I've really been trying to give myself a break where it concerns my rage episode. I guess I see it as a little setback in my healing. I thought I was more in control of my emotions. I always thought my depression was my biggest concern. Now I know it's my anger.
We talked some about ways to deal with my anger more effectively. I've been writing about it. But I have no one in RL to talk to about it.
We talked about the importance of friends. About having someone who I can talk with, and who can talk to me. She said that would help, even if I don't go into details about certain things.
But I have no friends in RL. I'm isolated. Alone. Not only where friends are concerned, but at home as well. A has her life and social stuff. We do some things together, but not a whole lot. I have pretty much nothing with D. And after A moves out, I think I'll be even lonelier.
And I brought up leaving him again today. It was hard to talk about. We didn't spend much time on that subject, but I told her I'm still seriously considering it.
Dr H asked me if I hurt myself during my rage. She was concerned. I told her no, that I just broke a whole bunch of stuff. That my room was a total mess. I told her what I remember, but there's lots of blanks there, because when I rage I don't remember most of it. But I did tell her how much it scared me.
Then I told her about the nightmare. That was extremely difficult, for some reason. I think because it left me with that feeling that I know what dying feels like. I almost couldn't get the words out, that's how unnerved the nightmare still has me feeling.
She said she was sorry I had such a horrible nightmare. She asked if I'd ever had it before, or any like it. I told her no, but then I told her about the nightmare I had right after I was raped, where he was pushing me into the ground. Then she asked me what this new nightmare meant to me.
I'm still not totally sure what it means to me.
We talked about the fact that I'm now dealing with the rapes, after 20 years. And that I'm now dealing with the anger and rage I have for him. That finally dealing with it all might have something to do with the nightmare. Then we talked about the part where I died.
We talked about how I felt after he raped me, that dead feeling. How I laid on the couch wondering why he hadn't killed me. How, in some ways, I wanted to die. She said that being raped kills something inside the victim, something you can't really identify, just a part of who that person was.
She said that maybe somehow I'm trying to work through the terrifying feelings that he could have killed me, and the dead feeling I had after. But she said that there's something there, somehow it's related to those feelings.
Then she said that maybe part of that nightmare had something to do with me being ready to grieve for that part of me that died. She said that maybe I finally needed to let myself go, to grieve and feel for my loss.
I did get a little morbid, I think. When we were talking about how I died in the nightmare, and how I wondered why he didn't kill me, I wondered out loud what would have happened if he did. If anyone would have even found my body behind that building. Or if he had taken my body somewhere and gotten rid of me, like in the ocean.
My thoughts and emotions have been a little better this evening, but I wasn't in a very good place while I was in session.
We talked about him some. It was hard for me. I talked about some of the things he said to me. I told her about how terrified I was when he held his hand over my mouth, and how I could hardly breathe. We talked a little about him staring at me, and some about the first time I met him.
We've discussed that before, about me getting into trouble, and being in his office, and him calling me a slut. Today I talked about how, after he raped me the first time, he told me no one would believe me because I was the one with the record. And about how squeaky clean he came off to everyone.
And that pisses me off, that no one would have believed me because of his "perfect" service in the Navy.
I told her about how often I see his face, how I can't get it out of my mind. How, for some reason, I'm still scared of him, after all this time.
He's in my nightmares. Sometimes when I close my eyes I see him. I see him in men in uniform. I see him in flashbacks.
She wants me to get to the point where I stop being so scared of him and stop letting him control my life. We're working on that, and she said that maybe the more I talk to her about him, the less scared I'll be. Especially when I'm able to tell her my story and talk about it in detail.
Then she asked me if I knew his name, and if I remembered it. As soon as she said those two words, "his name," I immediately got this panicky feeling. I don't know why. I've said his name to myself. I remember it. I could never forget it. But for some reason, I got panicky and thought I was going to pass out when she asked me that question.
I just said yes, and then I said I didn't know if I could say it. She said, that's ok, that I didn't have to.
Then we talked about how panicky I still feel when I think about telling someone my story, face to face. We talked about the possibility that the rage, and the nightmare, meant I was closer to needing to tell my story.
I think I agree.
She asked me why I was still having such difficulty even thinking about telling. I tried to explain, and we tried to understand what I was saying. I went around and around, but I got stuck being able to put into words why. She asked if I still felt dirty when I thought about the rapes.
I don't feel dirty anymore. It's almost a feeling of embarrassment, but not that. It's just not the kind of thing that people want to hear, or really talk about, with all the details of the things he did to me. Those things are disgusting, and it's still such a hard thing for me to even think about saying the words needed to tell my story.
As we talked today, I wanted to cry several times. But I didn't. I don't know why I can't just let myself do that. That frustrates me. I really felt like I should, but I just kept stopping myself.
I know I'm working on healing, but sometimes it's just so hard. But I think I'm worth the struggle.