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Once upon a time there was a therapist

Posted by EVH , 10 March 2013 · 81 views

*TW*

I know they say it helps. Talking about our issues. Pain shared is pain halved. They say there are people out there who know how to help us go through our messed up lives. Certified people who know how to help us fight our very private war that we seem to lose when fighting it alone. Trained people who know how to talk to us about our painful stuff.

I've never been a therapy person. I don't like talking about my stuff. What need is life to happen, people to come into my life. Things to change. My PTSD was really bad. I went to see s therapist twice. And I said: never again. I was anorectic and bulimic when I met met my ex boyfriend. I was on the edge. One day he took me out to lunch. "mhmmh pizza! Yum. Bite in girl or I'll kiss you to death". And I ate the whole thing. No throwing up, no looking in the mirror. I asked myself what's more important. That's how my journey to heal from my EDs began. When I tried to fight my OCDs which were a nightmare I went to see a therapist too. He put me on drugs. I swear I thought I'd die. I was like a junkie not knowing what's happening around me. I just wanna forget this episode of my life. It took me 8 or 9 years to fight it on my own but I did it. One day I looked at myself and said now is time to stop you fucked up freak. There are still things I'm struggling with ,like flashbacks, nightmares, insomnia or anxiety. But I've learned to control it more or less. And one day I'll get there.

I got an e-mail last Sat.: "At least try to find someone who is properly trained in this shit to talk to. It's just exercises of the mind." And as I was having a really bad weekend I decided to give it one more try. Well I should have trusted Einstein: "The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift."
Intuition. Gut feeling. I knew it.

My first and last T session in AU.

T: Hi...yyyy what was your name again?
E: (told you twice dude...let's see) Lisa
T: Oh yeah right Lisa, sorry, it's a very busy day today
E: (whatever dude) that's ok, no worries.
T: Where are you from..yyyy... Lisa right?
E: (call me Lisa one more time and I'll punch you in the face) yeah. Poland.
T: Oh where is that?
E: (you must be kiddin' me) Russia (you genius)
T: ooohhh yes, right. damn cold over there, isn't it?
E: Yep. We have yetis and stuff
T: Ah interesting. I was in Holland once, but hmmm... it wasn't in Russia
E: (...no comment...)Well someone must have moved it then (I swear I saw her brain boiling)
T: haha good one
E: (whatever dude)
T: So, what brings you here?
E: (ok, relax, say it, it's just a word) rape
T: ugh...ugghhhhhhh I see
E: (well now it's not just a word, not anymore) Sorry what was that? Can you please stop making faces?
T: I'm not making faces sweatheart
E: (don't you sweatheart me I barely know you and you don't even remember my name) Oh I see, must have been a muscle spasm then or do you suffer from facial nerve damage?(doushe)
T: yyyyy no no. I just...nevermind. Ok, tell me about the rape. How many?
E: (I'm not gonna steal your watch or why are you staring at it all the time ass face?) How many what?
T: How many times?
E: (1...2...3... breathe) well it depends on how you see it. 5 ... 3. I don't know to be honest.
T: You don't know? I'm pretty sure one can remember something like that? Unless he's making it up haha, just joking.
E: (baam in my face!) How do you know that?
T: Just years of experience.
E: Oh that. Yeah. Then you must know better right?
T: Are we being sarcastic?

E: (we're being pissed that for sure. Ok give her a chance) No I'm just kinda upset.
T: Why are you upset? Is it the rape?
E: (..................No, i loved that! I begged for more every time!) yep I think so.
T: Ok how many men raped you?
E: ???????????????? yyyy excuse me?
T: Just answer the question ok? How many?


Ok, A few days ago I promised myself to stop pretending being someone else and be myself again. So there I was in this nice clinic/office/whatever staring at the girl and thinking what the fuck I'm doing there. And decided spontaneously to be my gorgeous self for a little moment:

E: sorry what was the question again?
T: We're not paying attention are we?

E: (screw you) yeah, sorry.
T: How many men raped you.
E: So many: Posted Image

And I left...

What was that? What would have come next? Sharing some hot details? Like how they did it to me? Or how intense my orgasms were? Or how much it hurt?
Well here are the answers asshole:
#1. In every way you can imagine. And in every way you canít. And in every you'd be too scared to even think about it.
#2. yes, my body responded to what they did to me, each and every single time my stupid body thought that no matter what penis + vagina = pleasure coz how else can you explain it? I wanted it? "You like it don't you bitch. Let's make your first time special" Yeah being raped with a baseball bat, beer bottles, knives, their hands, tools, electric shocks and super glue made my first time so fucking amazing and fabulous. Thanks guys. It was really unforgettable. So yes it was very intense and fuckin' fun, my very first and very last orgasms in my life. Jesus Christ. Itís just disgusting. barf.
Iíd like to wake up one day having a brand new body. Without these disgusting memories. A body that wouldn't hurt. That wouldnít be that heavy to carry around.
#3. It hurt like &%%@$#(!*&^#_@_$($""@$*@__(*@ Have you seen the movie Monster with Charlize Theron? There is a scene which shows a very tiny part of this whole shit that they did to me. Except it wasn't in a car :trigger:/>/>/>/>/> click the link to see the scene :trigger:/>/>/>/>/> So yes. It did hurt.


On my way home I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or to cry. Well I found out when I came home. I broke down again. For the 2nd time in my entire life. Drained. Empty. So unspeakably tired and so very fucking alone. Christ. What's wrong with me? Am I just making this up? Is it just in my head like my back pain? Sometimes I think so much damage simply CAN'T happen to one person. It's not possible. Is it why she didn't believe me? Jysus fucking Christ, am I making this up?!! Am I?! Am I a liar? Like they said when I was 15? :-( don't listen to it. Get up off your knees girl. Now!! You can do it remember? White snow and blood. You got up back then, you made it home, to a safe place. You can get up now too. Do it! Fuck it, remember? Enough. You're not that girl anymore. Broken, hurt, numb, sitting in a pool of blood watching it flowing down the bathroom floor. Find it in you. It's still there. This strength. It's just pain. Fight it. Find the light that will guide you out of this dark place. Stop crying. Shhh it's ok. Please...get up. Please.

Believe her. It Is a beautiful vase. Worth fixing. Or at least worth trying to fix it. Just believe her. Close your eyes and believe. Not with your mind. Believe her with your heart.

Once upon a time, fuck it all. The end.



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