"Some abused children show excessive fear of school failure . This symptom often exists in the most severely abused children... The hidden cause of this fear is dissociation and focus only on having good grades. The child may be aware of her abuse and may be afraid to go home after school.".
"The one extreme is where abused children will project images of "all-rightness" to hide their true inner negative states. Some abused children will strive to be perfect and excel in school, in a sport, or on a career path."
"Bottom line, positive performance in school or at work, or in any other endeavors is not an indication of a person's true inner state or past family experience."
I have received several emails that accuse me of not being totally truthful. I am used to this. I am used to people not believing me. I am used to people minimizing my life and my story because I don't fit the mold. I don't fit the statistics. I didn't and still don't behave in a preconceived way. I am used to being overlooked. I am used to having my heart ignored. After all, I was a good student, a violinist, went to college, have a not so great but decent job and a relationship. That must mean I am happy. My childhood must have been okay even if I grew up in foster care because look at how "well I am doing." There could be no possible way I was working so hard because if I was terrified. I was smiling but every organ in my body was barely hanging on. I was was barley alive and fighting to survive the only way I knew how--pretend. I used to want people to believe I was perfect. I used to want people to believe my life was perfect. That was pretend. That wasn't real. This is real. This is real life.
Not everyone reacts to trauma the same way. Not every foster child is going to deal with their struggles in the same manner. Those who hide their pain are not suffering any less. That pain is still there. That pain still hurts. Maybe I am better off than the statistics. Maybe I am better off than my siblings and most other former foster children I have met. My heart breaks for all of them. My heart breaks for every current and former foster child. I know their pain. I have lived their pain. Maybe I didn't show it the same way. Perhaps I choose a healthier path, although I think that is highly debatable. I have no control over your thoughts or feelings but the stories in this blog are real. They are mine. The pain in this blog is mine. This is me. This is my heart. This is who I really am. This is what I've lived. This is me, no longer pretending. Take it or leave it.