Discarding False Beliefs

One of the things I have learned recently is that for most of my life I have felt that I owed everyone the common decency of stoicism and I constantly fell short of that. Maybe I'd be stoic for a day or a week but eventually my emotions would come to the surface despite my intentions which created a lot of anger towards myself. What I also learned though, is that by the time I sprung a leak, I was actually crying for hundreds of reasons, many of which I wasn't even privy to since I could not remember my early childhood traumas. So despite the fact that everyone else saw a "sensitive" child crying over a simple C or some other small experience, I was actually breaking down for unseen reasons, not the seen one. If you are struggling to grasp this concept, here's another true image for you. When I was around 10, I took my first hour long yoga class and within the first five minutes, I was sobbing through the poses and within the first 10, I was sobbing too hard to perform the poses. In one hour of yoga, I only did less than 10 minutes worth. All of those tears had been consistently hovering just below the surface waiting for a reason, however tiny, to show themselves, to be expressed.
So when I learned of what I consider to be my primary trauma (in terms of severity), I knew with my whole being that I had been told the truth. Not just because of my "sensitivity", but for dozens of other compelling reasons. I compare it to when a child is playing with his/her friends and having a blast running around outside and suddenly gets injured. At first the child is too busy having fun and horsing around to notice their injury. But when their friends point out to the child that he/she is bleeding quite profusely and the child looks down, that's when they notice the pain. When my biological mother finally revealed to me that I am a survivor of csa, all of my insecurities and idiosyncrasies made alarming sense. I had even ignored the fact that I had been suffering from a trigger word my whole life. You could also say it was like having had stacks of evidence on your desk proving something, but instead of addressing it, you chose to shove the stacks of folders into the trashcan. I spent my whole life it such denial until someone placed a metaphorical photo in front of my face.