Silent Struggles, Not Anymore

By Lorraine //

Growing up in a traditional Chinese family where hierarchy features strongly, and as the youngest in the family, I do not have much of a voice. Speaking up is always considered rude, even if one has been misunderstood.

Since we were toddlers, my brother and I were left under the care of my grandparents as my parents were busy building their careers. Even though I was well provided materially for, there was a part of me that felt very insecure. I remember crying inconsolably each evening when I watched my parents drive away as I remained at my grandparents’. “Don’t cry”, was the only consolation I got.

As I grew older, I found it harder to communicate at home. Everyone had strong opinions and there was a lack of mutual respect and understanding. In desperation for them to hear me out, I would often burst out in anger. That became the only way I knew to make myself heard. But as a result, I often found myself in arguments or given the cold shoulder. Subsequently, the fear of getting into any sort of unhappiness kept me quiet all the time.

Moving forward to about four years ago, everything went south for me.

//Losing two loved ones – my maternal grandma and my mother – within a year and then getting married a few months later was overwhelming. There wasn’t enough time to grieve over their deaths as I was busy preparing for the wedding. Also, crying or showing any signs of distress somehow annoys the elders in the family, so I kept all the overwhelming emotions within.//

The only comforting moment then was when I said “I do” to the man whom I thought I could depend on, but only to find out about his infidelity four months into the marriage. And to make things more dramatic, I was already three months pregnant. Flight, freeze or fight – I froze. I continued staying with my (ex) in-laws throughout my pregnancy, with the hopes of my (ex) husband returning home.

Facing unsupportive and mentally abusive in-laws, and going through a few incidences of physical abuse by my husband, there was no doubt that I was in an unsafe place. I wanted to go back to my family so badly but yet I froze (again) at the thought of them telling me the usual “don’t cry”, “swallow it in”, “you chose this”, etc. I never felt that I would be protected even if they knew about what was going on. I attended family events as usual, hiding the bruises on my arms and knees with the excuse of me being clumsy, and covering up the absence of my husband with his job all the time. On top of the stress of not letting the cat out of the bag, thoughts of suicide crept into my mind very often. I was in bad shape, mentally, emotionally and physically.

Finally the day came, my child was born safely and I told my family what had happened. Even though they welcomed my child and me back home, that warmth did not last very long. Questions and blame were thrown at me, soon after. In addition, I later found out that the betrayal was not just from my husband; extended family members knew of his misdeeds even before we got married but kept me in the dark. As a result, I found myself in a very dark place again. I could not trust anyone.

I suffered from frequent flashbacks and nightmares; I did not want to socialize or talk to anyone. I live with hypervigilance, anxiety, and the fear of being hurt or betrayed again. There were many triggering episodes that got me into arguments with my family. Because of these, I had the reputation of being unreasonable, hot tempered, and rude. I no longer froze, but chose to fight, especially in situations that make me feel threatened, unwanted or abandoned.

It took me a while to identify that this was PTSD: I was traumatized and haunted by the whole drama and by not having enough protective factors around me.

I am still suffering from the after-effects of this trauma. All these monsters are real and the battle is tough, but I have learnt to not be afraid to speak up regardless of being understood or not, ways to release any repressed emotions by journaling, and to be mindful of any trigger moments in order to avoid conflict. Seeking support and help from a professional mental health practitioner has also helped me to regulate my emotions. In the long process of recovery, baby steps are better than not taking any at all.

My name is Lorraine, a former ballet instructor turned single mom to a 2.5 year-old boy.

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