We began by discussing the new diagnosis and how it is helpful to actually have them say they now realize the pain is as bad as I say it is. I talked about letting go of anger concerning the long wait. Validated too was the physical pain associated with having physical therapy.
Not being believed definitely touches any survivor. I already have in my head years of conditioning that tells me no one is going to listen to me or if they do, bad things are going to happen. I’ve learned that my voice means nothing, I and every other person abused learned that their voice, their wishes, their reality was subject to the edits. “That’s not what happened.” “They’ll take you away, not me.” How many times did I hear how horrible life would be if I ‘lied’ and said things were bad at home? How many times was it thrust upon me that I don’t count? To have the doctors now say, yes, we were wrong, isn’t enough. They laid too many bricks, added too much mortar to my walls so that gratitude for FINALLY hearing my voice can’t seep out.
I don’t WANT to be angry, I just am. I know this will dry up. I won’t hold on to the anger because it would work against the healing process, not support it.
Mother………….if only her voice would die, too.
My head has been all over the place. I want to write stuff, and do but then I take it down really fast because I think I shouldn’t have said it. There’s paranoia that my words are stupid and I’m being laughed at. I remember posts in the middle of the night then rush to remove them. Some sound haughty when that wasn’t the goal, others sound crazy. I’d rather be crazy with the private filter on. There’s a lot of worry about appearances, a lot of fear of judgement and a lot of time spent wanting to put my head down, cover my eyes and forget that my mind is split and I’m barely surviving it.
Abandonment issues. Issues with self worth. I’m self conscious, anxious and suspicious. That’s how I feel, and it feels bad.
November 21, 2016 / 7:00pm EST