Returning to THE journey

So, this is the 3rd time I've tried to start this post. My words are just not expressing what I need to say.

I feel like I am on THE journey again. A former therapist wisely told me that the role of therapy is to return one to the person they were meant to be. At the time that she shared this pearl of wisdom it helped me to keep a perspective on what or what not to expect in therapy. Somewhere, along the way I lost that perspective. For awhile grief over the move to Connecticut overshadowed everything and actually enveloped me. I began to believe that with the right drug cocktail or therapist everything would be "taken care." While waiting for this miraculous recovery I lost hope ... hope for my future. Now two years later I realize how self victimizing these beliefs were.

This week I feel like I am coming out of a void. I realize that there is NO magic drug or all-knowing therapist that will suddenly make me better (whatever better is.) The decision to change is in my hands ... only I have the power to cause change to happen. I must live in the present ... choose to live in this day.

Letting go of the past is so much more than just protecting the ghosts of abuse, it's realizing that the thought processes learned for survival are no longer needed. I have outgrown that self hating, guilt riddled broken person. I am born anew and I choose it.

And yes, most of these words are taken directly from conversations with a therapist. But they are wonderful healing words ... releasing words actually.

The Day After Thoughts

The day after Thanksgiving

Last night David and I talked about memories from childhood surrounding Thanksgiving. Surprisingly, neither of us have very clear memories.

One memory though was at my Aunt F's home. There were tons of kids my age and we all got to sit at the big table. I have a picture from that event somewhere. There was such a tremendous feeling of being loved. I always felt that in my Aunt F's house. She was a fierce protector of her daughters, so whenever I was around her I felt safe.

This year I ruined the Thanksgiving holiday for David. It was MY decision to go out. It was MY decision to go to the Casino and the buffet. Sitting at the dinner table in a throng of strangers it was like a veil was lifted ... I had been selfish and unfair to him ... dinner at the Casino was wrong for him. There is a time and place for everything, and this time in my unending quest of self-loathing I forgot about David.

Now, I have to wonder how many thousands of other ways I am being unfair to him. This whole journey has been unfair to him yet he stays. If I truly have anything to be thankful for this holiday it is David. His qualities are far to many to try and list here so I'll just leave it at he is an amazing man.

Thanksgiving and grief

This year I am back to a familiar place
A place where I would rather forget this holiday
It feels so bogus
Dysfunction haunts the depths of my soul

No matter how hard we try
Cannot create and honor a tradition
We've cooked, big Martha Stewart meals with friends
Small meals for just two
But it just never remains true

My mind ruminates on
the sorrow
the loss
what will never be
that familiar grief.

Two weeks, dirt walls & a victim

It'll be two weeks tomorrow since I last went to therapy.

For the first three years of this process I saw a therapist in Maine. She was one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. She was there with me through the darkest times, teaching me to release memories that had trapped me for years. With her I was able to take steps never available to me before. I was able to scream in anger at my mistreating, cry for the lost childhood and acknowledge that I was a worthwhile being on this planet.

Two years ago, my partner was offered a job here in Connecticut and I agreed that it was the right decision for us. For the first 9 months I would travel to Maine twice a month to visit my therapist and psychiatrist. Of course a 7 hour drive got to be too much over time. So, I began the search for a therapist here in Connecticut.

If you go back a few listings on this blog you'll read about my first Connecticut therapist The Smiling Devil Therapist later I found the current one. I have to admit I feel abused often after session. It seems that I am working on someone else's time table. Almost as though there are timed milestones I have to meet. Control of my process is no longer mine.

These past two weeks I have been saying how tired I am of everything ... literally everything. My other favorite mantra has been that I don't care ... I just don't care about, well anything.

Today, as I sit alone in a house chilled by the November winds I face the deep dirt walls that have sprung up around me. Did I create this trap for myself? Will I always remain a victim? Even to myself?

I Shall Believe

Not sure who this is to
Suppose it doesn't really matter
Touches my soul
So many ways


Come to me now
And lay your hands over me
Even if it's a lie
Say it will be alright
And I shall believe

I'm broken in two
And I know you're on to me
That I only come home
When I'm so all alone
But I do believe

That not everything is gonna be the way
You think it ought to be
It seems like every time I try to make it right
It all comes down on me
Please say honestly you won't give up on me
And I shall believe
And I shall believe

Open the door
And show me your face tonight
I know it's true
No one heals me like you
And you hold the key

Never again
Would I turn away from you
I'm so heavy tonight
But your love is alright
And I do believe

That not everything is gonna be the way
You think it ought to be
It seems like every time I try to make it right
It all comes down on me
Please say honestly
You won't give up on me
And I shall believe
I shall believe

Lyrics by Sheryl Crow, Bill Bottrell

Anger

Day of anger
Red face burning anger
Can't cool down

Twisted turned inside out
Too many failed attempts
Arms morphing into flames
Keep them at bay

Images of fire
Burning vision
Heart blackened
Ash blowing away

Sorrow long gone
Little doll with pin filled eyes
Stabbed like daggers
Punishing them for a change

Opened
A volcanic eruption
Bloody red
Flowing without end
Hunted down
Halted in their steps
Scorched and burned

Red faced anger
Can't cool down

Yearning

When is the right time to let go of secrets?
I have been vocal throughout my recovery about who abused me.
But I have also omitted one particular name.

It's a significant name.
Why protect someone who ...
Hurt?
Used?
Coerced?
Tossed me away like used trash?
Hated me for his actions?
I could go on forever.

Today, someone important to me asked pointedly who the others were?
I don't know what to say.
People will be hurt.
But why is it still my job to protect?

What lie within myself am I perpetuating with this secret?
Is this one of the reasons that I am stuck?
Unable to let go of the past and move on?

In huddling over this nasty secret I think I am betraying myself.
I yearn to believe that I am worthy of a healthier life than that.