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A lot has happened since I was last here. A lot has changed. I think I am in the darkest place I have been in awhile. My desire right now is to completely withdraw from the world. Isolate. Be around no one. Part of it is a desire to not exist, and I am not going to do anything to myself just so we are clear, but I can't say I have much desire to be.
The last few months have been horrible, I feel lost. I can't keep up with everything, I am overwhelmed and exhausted. My father died a month ago. Basically from alcoholism. This has triggered so much in me I hardly know where to begin. I was there when he died, with my brother and sister, I held his hand. And yet I still cannot believe it, I don't understand it, I can't comprehend what happened. There is so much, it would be different somehow if it were a heart attack, or cancer, but the fact that he essentially did it to himself, yes it is a disease, but he refused to get help. He chose alcohol over his wife, his children, his grandchildren. And it killed him.
It feels like the ultimate rejection, he rejected me since birth anyways, but this is permanent. There is so much he will never know, so much I will never get to express to him. And on some level I am okay with that, relieved even. Before he died we were planning an intervention, we were researching rehabs. My therapist was encouraging me to tell him the truth, tell him everything, tell him that while he was busy ignoring me and doing whatever (drinking? watching baseball, gardening) I was being raped by my step uncle.
But I never had to tell him, and part of me is glad because I was absolutely terrified of his reaction. But part of me is angry because I do not understand it. I want to know WHY.
He had his own story of my childhood, his own version. His own understanding of me and my issues. There was his version my version and then probably the truth and we will never know what that really is. I suppose it no longer matters. Whatever his version was died with him, he left nothing to give any of us any sense of what was happening.
People who know some of the history with my father (which I find interesting) keep telling me my father loved me. As if that means anything, as if that is what I need to hear. In a way it is meaningless. Sometimes it is not enough. You can love a child and still screw it up by what you do to it or how you treat it.
I have been so triggered lately and have been having flashbacks. So much is coming up with all of this. It is like suddenly I feel lost and vulnerable, which is strange because it is not like my father ever protected me.
I quit therapy today. Tried to anyways, I do not know what will happen. I am technically "required" to be in therapy as part of my training program but at this point I just don't care. It feels irrelevant. We have tried recently to be meeting twice a week, but that has not happened. I was supposed to meet with her tomorrow. After basically running out of her office yesterday I called last night to cancel for tomorrow. she called back (I did not answer) and said it was fine and maybe twice a week was to ambitious and it was good I was taking care of myself. I don't think it was called taking care of myself, I call it running away and avoiding. I owe her some money for this week which I was going to give her Thursday, so I put it in an envelope and mailed it to her with a note that said I needed a break and would call to reschedule when I am ready. We will see what happens. I just do not care any longer.
I feel she throws training in my face, as if that is the reason I am seeing her. just to get through this program. She says I need to be able to do this to get through training, which is probably true, but feels small and stupid. I feel like my being there is much deeper then a training program, or something. That is just part of it, part of everything. She pushes me to much, to fast, she leaps from point A to point Z, and I am still trying to get to B. She moves to fast, I feel she does not really explore where I am at, just pushes me to be where I am not.
I feel like she does not get it. It is like she misses it. Or misses the point. Or misses the middle. I feel like I can't share with her how I am really feeling. I can't share with her where I really am. I feel so many things about it, and I don't know how I feel about it
A few months ago I was at this conference, and someone was talking about working with abuse survivors and how it is so difficult when achieving wholeness feels like it will kill you. And I felt exactly. That is exactly it. I have absolute terror of working through all of this. Where I am is hell, but it is familiar hell. It is hell I know. It is safer then what I don't know, what I don't understand, what I cannot comprehend.
The issue is, and I don't think this is even the answer, there are zero other therapists I can go to in my area. None. I would have to travel, and that is simply impossible, And I don't think finding a new one is the answer, I don't imagine it will be any different.
Part of me feels nothing will ever change. I am to wounded. I am to beyond messed up. And no one really cares or notices and it does not really matter because I don't really matter one bit. I never have, and should just stop trying
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