An old therapist asked me what life would be like without pain. I was stumped by the question. Life without pain? Hm, what is that? She was talking about giving up cutting. I knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon and I told her that. I told her that if I was going to work on issues I had to be able to at least have the option to do that. I told her that it is my decision if I will cut or not. The bottom line is, at this point I need that option. She didn’t like the answer but then again, it is my body.
In therapy last week we talked about this physical reaction I have before I walk into the restroom. I have the hiccups just before opening the door. I know why. I mean shehhh..i know exactly why. At first I didn’t. I had to try and think about what just happened before the hiccups started and then stopped. It’s just before I open the restroom door. From there we talked about flashbacks and EDMR or EMDR, whatever it’s called. He said that it could help alleviate some of the flashbacks and make daily life better for me. The reaction I had surprised me. It seems like I would jump at that chance but my reaction was that I needed the flashbacks. Strange, I need the flashbacks.
Sometimes the only thing I have to hold onto when I think I might be exaggerating about the abuse is my diagnosis and the flashbacks. The theme is the same, the “players’ are the same, the places familiar and the time frames are filled with viable proof. When I think I might be making shit up it is the flashbacks and the dx that let me know that there is no way on earth I could keep the same damn flashbacks for years upon years and keep them at the rate and at the intensity that they are and have it all based on fiction. So when he said that about getting rid of flashbacks I worried that I’d have no more real proof that she hurt me. Yes, they make life almost unbearable. They make life seem like a burden and a waste of time but they also serve as a symbol of undeniable truth that the woman hurt me. If anything at all is consistent it’s the flashbacks and the fact that I can’t get away from those three little letters (DID). Hell, as many doc’s as I’ve seen I think I can reasonably stop doubting that I’ve tricked them all. I mean damn, she said I was manipulative but give me a break here. I’d really have to do some serious lying to them and myself and keep up the details of the lie. Lies are hard to keep up with. You have to tell one to justify the other. They grow and get out of control. The story changes when it suits itself. My story hasn’t changed one bit. The flashbacks haven’t changed in theme and I don’t think I could get a reasonable doctor to tell me I don’t have DID. So if the flashbacks stop what do I have to tell myself when doubt does kick in?
Again, I’m a worry wart when it comes to this. I worry so much about being the liar my mother said I was. I worry that somehow, just maybe I really have taken it all out of context. So if the flashbacks are gone what do I have to counter that argument with? What can I say?
I just had another thought….why would I need to say anything? If this is a step to move past all this and not feel like a liar wouldn’t it be a good thing to have fewer flashbacks and progress to a healthier me so that I can be the person I want to be without hearing that bitch’s voice all the damn time? What if for one day, for 24 hours I didn’t hear her voice in my head telling me that people know it’s really me and not her that’s the problem? What if for one day I went to bed without this overwhelming fear that she will be standing in the door later in the night? What if?? My God!
I have this fear that I’ll get better or that I’ll challenge the things she says so much that I get better and then for sure the mother will think I’m a bad person because I’m no longer under her mental thumb. So letting go of her voice means letting go of any hope that I’ll be the good girl I tried so hard to be. It’s also frightening to think of because saying anything against her and believing it seems wrong. It’s like speaking out against a Charismatic Church and saying they are wrong about this or that. The fear is that strong that I’m doing some sort of “hell bound” wrong by saying anything at all against her. Like I will somehow upset God by going against her and saying that she hurt me and that she was wrong for doing various things.
There is a certain part of me that needs the emotional pain, a part of me that feels she needs to be kept in her place by the pain so that I don’t think too much of myself. So I don’t ever really reach happiness because it’s not really for me. I’m not worthy of it because I’m inherently bad. There is a part of me that needs the pain so that I never really reach happiness and have the audacity to accept it as if I actually deserve it.
The therapist gave me a hand out on EDMR. It’s waddled up the bottom of my back pack with the hand out on anger. I do not take it lightly that Captain has stayed by my side since the last therapy appointment. I know to watch how he responds to me so that I get a good sense of how I’m doing. It is without effort that I leave myself but it’s more than effort to get back and feel my body and realize that maybe, just maybe I need to not push so hard. He’s a good grounding helper and a good reality check…my K9 friend.
This entry is closed to comments. I’m not so certain that I could hear anything other than my mother’s voice anyway. I’d see some sort of wrong with the comments. I’d see some way that lets me know that the whole world wants me to deny her. Man she taught me so well to fear her in a religious sort of way. She never said she was a god or godlike. But man she sure has an angry godlike quality to her. And I sure as heck don’t want to hear someone misquote the Bible to me and tell me that all I need is Jesus Christ in my life and things will be okay. I just don’t want to hear it. It’s just so confusing right now.
Austin
Flashbacks: Life Without Pain-Saturday, July 29, 2006-2:24 AM
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