Friday, November 11, 2011


Today was one of the most intense therapy sessions I've had in many years.  I don't cry at therapy much.  Ok, a few tears will flow while I talk.  But I don't break down sobbing.  I have too much control for that.  Today I sobbed and rocked and felt pain that scared the ever loving shit out of me.  My father raped me from when I was a baby.  He harshly rejected me if I was anything other than an eager whore.  How can any person absorb that?  My father molested me constantly in public and I was not allowed to show signs of it.  I was trained.

I don't know how to feel that inside me as true and let my daughters touch me.  I feel so disgusting.I feel so soiled and degraded.  So insulted.  My therapist asked if there was anything that would make me feel whole.  I told her I have a broken compass.  I can never save myself.  There is no saving me.  I have to live with that.  My three year old self is gone.  Never to be loved.  Not by anyone.  It hurts so much.  So many years of my life.  My mother and my sister were too far gone by then to really love anyone.  They loved more companionship in shame and misery so they didn't feel so alone.

It is hard to shake off the shame that was fed into me with the very air I breathed.  It is hard to believe that I could possibly do good.  For anyone.  I feel small and mean and disgusting.  I don't want to hurt my babies with this evil inside me.  How do I find patience to not pass on cycles of silencing.  How do I show them who I am without making them know things that are wrong for them to know?

I miss my mother.  And I can't stop crying.

1 comment:

  1. I don't think I have any pertinent comments to make. But I really strongly feel, after reading this, like I need to say *something*, just to acknowledge this. I'm here. I'm reading, even if it's sometimes delayed and out of order.