This morning, I woke feeling a whole heap of shame. I had hoped I had seen the last of it.
I’m not quite sure what or why, I don’t have the energy to explore it much right now. I would have understood if I felt it while with my T yesterday. I told him some horrible stuff, that previously would have caused shame and embarrassment.
Before I began yesterday, we discussed our relationship some, my T asked if I was feeling embarrassed with him. I told him no and I meant it. There has been a big change recently, I have been able to tell him without fear of rejection or embarrassment. I did not feel shame while I spoke the details. It hurt, I felt outrage and I felt pain, but not shame. I felt heard, I felt understood and I felt him holding my pain. Shame was not part of that.
I can at least guess reasons behind it, but as I said, that will take energy to explore properly. Energy, I do not have, not that kind and not to face it alone. I need to though, if it doesn’t go at least. It is dragging me down, it’s so big and so destructive.
Shame tells me that I deserve to feel this way. It tells me that I’m dirty and I am used and that’s all I was and am good for. It tells me that I am kidding myself if I think I can be good for anything else. It tells me that I do not deserve the family I have, nor do I deserve those supporting me. It tells me that they’d run away from me if they only knew what I really am. It tells me to keep it to myself, it tells me to isolate. And it’s LOUD.
All those things cause a whole heap of fear and paranoia. I fear being left, I fear being rejected. I am paranoid that it’s right and I won’t always be able to conceal it; one day I will be discovered and everyone will see me for who I fear I am.
I’m shocked at the depth of it. It’s lies are powerful and hard to fight. I’m doing what I can to fight it, e.g. I’ve been seeking the comfort in my husband’s arms, that I don’t feel I deserve, but I’ve been doing it anyway. I’ve not been writing in my journals, for a few reasons (mostly because I don’t feel I can), but I have typed and will publish this, even if I feel like I’m fighting against myself. I don’t want to isolate, I don’t want to keep this to myself, I did that for years and it’s so destructive. I get tired of fighting though.
Why is it always such a fight?