Archive for the 'Secrets and Confessions' Category

Black for Dummies

Published on February 1, 2012 in Abuse, Anger, Art Therapy, Emotional abuse, Emotions, Female Sadist, Letters Home, Secrets and Confessions and Trust. 0 Comments Tags: .

This entry is a follow up to the pink dryer entry . This handwritten entry goes into detail about how difficult it was to feel as if I belonged anywhere or was seen as anything but an object of derision.

The very first art piece shows a three headed child with the caption, “You can be anyone except who you really are.” This art therapy piece will make more sense if the pages are read concerning being black and how I was told to be an example for others. The example I was to set was insane and rather stupid thus the title, Black for Dummies.

My therapist and I spent a good amount of time talking how during this writing I stumbled upon the understanding that my sister should not be seen as weak for how she handled the abuse. Continue reading ‘Black for Dummies’

The Rules of War and Peace

Published on January 28, 2012 in Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Emotions, Fear, Letters Home, Relationships and Secrets and Confessions. 3 Comments Tags: , .

The very first thing I do when there’s a new relationship is think to myself: how can I get out of this? Where is my exit?

I need to feel in control by serving. That sounds so strange but really, if I provide everything….food, comfort, clean clothing, a clean house, affection, etc, etc am I not in control? It’s also a set up because when things go south trust me, you’ll hear about how I did everything and got treated like shit. I cooked, cleaned, kept that house running and still got treated like shit. It’s a set up. I’m telling you, I’m not the person to go out with. I go in looking for a way out and I go in setting you up to fail!

At this time I’m not capable of truly loving you but I am capable of being co-dependent.

Continue reading ‘The Rules of War and Peace’

Art Therapy: Changes in Black and White

Published on January 20, 2012 in Anxiety, Art, Art Therapy, Depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotions, Female Sadist, PTSD, Secrets and Confessions and Therapy. 1 Comment

I wasn’t feeling all that calm or collected at the time of these particular drawings which were done with an ink pen or black gel pen.

When I first moved here I thought to myself, my goodness, I’ve gone from the pan into the fire. For a minute that might have been true but its far from true now. For just a moment it was rough.

At first I decided not to do any more end of life foster care for animals or feed newborns. I figured it might be okay to babysit from time to time but I’ll limit that as well. I briefly did foster care for a 15 year old male tabby. His photo is among the sketches. Seeing that boy roll around in catnip was priceless!!! Ever seen an old cat drop about 14.5 years in a few minutes? Yeah, that was pretty awesome.

Some of my issues are the same, which I expected. I expected anxiety and stuff like that but I never expected to end up at my going to my mother’s house.  That blew me away.

Continue reading ‘Art Therapy: Changes in Black and White’

Womanchild in a Fairy Tale

Published on August 22, 2011 in Relationships and Secrets and Confessions. 1 Comment Tags: , .

A crush is so much harder than sex. Sex is easy, mindless almost, but a crush is hard work and complicated. It leaves me feeling vulnerable, less in control than I’d like to be.

Cowboi showed up in a white dress shirt, black slacks, black socks and black shoes. She had her hair spiked and looked totally awesome! Back to the shoes. I mentioned the color of her socks because that’s kind of important. Had she worn brown socks or God forbid, white socks that would have spoken volumes to me. I was truly pleased to see clean, black socks with nice, clean black shoes.

Continue reading ‘Womanchild in a Fairy Tale’

My Conversation with a Sex Offender

Published on August 10, 2011 in Abuse, Anger, Emotions, PTSD and Secrets and Confessions. 5 Comments Tags: .

I never thought I’d ever sit down with an offender and speak to him frankly and have him freely answer my questions. When I spoke to him I told him I didn’t need to know why but I did need to know if he understood what he put his son through. I needed to know if he understood the amount of damage he caused by his actions. I also asked if he’s repentant and if so what did he do to get to that point? It’s not enough to say you’re sorry or repentant; you have to act, move forward and away from those behaviors. What steps were taken to show repentance?
Continue reading ‘My Conversation with a Sex Offender’

Dream. Family Traits. Abstract.

Published on August 8, 2011 in Dreams, Mental Health, PTSD and Secrets and Confessions. 0 Comments

What stands out about this dream is how generic it is. Usually my dreams are long and drawn out, detailed. This particular dream was short and to the point.

In the dream my friend Sweet came over to see me and hang out for a little bit. The apartment was my current home but was set up in my grandparent’s basement. When the friend arrived I walked her through my grandparent’s house, down the stairs, through a second area in the basement then past my sister who was just outside my apartment playing pool alone. Once inside, Sweet said to me, “Does it matter that your sister knows?”  I spoke quickly and cautioned her. “You can’t trust her. Do not trust her.”

Notes: Does it matter that my sister knows what? I have no idea. The apartment in my dream was my current apartment only it sat in the very back Continue reading ‘Dream. Family Traits. Abstract.’

The Little Girl Next Door

Published on July 27, 2011 in Abuse, PTSD, Secrets and Confessions and Therapy. 0 Comments

I realize I still have issues with identifying with the aggressor but this here crept up on me and caught me off guard. It lets me know more work needs to be done on retraining my thought processes as it relates to my abuse and abusers.

I heard of a little girl who missed the school bus and tried to go back home but wasn’t allowed inside the house. She tried to call her stepfather who was home but he wouldn’t answer the phone so she called her mother at work who told her to walk in the snow to school. My friend gave the little girl a ride. Despite the fact that this happened years ago there was still a measure of disgust in her voice. She couldn’t believe how the little one was treated. I was shocked too, but more so at the little girl than at her parents.

Continue reading ‘The Little Girl Next Door’