Content – Verbal abuse account. Emotional. Anxiety. Mention of physical abuse.
Therapy was hard. At 48 years old I’m still not over the abuse. When I said this to Dr D. he commented that the abuse was extreme and for a very long time. It makes me want to cry. I’ve been running from this session for hours. I painted some to ease anxiety. The painting is as messy as my mind.
We talked about deliberate, well thought out abuses that she enjoyed. We talked about the only boyfriend she had when I was growing up and about recent nightmares.
We talked about love and how there was none to speak of growing up. The mother told me she’d never be happy because of me and that I was killing my love for her. I thought I was a horrible person. I couldn’t see it was all her.
She told me I was her favorite child because I was hard to break. She said she’d already broken my sister but I was a challenge. Dr D asked how that makes me feel and I said, Like cursing and throwing things. When I told him what she said, I had the strongest physical reaction. My stomach turned.
We talked about the quiet little girl I was before turning into what the mother needed me to be. Sometimes I get a glimpse of her and smile. I wonder if my mother remembered her or if she only remembered what she created.
I hid so much of what I felt that everything became a performance with a mask she created for me. If I wasn’t her little conversationalist and comedian then I was her punching bag and toy to abuse. No matter what, I was hers. I belonged to her like property and I was being molded by her abuse.
While many things have improved because of therapy, the fact remains that some wounds are so deep that they still affect my day to day life despite 14 years of consistent therapy with Dr D.
I will have my therapy painting done by Monday so I can show it to him when I see him again. Maybe after getting some of this out of my head, in writing, I can relax.