My story of repressed memories of incest, a lifetime of despair and dissociation, discovery and healing. "You mean the sky isn't blue?!" unmasks the truth of what my life really was causing me to question not only my childhood fantasy life, but life in general. Blogs like these have helped me more than I could have ever imagined and I hope to be able to help others as well. Please share your thoughts and feelings here too.
I’m supposed to reflect on what we talked about in therapy this week and then, stop thinking about it on Friday or I’ll mess up my whole week. On Wednesday when my therapist said that it sounded plausible enough.
Here it is Friday and I feel as if I missed my opportunity to mull it over and get any mileage out of the EMDR we did 2 days ago. When I was supposed to be thinking about it, I barely got any alone time to do it. Now, here it is Friday and I’m alone. I can neither think of it nor not. I’m fog bound and stuck ... again!
Goddamn it! I hate myself and I feel like I’ll never get it right. My therapist tells me that I can’t trust my compass right now and part of me understands that. My feelings are messed up and I’m confused. All I know is that I’m MAD!
***Warning Possible Triggers***
I feel so MAD! I want to kill. I want to stab, rip, tear and destroy! Smash, stomp and scream. FUCK YOU!!! I want to bite, kick and spit. I want to rip flesh from bone with my teeth! Snarl and growl. Back off! Get OFF of me!
I hate you. I hate your mouth. Your tongue. Your smell. You devil. You Satan. You pig! I’m disgusted by the very thought of you. You make me want to vomit. I want to tear at your face with my claws and laugh at you. I feel like I have a demon inside and I’m evil-just like you.
I hate you! That smirk. That filthy lusty look on your face. The way you lick your lips. I want to slash your face to bits and stab your eyes out! I don’t want your DNA-your blood-your smell-your spit-your breath-your filth. You make me sick. I detest you. I want to kill you! I want to draw back my legs like a kangaroo and send you flying onto hell where you belong!
***End Possible Triggers***
I sat here silently for a while and then I reread what I had written. I feel confused and numb. I don’t know who I wrote this about. I think it should be about my father. I can’t even remember my father right now. I can easily get this mad at my husband but part of me knows it has absolutely nothing to do with him. I feel this mad at myself-a lot! Why do I see my mother’s face then? I’m so confused. I feel queasy. I feel tired and numb.