*I discuss many things that I’m going through right now so this post is very random. I apologize if it’s TMI but you guys know that I’m honest*
I’m having a bad day (if “day” can be counted as about 12:01 am this morning until now). It’s really weird to me how getting a new therapist could cause such an uproar emotionally and mentally for me. I haven’t been the same since the sexual abuse came up in our session, which was pretty early. We’re still very new to each other but we’re talking about things that it took years for me to get around to with my original therapist. I think it’s out of necessity though because, even though we’re new, I still have these issues that I need to talk about no matter what so it forces us to just talk about it. And she’s very direct; more so than my previous therapist. It’s different but it’s also been good in a weird way because she keeps surprising me with things that I hadn’t realized until she says something.
Case in point: during out last session it somehow was mentioned how much I hate being called a “good” person or anything like that. She wondered where that came from. I always thought that it’s just low self-esteem but then she hit me with a question, wondering if my uncle ever said anything to me like that. I didn’t understand what she meant at first and I tried to verbalize an answer when suddenly (for the second time since I started therapy with her) my mind started to dissociate and I couldn’t speak very well and I knew something was happening. I managed to tell her that something was happening and she asked me very directly to tell her what was going on. She helped me to stay focused and I came back pretty quickly. I was disturbed by my reaction but it was also extremely enlightening as I realized that there’s a connection for me when someone tells me I’m “good”….something that goes back to my uncle saying something similar under awful circumstances. It was so shocking to me that I literally had nothing to say back to my therapist. She said that was ok and that we didn’t need to say anything. I had to go home and let the new information sink in. It’s still sinking in.
I’ve also noticed that my sexual desire completely disappeared once we started talking about the abuse in therapy. About a week and a half ago I made myself have sex with my husband because my mother implanted the idea in me as a teenager that if you don’t have sex with your husband regularly he will have an affair and even though I made a point to try to ignore her insane musings, I must admit that this one stuck with me. However, it is never a good idea to force oneself to have sex when you don’t really want to, especially if you have a background of sexual abuse.
I’ve been in a very dark place the last 24 hours because I got anxious knowing that it had been a week and a half and he mentioned it. I had zero interest. I mean less than zero. Actually let me correct that; I had been struggling to not give into compulsive behavior. I had an interest in that but not in actual…whatever. Anyway, my mother-induced-anxiety kept eating away at me until I went down a path that I fought very hard not to go down anymore. I looked at things I’ve struggled so hard not to…just to give me something to think about so I could be with my husband…something other than what we were actually doing.
But it was like rolling down a steep incline with a cliff’s edge at the end…once I started I couldn’t stop and I spent hours in a very dark place mentally. And I mean that kind of literally. I felt a strange pressure in my head, I felt like my body was heavy, like I wasn’t in full control of my mind or my limbs. It felt like someone else was there in my head. And it felt inevitable, like this was always going to happen so why fight it? I can’t really describe it accurately.
Eventually I came out of what felt like a stupor and told myself to “get up!” Part of me wanted to stay in what was being called in my head “the Dark Place”. We wanted to stay in the Dark Place and just give up. I didn’t stay there. I got up and opened all my blinds to let sunshine in and focused on doing something else to keep busy.
It’s still a bad day. I’m struggling with depression I think. I think that’s been a problem for a while now but that I didn’t realize it until yesterday. I’m so sad but I also want to scream. I really, really want to scream but I don’t know why. I did my hair differently because a part really needed me to and I trimmed my nails and painted them black because that same part really needed me to do that. I’m feeling sad and fragmented and confused and I want to be alone and I don’t want to talk to anyone. I miss my mom (can you freakin’ believe that!?) I feel so alone, it’s ridiculous. I feel like I’m going a little crazy and it doesn’t help that my physical health is also getting worse which adds another layer of crap to everything else.
I need…I have no idea what I need. I f my old therapist was still with me I would have called her and asked for an extra appointment but my new therapist only practices two days a week. I don’t know what to do to help myself.
So I decided to write in hopes of getting out some of this awful energy. I have therapy tomorrow, maybe that will help. I hope it helps. I feel like canceling every plan that I have next week and just staying home until further notice.
Sometimes the weight of life and experiences feels like too much…too much to bear…too much to carry inside a person.