We put away some of the anger and upset concerning my sister feeling abandoned by me. I won’t deny her emotions and the reasons for them, but I don’t have to validate them either. If she feels abandoned then that’s how she feels, I’m sorry she feels that way.
What Dr. D and I discussed today is how I don’t understand it. For a person who couldn’t stand the ground I walked on to say she feels abandoned by me, doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. She hated me. Her behavior said she loathed me. I felt like crap, felt like I was there only until some other kid came along and then she could go off and play with him or her. My mother exploited that division. However, with a short conversation about how I felt I was seen by my sister, I was able to put away guilt for leaving a person whose behavior said she hated me.
We talked about the drawing firefly and how all three figures are me. The largest one is vomiting an array of color. Between her and the other two figures is a sunflower – a symbol of anxiety, dissociation and the like. He asked me who the two younger figures are and I said they’re me, they’re younger versions of the real me. I remember being more mild, more quiet, happy with the out doors taking a walk. I loved caving. I was happy in quiet moments grooming a horse, laying by the duck pond in the middle of the night looking at the stars. Bike riding was one of my favorite things to do. I felt so free. I was happy in nature and happy with my head in a book. I was not the life of the party. I was not a comedian, I was a little girl with a lot of interests who appreciated the grounding peace felt when spending time alone. That young girl who started off quiet became an actress because it was necessary. It is no longer necessary.
I don’t have to accept being laughed at for reading about subjects others don’t find interesting. I don’t have to accept the prodding to join a crowd and come out of my shell. I don’t have to be the rescuer, emotional support, clown or therapist. I am allowed to be myself.
I still feel that little girl in there. I can still feel the original version of me. When I don’t have my walls up or bars, thick and strong, I can get to her. It is an amazing thing to think that the real me, the real personality characteristics didn’t die in the inferno that was my childhood and young adulthood. The news that I can feel the me from long ago is inspiring. I welcome the transition from forced responses to natural responses. I look forward to more of them.