.
In the dark, locked away, I succumbed to a panic attack and, with tears streaming down my face, I began hitting my head against the floor. The release felt momentarily cathartic, but it was just one instance in a long history of self-harm that I had kept hidden for nearly twenty years.
In that moment, I yearned to explain to Lily why I was feeling so broken, wanting her to understand that my distress stemmed from a traumatic past she couldn’t possibly comprehend. How do you explain to a toddler that her mother has endured physical, verbal, and sexual abuse? How do you convey that she’s not alone in this struggle, as millions of others in the U.S. face ongoing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder just like me?
The truth is, I’ve struggled with self-harm since my teenage years, and despite my efforts to overcome it, the challenges of motherhood have intensified those urges in unexpected ways. After Lily’s first birthday, I began to experience debilitating panic attacks and muscle twitches that left me feeling terrified and confused.
Recognizing the need for help, I sought out a counselor specializing in trauma and postpartum issues. That decision has been pivotal in understanding the reasons behind my self-punishment. Two years into focused mental health recovery, I’m proud to say that my victories now outweigh my setbacks. I’ve learned to reach out instead of suffering in silence, and I’ve temporarily relocated to be near my husband’s family, where I can access support more readily.
While I am actively working on my mental health, I’ve discovered that healing is not a linear process. One moment can swiftly set me back, and I still contend with painful memories and triggers. I cannot guarantee that my days of self-harm are completely behind me, but I’m learning to approach myself with greater courage and compassion. Instead of trying to control everything around me, I’m beginning to embrace my imperfections and shortcomings.
By confronting my past and allowing myself to feel the emotions that arise from it, I am becoming a more patient and forgiving parent. This authenticity creates a safe environment for Lily, allowing her to express her feelings without fear. As I navigate the complexities of motherhood with a three-year-old daughter and a ten-month-old son, I hold on tightly to the progress I’ve made.
For those seeking further information on related topics, you might find insights on home insemination methods at this resource helpful. If you’re interested in understanding advancements in IVF, this article provides valuable information. Additionally, for a broader understanding of the IVF process, you can refer to this excellent resource.
Summary:
As a mother with complex PTSD, I navigate the challenges of self-harm while raising my children. Despite past trauma, I’m committed to my mental health recovery and strive to cultivate an open, nurturing relationship with my daughter. Healing is a nonlinear journey, but I’ve learned to embrace my imperfections and seek support during difficult times.