Hate and Love.

I do what I can to avoid news as much as possible, I have enough going on.. yet unless I shut myself away and never leave the house, I am going to come across some of it sometimes.

Death, destruction, rape, war- so many people dying, famine, disease, persecution. Doesn’t it make you ache?

I have been so bitter the last few days, bitter and angry. Hating God and hating the world around me. I am somewhat upset with myself for that now.

I know I am entitled to feel what I feel, but what kind of person am I if I carry rage in my heart? I don’t want to add more hate to a world already consumed by it.

It’s not who I am or who I want to be. I love, I care, I put everyone in front of me, perhaps sometimes to my own detriment, nonetheless, it is who I prefer to be.


Those turning a blind eye to abuse, those continuing to victim blame- they fill me with rage. I find myself thinking thoughts that scare me, a type of hate that will eat away at you. If I hate, then surely I am no better than them?

We cannot solve things with hate and violence. I don’t believe that, I will never believe that.

There is enough hate, enough persecution, enough rape, enough war, enough murder. These are hate fueled actions that I want no part in.



Tonight, this week, the last month, all have been truly awful. There are moments where I wish for the end. Sometimes, I am so hurt, I can barely control the rage, I cannot see past the red fog that descends where I find myself wanting to push everyone away. Where I fear I will tell you all and everyone I know, to fuck off and leave me alone. In those moments I want them and you to see that hateful side of me, because so often, I fear it is the true me.

Then the storm blows over for a short time and I pull myself out of the debris. The rage subsides and I find my heart- expecting it to be shattered in pieces, but instead, while bruised it remains whole. Full of love and forgiveness, not hate, not rage.

So if you ever see that hating side, I ask in advance, please forgive me, it is not who I am or who I ever want to be.



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.


Angry – a rant at “him”

Trigger warning- there’s a whole heap of swearing.


I am so angry, so very very angry. How dare you, how fucking dare you intrude on my session, my first session back with my T. How dare you force your way in like that, it was so unwanted and so unexpected. You were completely unwelcome.  

Fuck you, I hate you. I hate you so much right now. It was progress, it felt good, I was sharing, I was in control. I was reaching understanding and I was safe with my T. But you had to worm your way in and strike when I wasn’t prepared. So now it’s about that and it’s about you and I feel embarrassment that I don’t want. I’m raging.

Oh but do you know what? It makes me feel alive and so very strong. I used that rage, I grounded. I got angry and I took back control. Fuck you, I said no and I made you leave, who is the strong one now? Who is in control now.. it’s not you. I’m in charge, I choose when you come in, those sessions are mine, MINE. It is my place to feel safe, my time to talk and remember what I want to, when I want to. Your horrors will not come back to me, not there, not in my sessions, unless I invite them, in my own way, under my control. I will confront you when I am ready. You don’t get to choose. It’s about me, not you, not anymore. 


Exhausted now, head is killing me, but hoping that getting this out will help me re focus on today’s T session and the important issues we explored today. It seemed important to share. Thank you for taking the time read.

The Morning After

I find Saturday mornings difficult most weeks. I often feel pretty terrible. I see my T on a Friday afternoon, so I guess it’s to be expected that I will feel so bad the morning after.

It isn’t always this way, sometimes we have a really positive session and I feel on a high for a few days after. Right now though, we are doing a lot of trauma work and that is so grueling. After a session of trauma work, I often feel exhausted physically and emotionally drained. Some weeks it’s an effort just to walk back to the car.

I am finding  what we are dealing with extremely difficult, probably more so than I have done previously (which has surprised me, but that is perhaps for another post).  We are going very slowly, cautiously dealing with these things because as  much as I want it all out and over with, I have to function between sessions. I have children, a job, a house, a husband.. I can’t be a wreck all week, every week.  So slowly it is.

Saturday’s though, remain difficult. I hate it, I hate feeling the way I do right now. I hate feeling so out of control. I’m hitting one emotion, then jumping straight to another.

It begins as anger, sitting on my chest, it feels like it is restricting my lungs. It rises inside me, moving it’s way up into my windpipe. I can barely breathe as it catches in my throat. Just as I feel it is about to set itself free, it is gone…as quickly as it came.

Then, the tears begin to form, threatening to spill over, I will myself to let go. I want to be held, but cannot bear to be touched. I don’t want to be alone, yet I wish everyone would go away, because it’s so very loud inside my head, it’s chaotic and feels all consuming. The external noises, even the sound of my children playing, are sometimes just too much.  The noise feels like vibrations, so loud I feel as if it’s piercing right through me….. then once again the rage forms, once again it beings its ascent inside me.

And this is how it goes for me most Saturday mornings, I bounce back and forth between emotions, it’s conflicting and tiring. I feel discouraged and I find myself questioning why I put myself through it. It’s on mornings like these that I wonder if it’s worth it.