We talked over the phone and tears streamed down my face. As I reached for a Kleenex a flash of a woman who had tears like flowers, flashed in my mind. She had no color. I couldn’t even see her lips or nose, just a thin black line in the shape of her eyes with daisy flowers pouring out and falling down her face.
I was trying to get myself together and hear him tell me it was a dream and it can’t hurt me. I said, my choices were bad. I could choose one bad or the other but no matter what I was going to end up with bad. He said, you’re right. I said, I need to remember that I’m 45 years old. I have my own home. I have boundaries and I do not ever have to be in a situation where I feel like her child again. He said, you’re right.
I’m ok. I can flip a switch in my head and turn her off. This is my head and the only voices I need to hear are those I want to hear. I have good choices now and I’m ok. It was a dream and dreams can not hurt me. I can turn off her voice with the flip of a switch.
I told him what happened this week-end and he asked me how I feel about expressing anger. I said it feels like I don’t have the same control I used to have. People know by my face and body expressions that I’m angry. I can tell people what I’m thinking and be angry enough to pull a post out of cement but they have no idea I’m that angry. I used to be able to use words to express my anger and do it in a calm manner but now it feels like I have less control and people get the hint real quick that they’ve pushed too far. I give warnings. I say I’m upset by the situation can we go in a different direction but some people, including Betty, don’t know how to listen to that, they have to keep pushing.
A girl here last week end pushed to the point of me telling her to leave. She was angryyyy to the point that it frightened me. I got Jane and my phone and came in the room and locked the door. She left. I stayed in the room. That was bad. The thing is, she’s Bipolar and she wasn’t able to stop doing what she was doing. She couldn’t stop and neither could I. Once I’m pushed to the point of Robert showing up then there’s no going back. He doesn’t stop…..not until Friday anyway. He was right to get up and walk away. Sometimes that’s what should be done even if its my home walking away is the right thing to do.
I told Dr. D I was concerned about the amount of anger felt that day. What he helped me to understand is that I did try to appropriately express anger. I didn’t do it perfectly but I didn’t fail at it either. I couldn’t see that there was a gray area. I felt I failed because the situation got out of hand but really, I there were correct steps taken to manage the situation and those steps count every bit as much as the missteps.
I told Dr. D that the amount of anger I felt about feeling pushed in an emotional corner didn’t match the situation. I was triggered and felt like a child with no choices, a child branded with cruel words. Nightmares following the situation on Friday were disgusting. I felt like I couldn’t get my mother off me. The nightmares make me hate myself. The words of the visitor discussed HURT. They hurt.
My eyes keep closing then they open and bat. It’s hard to focus on the screen. I feel …drunk.
Don’t ever call me crazy. Don’t ever call me a liar and don’t tell me I will do what you say I need to do because that’s what’s best for me. Not gonna work. Free will! I have free will! I have a switch I can flip to turn her voice off, too.
Words hurt, even if the person saying them isn’t completely culpable, the words still hurt.
March 27, 2017 – 10:17 pm EST