below is an email to my therapist--you don't have to read the whole thing...the important thing is that I, after almost 2 years of therapy with her, have finally broken down my walls...I have given her part of myself to take care of...to show me the love I never had as a child. I have made myself vulnerable...I trust her to take care of me. I am not alone...not only that, I realize, there is also a special friend here on PC that I have allowed to love me....to care for me. I am not alone.

Email:
I read an article about neglect. I won't make you read the whole thing...but like you said and the lady in the article said, 'Neglect is the failure of caregivers to provide needed age-appropriate care.' I saw parts of myself in the article.

Here is part of it, "Never having had order or structure or basic necessities, she finds it difficult to organize her things, manage a schedule or maintain a healthy lifestyle. Never having had love or support from her parents, she finds it difficult to love, to trust, or to reciprocate in relationships."

I try not to blame my problems on my childhood because I want to take responsibility for them...but, I am not the only one who struggles like this. It makes me think about the little monkeys in the cages who have their mothers taken away and all they are given is a stuffed toy to hang onto. They hang onto the stuffed toy like it was their mum. They seek comfort and support from it--the best they can get. What did I hold onto for comfort and support? Words, reading I held onto books. Drugs and alcohol. Myself...I held onto myself...I held onto my thoughts and my fantasy life. I dreamed of better things.

I think the walls I built around myself to protect me from you have been slowly falling away. The last couple weeks, I have come to feel of you as a support...somebody I could go to for help. Before I would not permit myself that luxury. Maybe, just maybe I can let you care for me a bit. You would think, since I have been seeing you for such a long time, I would trust you more by now. But, I don't think it has been a lack of trust that has prevented me from letting you care about me. I think I am just now ready to give you some of myself. I really, truly do trust you to take care of the parts me I give to you. You are an excellent therapist and I am incredibly grateful for your patience. I have read a lot about therapy--I know a lot about therapy and yet you continuously lead my thoughts in directions I have never even considered. I think we are on a good path and I think we can make things better for me. I want nothing more than to be able to manage work and my house...to live comfortably and be 'okay' with me. I want to go to bed at night satisfied with who I am. I want the self hatred and shame to go away. I just want to be me...I know, intellectually I know I can't be that bad of a person, but I want to believe it.

I have not had my dexedrine and my mind is going a million miles an hour. I am able to follow through with a thought, but there are 10 more in line waiting to get their chance. I could sit here and write all night. Sorry, you don't need to reply to this...it is enough to know you take the time to read it. I am trying real hard to stop writing. I think the last couple weeks I have felt close to you and I don't want that to end...I don't want to stop writing because I feel like you are here listening to me...I am not alone. I am not alone. I have been alone for such a long time...but, now I am not alone. It is scary, somewhat exhilarating...letting you care for me is like a big sigh of relief...this is what it feels like to be comforted. I wish you and Peter [my pdoc] could just hold me and let me cry...I wish you could hold me and whisper that everything is okay...I wish I could just relax, let go and let you take away the pain...I wish you could protect me from the world.

Okay, I will stop now.

Thanks for being you...