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Caroline's Story

Caroline's Story

Well, where do I start my story? It probably began when my mother was pregnant (unwanted) with me during an Au pair stay in London when she was 21; my father was a French steward from Air France.  It was 1969 so there weren't many single mums then in Switzerland, where I come from. They got married quickly, I was born in 1970, and my mother moved to France, so she could run away with me back to her parents in Switzerland 6 month later. One in Switzerland she met my stepfather and got married again -- and two years later, my half-brother has been born.

I grow up for a few years living with my grandparents, which were my all and everything; parents of my soul. There wasn't any contact with my biological father, in fact, I did not know that my stepfather wasn't my father, but the whole village knew. The village I grew up in was small and close to the Swiss Alps in the east of Switzerland. Very closedminded, right winged, with conservative people. In retrospect, it would have been possible to work with it and go thru life not knowing who my real father was, but I had the bad luck and when I started school at 7-years-old, I had a pedophile teacher who was sexually abusing me and others. He was a very accepted high personality in the community and molested many girls throughout his career as a well know teacher. He taught for aboutt30 years in that school.

I was abused nearly daily, sexual, mentally and physically. He would pull my hair, threaten me, and make me do other other disgusting things, and if that was not bad enough,  my parents would have him over for dinner parties not knowing what he was doing to me and I was too afraid to say anything at the time. By 10-years-old,  I had changed into middle school and had the bad luck yet again. My Teacher was a racistic and mean alcoholic. For me, the physical abuse stopped, but for others, it just began.

I was a difficult child, but nobody ever asked me why. My parents were busy and my mother had her own demons to hide from me, like who my biological father really was. By 13-years-old, a classmate told me that she believed my father wasn't my biological father...... I asked my mum, and she denied it, but I went through her papers while she was at work and found out the truth. By this time my younger sister had been born (which was a huge problem for me).

I still don't know why.... well, I guess I knew throughout my childhood that I actually didn't belong. I was different and looked different, so this was the point in my life that I told my parents "you have been lying to me for so many years and I don't want to have anything to do with you in my future". It was a very emotional time for me and I started to use drugs, ran away several times from home and finally was placed in foster care with a great family. It was a great place for a while. I went back to school, got friends and felt at home. But still, nobody came to the idea I might need therapy.

I started to use weed in 9th grade. I would hang around in Zuerich, it was notorious for its drug culture drug. I try many different kinds of drugs, and they numbed me for the time. I must have had an amazing guardian angel since I never got into heroin or prostitution, like many of the girls my age I knew at the time.

One day, on a visit back home (I was around 16-years-old by now) my mother told me that my old teacher had been suspended for sexually abusing students that were young girls and that he had moved out of the country to Italy. During this conversation, I told her that he abused me also, but she did not believe me as always... so this topic was closed. To this day my mother has not explained to me why she did not believe me about my teacher. I strongly believe she's a covert narcissist.

I left my foster care at 17-years-old to travel for 1 year in Israel and Egypt, and when I came back to my old foster home,  I stayed for just about 6 months, and it was clear that I wore out my welcome. I was on drugs, wasn't able to work, and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life... so after many promises not kept on my side, I had to leave. I know it was a very hard decision for them, they loved me dearly.

Long-story-short, I slipt into drugs, had a crazy lifestyle that was driven by sex and was involved in several relationships with violent, drug addicted guys until I have had to leave the city because a guy was threatening my life; I was 20-years-old by this time. So, I left Zuerich and moved back close to where my parents lived at the time.

I had so many destructive relationships that I was diagnosed at 21-years -old (for the time) with borderline Bipolar disorder, and Depression. I tried to be a part of the society but failed time-after-time using drugs, alcohol, or whatever was available to shut my mind off and to limit the pain from the traumas that I called life up until that point -- I even got tattooed and pierced to numb my pain and this was my way of life until I tried to commit suicide and was put in  a government program to help rehabilitate me ao I could function in society. In all those years, I have had an amazing therapist which I strongly believe saved my life; 10000 hours of therapy with him in around 10  years.

Even though I was diagnosed and in therapy, my parents still denied any of my illnesses and personality disorders, and I don't know why.  Maybe they felt guilty. The only person I experienced the feeling of being loved and accepted from was my grandparents. I miss them very much, they passed a few years ago.

I gave birth to my first son at 29-year-old and started 6 months later to learn a new profession in a protected place for people with social anxiety and other problems.  The next four years where probably the most important in my life.  I learned I am somebody... but still, I knew that I wasn't able to live like everyone else, and I realized I won't ever be like the majority, but life was up and down always. Weed, alcohol sometimes, a very unstable lifestyle but always in therapy with my second therapist who is still a friend today, 17 years later.

In 2002 I wanted to commit suicide,  life became impossible for me with no sleep and many other problems. I was lucky to get into a program that helped me.  My therapist specialized in rehabilitating people that other doctors failed, I felt like a hopeless "client". I was prescribed a very high diagnose of antidepressants by a very famous therapist in Switzerland. I refused after 3 years to go on other medicaments like Lithium because I was scared I won't ever be able to live without it. So I decided after 3 years to try living without the meds.

For the next few years I traveled around the holidays, I met my ex-husband 2004 in the South Pacific, got pregnant and my daughter was born. We got married (of course) he became violent and it broke my body and soul in just 4 years. We had another son and shortly after my son was born I broke things off with him.

I finished my apprenticeship but wasn't able to work due to an early diagnosed arthrosis in my bones from a lifetime of abuse. So I was given a government pension for disabled people. It was up and down for the next years until the divorced was finalized. So here I am, a single mum, raising 3 children alone... it was a time I will never forget. When I look back, I ask myself "how am I still alive at 47-years-old".

I started to do yoga, meditation and self-awareness exercises. It made me realized that I was the one that needed to take the pain out of my life and  I started to process with my therapist of healing from the sexual abuse, the fucked up relationship I have with my mother, and the feeling I have of not existing as a good person in society today. I became a yoga teacher and have done several energy healings and I am very happy. I struggle every day since I'm still different, but I learned to love myself.

I left Switzerland in 2015 to realize a dream I had to travel and to raise my children in a new environment. I feel much better in the sun, in warm countries, where nobody knows me. Where I can be who I am without being judged from my past.

The list is long from the symptoms of the C PTSD and I could probably fill another sheet if I start. I still sleep poorly, have panic attacks often. I do not so well in social settings I am anxious often... but I am enjoying my life and I am grateful for what I have.  I haven't had a much success with romantic relationships as I tend to attract narcissist, so I just try to enjoy my life by being a good mum to my kids. I will always keep looking for ways to help me stabilize my mood and my mental state of mind.

That was the short version of my crazy life, but hey, life is good. Much love from Asia.

- Caroline

The above is a true story that was shard by Caroline so other people like herself would not have to feel alone when dealing with life situations. If you would like to share your story, please contact me -HERE-

Be Well,

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