Quote:
Originally Posted by Patagonia
I have this one part that is very evil. It enjoys pain & suffering. It doesn't care. It has pieces of my father in it. It likes to destroy & watch me suffer.
"Oh is that sentimental & you like it? Well it's trash now & im burning it for safe measure!" It says I need to be clean. Likes space & the emptiness of it.
"Oh you made a lunch date with an old friend? Well it's cancelled! You don't need that!"
Then I'm left with the regret of its destruction. Things I wanted to keep are now gone & things I wanted that might lift my mood are gone too.
I hate this part of me! I hate the lonely empty space it puts me in & tells me I deserve it & must stay there. I'm evil & need to be alone.
Why. What does this part want? It hates sympathy or kindness. It makes the rage worse. It just seeks total destruction. And sometimes I just give into it.
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I (we) had a part that was very, very similar. For years we were terrified of her.
In the end it turned out that everything she did was a misguided attempt to protect us, even though - on the face of it - everything she did tortured, isolated, punished and hurt us. She too destroyed our things, sabotaged our relationships and did everything in her power to keep us 'in check'.
Over several years in therapy and with the Ts help we gradually became aware of her cycle - she would be triggered out in response to system progress in therapy and then would 'rampage' for several days in an almost ritualistic set of steps of preparation to destroy us completely. She would take us right up to the edge of the abyss and then switch out.
We started to notice that she *had* to do this stuff... and then once she had done her job she would leave (until the next time). But we began to realise that she never achieved her end goal of total destruction (death) and so we stopped fearing her. We learned to observe, and wait patiently, letting her do what she had to do. She still raged and rampaged, but over time we learned to have compassion for her. Even love. (As she systematically prepared to destroy us!)
In the end we - and then she - realised that she was just a terrified, traumatised kid. (She was in her late teens, but at the heart of it she was really just a terrified little kid.) She held a lot of the self hate for us. She directed it at *us*, as the abusers did, but it was really for herself. By holding those feelings and containing them, isolating them from the others she allowed us to live.
I think sometimes the most destructive parts of ourselves can be our greatest protectors although their actions may, on the face of it, seem quite the opposite.