This has happened to me a few times. And each time felt extremely invalidating.

Like what my parents say or do now is not how they behaved in the past. I used to feel so mad at couple of my Ts, the ones I talked to about childhood emotional abuse, and they would say ask your parents about some related things and I would and parents knew it was for therapy so they would give the politically correct understanding answer and then my therapist would say, "See, they're saying they will support you in any possible way they can, as long as you're willing to meet them half way." I felt my therapists thought I was making it up, like I was a rebellious kid and now my parents were being all rational and supportive only if I be willing to reach and shake their open hand.

But my wounds come from a different time, different place. Back then they were very different people. I was little when I was emotionally abused. I learned to fear them. I stayed like that for years, that kind of powerlessness. But the two therapists I told about my childhood abuse, they seemed to have seen their fair share of abuse, and seemed indifferent or like they did not believe me or did not think it was a big deal. It was not so much what they said the overall expression, like I did not feel that I made them feel how bad it was for me.

I had a fantasy once with the second of the two therapists, that I would kidnap her one night from her bed and take her to my childhood. We would fly there. I'd tell her to come and hide in the closet with my little self and look out at my mom who threatened to kick me out at age 6 and also threatened to tell my angry dad when he came home, so he could beat me senseless. I was a shy little sensitive boy so that threat itself was more than enough to fill me with terror, I did not need to see dad take off his belt though he would more often than not do so anyways. One day I had put all my furniture against the door and he kept hitting his body against the door like a wild animal and I kept crying and saying I'm sorry but was afraid he'd kill me if I opened the door

I wanted to take her there and say to her, "Look, you see how small my arms and legs are, see how pale I look, you see how mom is manipulating dad just cause I did not help her cook and she wants to make me miserable cause her own life is out of control and since she can't get back at her own physically abusive mother and can't heal her old wounds, she wants to feel power over her child, a sadistic kind of power. "

I wanted to force T's face to look straight at my tear filled eyes and tell her: "Look, both of them are against me, both have ganged up on me, there is no good cop bad cop, it's all bad cop, I'm so afraid, I have nobody, we live miles away from the city, mom has severed relations with her family cause they take her mom 's side and so nobody will call today, nobody will check on me, what if they kill me!"

Then she says "Oh they wouldn't, you're so sensitive, it was just a threat, didn't you say this happened before?" I say, "Yes, but how do I know they not gonna, I'm only six, I don't have life experience like you. Also each time these fights happen I think they gonna throw me out or kill me, I even thought about running away but I don't know where to go and afraid if they find me they will really kill me!"

So how would the next day go, she says? I say, "I would fake illness and stay home cause when mom realized she was needed and took care of me, she became nice again. When I was weak and helpless and sick, I would not move and go out or have fun or disagree, I would just sit there and let her take care of me, and then she would be nice again. Then dad would come home and not be mad either and even if he was mad for a different reason, mom would tell him P. is sick and so be nice. Then during the coming week I would remain mostly home and sickly and very obedient to point of not knowing who I am anymore or what I want. Then when mom would be in a good mood for several days, I would remember my old self and again start going after things I wanted. Till next time it happens again."

Then T would say, "Okay, so yeah it's worse than I thought, you actually did look scared and I'm a grown woman but sitting next to you I sort of get it now, I can feel it now." Then she would hug me and say, "It's okay, you're here now, you're safe, you're a good boy, you didn't deserve how you were treated, but it's okay, bad things will never happen to you again, I know because there's a guardian angel on your shoulders, I can see it, trust me, you're safe and you're loved," and she would wipe away a tear and I would feel a real connection, like she actually understood me.

I don't know where I'm going with this...but thanks for reading.