sad and confused

Tonight in therapy we did holiday survival planning. My mom (my abuser and still-tormentor even though I'm a grownup now) will be at my sister's for Christmas. I'm only putting up with it for 3 days, then getting the hell back to my own space and trying to recover.

But anyway, my T and I were talking about my sister, who has spent 25 years in the mental health field and recently has decided she wants to do family sessions with my pdoc, etc, "so that I can support you in the way a family member should." To which I say -- NO. She's much older, moved out when she was 15 and I was 3, and doesn't know a thing about the abuse, nor do I want her to. I've talked to her about the depression, and she knows I have PTSD, she just doesn't know why.
I told her about the cutting a while ago and she was good with it, didn't go all wacky on me or anything.

Anyway. At some point during visits with my mother, I end up wanting to hack my arm off with a rusty handsaw, much less cut with a knife. I can get pissed off just by LOOKING at her. So T and I talked about that too.

I was just laying here, looking at my scars, and feeling really sad about them. I made them because I was trying to overcome emotionally overwhelming stuff and I needed tangible evidence of the emotional pain. But other people caused that pain, not me. I'm innocent in all of this. Why should I attack my body when I'm not the one who did the initial damage? Looking at them just made me very sad.

I don't know if that's progress or not. Gregory (T) asked me to find a picture of myself from around the age the abuse started. I found my First Communion picture. I was this cute little kid, so happy and smiling, didn't look like an abused kid at all. How did I get from there to here? Where did that little girl get so lost that the grown woman has to beat her up so bad?

So I'm just sad for myself tonight, and confused because for once I'm not blaming myself. Usually I cut when I'm angry with myself, because I think I've done something stupid and deserve to hurt and punish myself. But tonight I'm just sad. I can't quite get angry yet, at least not all the way, at the person who caused all my trauma in the first place, but at least I'm not blaming myself for it. I just feel bad for that poor, INNOCENT little girl who got caught in the middle of some adult's pathology.

I dunno. I guess this is progress?

Candy

Sounds like progress to me, Candy!! Be sad for that little tiny innocent girl. Let your heart ache for her. And maybe you can get to the point where you know that you ARE her. Not "were," but ARE. She grew up, but she is still alive and still hurting. Be sad for her, be sad for you. You have had a lot of pain in your life, and you do not deserve any more. You deserve the affirmation and the comfort that comes with allowing yourself to be sad FOR YOU, your special, innocent, and good self.

*safe hugs*
Angela

Sounds like major progress. Doesn't feel like it though does it? I know I will have breakthroughs and just feel sad and deflated about it. I always hope that suddenly a light will flash on and I will say "Ah Ha!" and suddenly I will understand it all and it will all be ok. Instead the light will flash on and I will say "oh" and this soft gentle sad feeling washes over and a slight shift is made. It just doesn't have the miraculous feel too it. It leaves me wondering if I am making any progress. Then I look back and realize that each time I moved an amazing distance from the victim I used to be AND kept that victim beside me as a healing whole person. Does that make sense? I guess it does.
Carrie

I'm sorry it's a tough time right now. But I believe you ARE making progress, too. I'm glad you worked on planning your survival methods for the holidays. That can be really hard and it's good to have a plan and be ready. I'm wishing you the best.

I just looked at that picture again this morning and wondered where that little girl went, and why in the world I should be beating her up for things that weren't her fault. It makes me sad that I perpetuated the abuse, in a way -- after somebody else stopped beating her up, I took over. She was a sweet little kid and didn't deserve what she got. The adult me aches for her, but there's some anger there too, for not valuing her.

Gregory (T) and I have been talking a lot lately about validation and how to find it
and where to reasonably look for it. I've invalidated that poor little kid for years.
I wish I could just hug her and tell her I love her and that it wasn't her fault
she got stuck with rotten grownups.

I dunno. I'm still sad.

Candy

She is you, sweetie. You can tell her ALL of those things by telling them to yourself.

*safe hugs* Good luck to you and the little one in you,

Angela