Where I Pick Up My Sword and Shield

I had therapy again today.  Much to my dismay, I started off in the same way, talking about how I was having more of these flashbacks, and I thought that the feeling of hopelessness was coming from a teen- aged part of me.  MT and I talked for awhile about how to work with that hopelessness and remind myself and the younger parts of me that I am grown and there is no more hopelessness.   I have hope…for me, for healing my body and mind soul, for my children, for my marriage….I have hope.  I think I need to spend some time talking out loud to those younger parts of me about the hope in my life.

I also brought my flashback diary with me again.  MT asked me why I did that if I didn’t want to talk about the flashbacks.  She said she was more than willing to read it, but she,was not going to bring up anything about what she read unless I initiated the conversation.  She then started talking about how maybe I really do need a break from therapy.  I will have a natural break for at least a week when I have my surgery.  She said that maybe we should plan for no contact until I feel ready to come back.  I don’t think I can do that for a couple of reasons. The first is, this surgery is going to take away any kind of using food to cope.  For a couple of weeks, I’ll basically be drinking protein shakes on a timed schedule.   With my new egg -sized stomach, there will be no just grabbing something to eat…even a healthy something to eat….every time I feel stressed.  It’s been hard limiting food.  Now, it will be basically no food for awhile.  I’m sure I’m going to need MT’s support in this area.  The second reason is I’m afraid that MT will no longer be there if I take a break.  Maybe she will close her practice.  Maybe she will have a full practice and no time for me.  Maybe there will be no available session times that work for me. 

Then we talked more about getting out my sword and shield and going back to battle.   I said, okay, maybe you should read the latest flashback and then we will talk about it.  So, she did.  MT did not seem flustered by what she read.  She did tell me my abusers were pure evil.  We talked about my reactions as a kid to what happened and my thoughts now.  Then I said that she could read the 2nd flashback and we could talk about that. MT commented that my warrior self was out and she could see me ready to attend to the battle at hand. That flashback included the realization that the abusers treated the dog better than they treated me.    MT mentioned that and I said yup, they were fucking assholes.  MT said,  notice your feet are starting to stomp.  What’s the feeling coming up and I went on a tirade about how it didn’t make any sense that people would that a dog better than their child.  At the time, they were blocking me from using the bathroom so I could gratify a fetish one of them had….watching someone pee their pants…I had to go so badly, but everytime I headed toward the bathroom, the abuser came running to block my access…and at the same time, I heard them letting the dog out of the house.  The dog was allowed to pee like a dog pees, but I was not allowed to pee like a human being.  I was so humiliated and ashamed when I could finally wait no longer and I wet myself in front of the abuser….and that’s what my flashbacks are of lately.  See, I’m being a warrior in writing this here because I’ve NEVER seen anybody write about this kind of abuse before and I keep thinking there must be something really wrong with me for the abusers to come up with this torture. I told MT today that I would never write about this, but I just have to.  What if it happened to somebody else and they feel as alone as I do?

Then, while we still had 10 minutes left, MT said it was time to stop and breathe.  We breathed in the pink light and out the yucky stuff.  Then we put the stuff in a boat and sent it out to sea.  This took a long time and lots,of hard work cranking out this rope that is miles long.  Then she added a new part.  I stood up, breathed more deep breaths, and each one energized me and made me able to walk away, ready to face life and be energetic and strong in the present. 

I did leave with more energy than usual.  I did not have to take a nap as soon as I got home. I have not had another flashback today.  I am present.

I am a warrior. 

I will win this war.

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “Where I Pick Up My Sword and Shield

  1. You ARE a warrior! You are brave to face these things and write about them. I have heard of (horrible) people doing this before. Even just the one night I was at Stephen’s house, he did let me pee but he made all these rules that made me afraid. That was once, I was older, and it was terrible. I can’t imagine why anyone would be so terrible to a child.

    You are so strong, doing this work and coming into your full, beautiful self.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Q, thank you so much for reading and commenting. I don’t know why they did it. I’m starting to come to an understanding that the abusers were sick, twisted, evil BEINGS. Not people. That differentiation is helping me in healing.

      Like

  2. You are, indeed, a warrior! There is something very strength claiming about daring to write and talk about what happened, isn’t there?

    Unfortunately, I have found that never mind how bizarre the abuse was that happened, it’s pretty certain that something much like it also happened to someone else. So your being willing to write about it is a generous act that I am sure will help others feel less alone.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I am so proud of you, Patty. The steps you are taking now are some of the bravest I’ve ever seen /anyone/ do– never mind how long you personally have persevered in this battle. In all the years I’ve known you, you have never, ever given up. You are a warrior.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It always amazes me that we hold these terrible things inside of us and we are terrified to let them out (like you said you would never write about this) and then when we finally do write them or speak them, we think we’re going to die, and then… and then… we keep on living. It doesn’t kill us. And we can keep going. No matter how much it hurts. I am impressed by your strength and courage and determination to fight through this.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m not really ready. That whole thing was rooted in the feelings of hopelessness. I’ve made awesome progress in the last 18 months and I’m pretty sure that the feeling of being done with therapy was rooted on my feelings of hopelessness. And MT not being able to figure out what was going on because I wasn’t really talking, led her to suppose that I had hit a wall and needed a break. But If there was wall, I broke through it the other day. Thanks for rooting for me.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s