Looking for john and seeing those old photos and talking to his sister opened really deep wounds for me. It wasn’t just a reminder of what was ,and the horrible and sad and very lonely place I was at- it was also a remember of the childhood that I was destined to live.
I had my first panic attack today- I felt depersonalized/ out of my body as I was driving to walmart- I was thinking about how I want o get off of this paxil- that scares me – I font know how I would be if I was not on it while trying to hash out my childhood memories- my therapist wants to me start a grieving process for my childhood- im just not sure how to do that – I mean there is John-
the boy that I first allowed myself to get close to- I got vulnerable with him, and he hurt me – my step mom beat me yet gave me the things I needed as far as food and shelter went – my real mom complimented me and sang and danced in public....humiliating me.....my dad went to work- he just went to work- he let everyone around him tell him what to do- and they all made me get an abortion when I was 15. I don’t know how to grieve when I am just now feeling anger and contempt, and love and longing......
yet not so alone anymore........
I wanted a loving father- I wanted love and to feel love-im not sure that I ever wanted to take responsibility for myself, but I had to- and then when my step mom came in and tried to dictate my thoughts and emotions she just made the loneliness worse because she effectively told me hey your not smart enough or good enough to do what you were doing – which was taking care of myself- she did not give me credit for raising myself- for having common sense for being as fucking normal as I WAS CONSIDERING THE FUCKING CIRCUMSTANCES- all i got from her was criticism.....criticism that I was a fuck up- an major major fuck up- whether those were her intended responses does not matter -its what I felt/ how I felt- and this wound that has been opened leaves me nervous and unsure of how to effectively deal with this- to effectively deal with my past- my childhood.
