Because of the snow I was unable to get in to his office to talk to him so we had our session over the phone. We talked about the movie The Tie That Binds and how I was uncertain which part of the little girl’s behavior was real and which part was Hollywood made. The little girl talked to her dolls and confided in them. Dr. D said little kids do that with their toys. That made me sad because I never did that, it never crossed my mind to. I mean, I didn’t have dolls but I wonder if I had them if I’d have talked to them or slept beside them. Would I have named them? Who knows.
We talked about how children identify themselves as children because they’re under the authority of adults. That’s not the only reason but that’s one of them. I commented that maybe the reason I never saw myself as a child was because my authority figure was a bit different. I didn’t have a set bedtime. I missed school whenever she felt like picking up and going somewhere just because she wanted to that day. I didn’t do a load of laundry, a sink of dishes or many household chores until my sophomore year in High School. Past the 2nd grade I wasn’t required to clean my room. I didn’t have the regular limitations or guidelines other people my age had. What I had was a regimen of “vitamins”, “trauma training” and incest. I didn’t learn to cross the street on my own until my sophomore year which is the year I went to live with my English teacher. What an awakening that was.
Continue reading ‘The National Treasury of Me’
Dr. D said my unconscious mind is process a lot right now. Right now my dreams are shorter and to the point. A few of them are long and twisting which is normal for me but those have been few and far between. Recently the main theme of my dreams has been vindication and self protection. On one level I’m pleased to see my dreams aren’t always about me being hurt in some way but on the other hand I’m still exhausted when I wake. I still feel as if I’ve run a marathon but didn’t cross the finish line. If feels as if when I go back to sleep I’ll start at the beginning and exhaust myself, the next night I’ll do the same thing, on and on an on never reaching the finish line of rest and rejuvenation which sleep is supposed to bring. Whether it’s nightmares of “positive” processing I still feel worn out!
Note: In this dream I lived in the house form the 4th grade, however, like in most of my dreams I was an adult. My mother stays the same age in my dreams as does my brother. The brother stays 3 years old and the mother stays around 35 years old. My sister ages as do I which means in this dream I was thirty-eight.
Continue reading ‘Processing Dreams and Running Marathons’
I feel as if I’ve been running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Therapy started again which means between all the other stuff going on I’m doing therapy work. That two weeks was nice not having to show up and look stuff straight in the eye. This is my first week back since Christmas.
In therapy we talked about what it means to be an emotional bully. When I asked him if he felt I behave that way he wanted first to know what my thoughts are on it. I told him in my eyes and emotional bully is someone who steps on the emotions of others the same way a bully smacks around a weaker person just because they can. It’s as if they target certain sore spots and hurt the person emotionally because they can. A bully is someone who is a coward and who needs to feel better about him or herself so they target those they feel they can overpower physically or in this case emotionally. The agenda for a bully is usually to make himself feel more powerful and to put a protective shield around him that says, “Don’t mess with me.”
After explaining my views he said when he thinks of an emotional bully he thinks of someone who is domineering and relentless in their relationships. Everything is on their terms and without concern for others. He said despite how blunt I can be from time to time he doesn’t see me as an emotional bully.
Continue reading ‘Emotional Bully’
Negative self talk is loud right now.
I see signs of depression in me.
I think too much. I worry about what people think of me. I worry about: being in the way, talking too much, not talking enough, walking properly, dressing properly, looking just right, speaking just right, breathing too loudly, laughing too much, not smiling enough.
My therapist says my sister seems to have more of identification with her aggressor because she’s still there at home. Any division between me and the mother is pretty good for me. If I’m less attached then that’s a good thing. He said there may have always been some part of me that knew she was wrong but that part didn’t get a lot of attention because I was too busy playing psychologist with her. I was too busy being her shoulder to cry on, her clown, her whipping boy and dress up doll.
Continue reading ‘Up Late Thinking’
I saw my sister’s behavior as emotional weakness and I feel because of that “weakness” I was focused on for abuse more than she was. The mother said I was her favorite because I was a challenge.
It occurred to me today that I blame my sister for some of the abuse because she was “weak” and thus not as fun to abuse as I was. The mother abused her, don’t get me wrong, but she tore into me with all she had because I was harder to break. Why keep trying to break a horse that’s already broken? My sister was broken, but all the mother had to do was make sure she stayed that way. Since she didn’t take as much work then she didn’t get the amount of time and energy given to break me.
Continue reading ‘Broken Pieces’
My sister and I were in our mother’s bedroom together. She was looking for something but I had to use the restroom. I went to my mother’s private restroom to go but when I flushed the toilet it began to overflow. At first I didn’t panic I just flushed it again in hopes it would correct itself. Three times I flushed it and each time the swirl went faster and faster and rose to the top faster and faster. I was somewhat intrigued by the swirling which is why I flushed it continuously. Soon I realized it was useless and that not only was I standing in water but so was my sister by my mother’s bed.
The dream then changed so that instead of the toilet overflowing the water bed began to spill all over the floor foamy white water like a bubble bath. Just like with the toilet, the leak started out slow then got completely out of control. We searched the bottom of the bed to see if there was a valve but we couldn’t find one. The sister jumped on top of the bed to the headboard but the water came out so fast we couldn’t see anything. When I got up there to see for myself I noticed above the headboard was a private storage area of all our personal belongings. There were dolls and toys, boxes and boxes of them stacked around this storage compartment. I wanted to stay and look around but I knew we had to fix the leak before the mother got home.
Continue reading ‘DREAM: The Great Flood’
I’ve repeatedly said that my sister hated me and that my mother kept us apart but I thought of something the other day. What if she knew how I really felt about her? What if she knew despite all I did to help out that I resented the fact that she didn’t fight more? What if she knew behind my smile, behind my helpful hand was disgust and anger because she couldn’t be more like me? What if she knew? Maybe that’s part of the reason she hated me so because she did know.
I’d chase kids and pull them off her. I’d beat them up but then go home and yell at her for being so weak! Oh I was so angry that she never stood up for herself and left it up to me. While hitting those kids I was furious that they had the nerve to touch my big sister. Who did they think they were and why did they think they’d get away with it? Here’s a kick to the stomach and a fist to the mouth. Think about that the next time you want to put your hands on my big sister. But I’d turn around and go home angry, cursing and screaming (much like my mother) that she ran like a coward, that she cried and backed down.
Continue reading ‘Maybe She Knew’
RECENT COMMENTS