Update. Therapy. Pain.

I haven’t blogged in a while, for several reasons I suppose. One big reason is because I’ve been feeling better (YAY!). Things are slightly different in therapy right now, we aren’t dealing with trauma memories as such, therefore, I’m grounded more, I struggle less with nightmares and PTSD symptoms, which makes day to day life better. But, it’s not just that, I feel better in myself, I have such hope for the future which I have  never had before. I feel excitement about my future with my family that I never experienced before. I have been calmer in general, I have been able to enjoy my children more. I’ve been able to cope alone in ways I just couldn’t before. And it’s been AMAZING.


Therapy the last few weeks, has been a little different to previous months. We’ve been addressing the pain I carry about certain aspects of the past (aside from the abuse). I have been facing that and have been able to release some of that pain. Which leads me to another reason why I have not been blogging.  I just haven’t really known how to blog about my experiences right now. I haven’t really known how to blog about the deep pain I carry and all the issues that have arisen from that.


Today, I saw my T we spent some time talking about the past- things that happened aside from the trauma. As well as releasing pain, we are working on bringing my feelings inline with what I know deep down. Last week, I left the session feeling so in control and so on a high from that control. I was feeling what I needed to feel but instead of it being about letting go of control, like I had feared, I actually felt more in control of my feelings than I ever have before. Today, was different though. I felt a shift in the way I think and feel. We covered some memories that had been lost before, things that brought about a whole heap of conflict and a whole heap more of pain.

My T says we often have a core self and then our perceived self, which is an identity that forms from the actions, expectations etc, from others. The teen years are particularly crucial when it comes to developing identity. My T says I am experiencing conflict because I’ve started to find my core self and it doesn’t fit with the all the things I thought about myself and others thought of me. My T said it’s something I will probably face repeatedly over the next few months, but eventually the true self will be all that’s left.

There seem to be lots of things are going on at once and I’m a bit overwhelmed. The deep pain I’ve buried for years is surfacing, there’s another issue, which is sort of ongoing (and not something I can blog about) and then there’s this conflict which has been brought up while trying to resolve that ongoing issue and that equals more pain.

Tonight, I hurt. My baby is sitting beside me,  my big boy is at a friend’s house. My house is bright and smells good, it’s warm and it is safe. I have a exciting future ahead and I’m so glad about those things, they help so much, but they do not take this pain away. Nothing can make it just go. My T always encourages me to let new things sit. I know right now he would say that yes, it hurts, but it’s OK to hurt if that is what I feel. I know he would tell me it’s nothing to be afraid of and it won’t last forever and he’d would tell me that I am justified in hurting, that I deserve to feel that hurt, because hurting over this, is the way forward, the way through and the way out.

No therapy next week, so there’s plenty of time for this to sit and plenty of time for me to continue challenge some of those parts of my perceived identity that do not belong. Lots of time to do what needs to be done and to feel what needs to be felt. Yet I just want to hide or run away because it hurts so much its’s like I can barely breathe. I don’t know how to feel OK that I hurt this much, not in this moment, not yet at least.


Dream justice


Last night my dreams were of her-the one who is still enslaved.

It was her and me, we were together in solidarity.

We talked of him, of our similar scars and the hatred we carry within.

Together we planned to take him down, to see him brought to account for what he did.

The satisfaction I felt and the strength from her, was still with me when I woke

until morning approached, reality dawned and once again I was forced to face the truth,

that justice for me, for her and for them, exists only in our dreams.


Hate and Love.

There’s so much contained inside right now that I feel as if I may burst, but I couldn’t express it today, I couldn’t let go. Every time I feel that pain I am filled with hate and I burn with rage.

I don’t want to do this, I don’t want this. How do I deal with this? I want Christmas back, that energy, those moments of peace. I want to feel alive again, not just exist.  I wrote this when I got home from T:

I won’t remember you this way, you are not a person, you are not the same as me, or anyone I know. You are the monster, you are not real, you were never real. I don’t want to see you, or to remember the way you looked, I don’t want to recall the attraction. You must remain the monster, a monster without a face, you must. You have to.

You ruined every moment of us that I held dear, every treasured memory has been tainted and for that I am grateful. I don’t want to remember you fondly, I don’t want to remember any good within you, only the bad.  It has to be that black and white, it just has to.

Your manipulation and your control is all I want to see in those many embraces and all the tender kisses I cannot scrub from my memory. I want to see your dominance and hold over me while I remember how you groomed me into loving you. And when I am hit by flashes of your scent, or I feel your touch upon me, nothing but fear and horror is acceptable. I will not miss you or find any comfort, I will not mourn for the loss, or grieve for what was. I cannot accept that conflict goes on within me because the you I loved did not exist, it was never true and it was never right.  I reject the feelings of loss, I reject the grief and I reject the heartbreak.

When I choose, I will cry over what you did and all that horrific abuse, I may cry for the loss and for the ideal, but I will not grieve for you. You will not have my tears, not over this, not for you. I will not let go, I will not cry over “our love”. You are not deserving of my tears or any more of my pain. You deserve hate, you deserve my rage, all of it, every bit of it focused on you, the real you, the monster.