What a rough time today. Going two days in a row is rough. But I didn’t expect it to be this rough. I pretty much picked up where I left off. I know Dr. D is concerned. It’s hard for me to understand why. The same goes for Dr. W. On Dr. D’s urging, I left a message for Dr. W. The panic attacks. The flashbacks. They have gotten worse lately. I think I didn’t share this with Dr. W for fear of ending up in the hospital. I bet that isn’t a rational thought. They don’t throw you butt in the hospital unless you’re a danger to yourself or others. What I know, however, isn’t working to calm down what I feel.
For the first time in however many years I’ve been going, I admitted to Dr. D about the cutting. People sometimes get the wrong idea. For me, it was to externalize the pain I was feeling. I talked about how long it’s been since I last cut. I talked about the urges and how they’re getting stronger and stronger. Dr. D took it in stride. I had expected some sort of belittling. I don’t know. Scolding maybe. But all she showed was compassion. She asked the usual questions. When did I start? What made me stop? Did I feel in danger?
Today was another day. I couldn’t cry. I thought I was going to. I pinched my leg to try and keep it under control. I hate tears. I hear my mom’s voice. “If you want to cry, I’ll give you something to cry about!” It usually ended up with the belt.
She asked about how structure of childhood kept me functioning (although not in those words). I was trying to respond that it was some sort of normality in life. All of a sudden I was hit with flashbacks harder than ever. I’m pretty sure I was having a panic attack too. I vaguely remember hearing my name. But I couldn’t snap out of it. It was like I was in a film on a repetitive loop. As I calmed down, I could only stare at the fish. I couldn’t look Dr. D in the eyes. We talked some about what I went through in those last 5 minutes. It was all so overwhelming. I went back to the thought of routine and only could say there was nothing normal about it. But it was sort of a loose routine. I went to bed. He came in. He molested me. He left. I went to sleep. Every single night.
I tried to hide. I don’t know why I bothered. He always got me out. Sometimes it was with extraordinary anger. He almost ripped the closet door off once or twice. I finally gave up on hiding. There was no point. There was no stopping the abuse.
All of this came out today. Dr. D asked if there were any new memories. Nope. The same old ones. The ones that still hurt so much. I need to let her know I need her to be more aggressive in trying to get me out of that loop. Like I said, I kind of heard her calling my name. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t break though the images, sounds, feelings or panic. The one thing she did try to get me to do after I calmed down was to keep my eyes open. I totally understand that. In my history of therapy, that was something I definitely learned. It hard sometimes. I really want to block out everything. But by blocking out everything external, I get caught up in my head.
Dr. D asked me to come back on Monday morning so we can keep on top of everything. What was I going to say? I suppose I could have said no. But that didn’t seem wise. I know I need to keep working, especially through the radiation. Speaking of which, I’m almost half way done. Yay for me. So, I’ll go back on Monday. If I make it through the weekend that is. Dr. D gave me her cell phone number so I can always call or shoot her a text if need be.
From Darkness to Light 