About a week and a half ago, I reached a HUGE and life changing goal.
Things are different, new, changed. All of it, everything. Most of the time I feel like the bottom has fallen out of my world. Yet there are times when I realise things are clearer, the past and the present. There are even moments where I feel as if I am really starting to find myself.
It is a lot- too much to explain here. And right now I cannot blog about the specifics of this step. Particularly, because I am way too close to what it has changed in the memories of the abuse. Until I share those things with my T, it is better I stay away from them as much as possible. Heck, I am even nervous to journal about it too much.
My mind is working over time though and so I would like to share some general thoughts over this new step.
I have always needed for others to believe me, like an absolutely desperate need. I have worried and feared endlessly that I am not believed.
I am automatically suspicious of people, I wait to be screwed over by everyone. There are lovely and amazing people there for me but (and I feel so guilty for this) I guess I even wait for them to change their mind and no longer believe me. The more I share of my (unbelievable sounding) story, the greater the fear that I will be branded a liar and then rejected and abandoned. I cannot help it. I wait and I prepare for rejection.
The last few days and this afternoon in particular, I have been thinking about that need to be believed. I think as things are becoming clearer, my perception is changing. Do not get me wrong- I still have that need to be believed, I still want that. I even still have that (embarrassing) expectation that I will be abandoned at some point, but I am starting to wonder how much of that need to be believed is about other people rather than me?
What I mean is- perhaps I have had it all wrong. Maybe I have been placing too much importance on others believing me and my story. I suspect the insecurity is about a lot more than having not been believed years ago. I suspect it has a lot to do with my own belief in my experiences. Or perhaps that should be lack of belief. Because I am not sure I have ever really believed any of it myself.
Until today, I did not realise that I did not believe my own story. How messed up is that? I want so badly to be heard, to be understood and to be believed. Yet I could not even do that for myself. That feel like such a failing.
This recent step has forced me to face the ugliness of my past as a whole. I cannot hide, I cannot escape- I have tried. Now I see and now I know and oh, how I feel it too. How can I not believe myself now?
How could I have ever expected other people to believe what I could not?
Maybe when the shock wears off and the pain becomes more bearable, my belief in my own story will be enough? Perhaps my need for others to believe me will begin to fade? What a relief that would be.
While I get used to my own story, please (continue to) believe me? It is more important than ever. For now.
I cannot deny it any longer. I believe my story.
Would you? Do you? Will you?