Becoming unstuck
Please note that this may trigger.
It feels like I’m falling into a black hole…
Over the weekend, the dissociative fog was still hanging over me… everything very detached and unreal… Then, in acts of what I can only consider self-sabotage and self-injury, I sought out ways to break through the fog. It wasn’t smart, it wasn’t pretty, and if it hadn’t been for a good friend, it probably would have led to some seriously stupid actions on my part.
It started off in the morning by going to the shops and buying some L&P, Salt and Vinegar chips and lollie cake… otherwise known as food triggers from my childhood. I didn’t consciously buy these things, but they were amongst my groceries when I got home. This stirred things up internally, but I didn’t really think much of it… the dissociative fog was still keeping everything very separate and numb.
Then, in actions that were so stupid, they’re ridiculous… I read an article about ACC’s mishandling of a clients psychological reports… I watched a 20/20 special on CSA… then one on a religious sect in America… then, to top it off, I read several blogs that talked about either consensual sex, or CSA…
Stupid, totally stupid… That whole concept of telling others to take care and look after themselves… totally lost on me.
After reading a blog about consensual sex, I lost it… Flashbacks came through like a freight train… Sounds filled my head… and the smells… the smells… stomach churning, repulsive smells.
I have no idea which young one it was who carried the memories, but she was hurting so much… The blind panic, the inability to breathe, the need to run… The overwhelming confusion, the pain…
Too much… just too much.
What does my head in about the memories, is why didn’t I say anything about what was happening? Why wasn’t my behaviour picked up as being odd by my teachers or doctors? Was I that good at hiding it all? Maybe I was, I don’t know… Maybe being part of a white middle class family meant that those sorts of things weren’t meant to happen to me?
Yesterday I remembered a new piece in the puzzle as to why I didn’t tell… At the rugby club where the father was manager, they had regular raffles. Each of those raffles had to be drawn in the presence of the Police. Each time there was a draw, the father used to take me to the Police Station. I remember that the Police used to joke with me that if I was bad, they’d have to lock me up. They showed me the cells. Put me in them and closed the door, so I’d know what it was like. I know they did this in jest and teasing. It wasn’t meant to be abusive. The always laughed and teased the blonde haired girl tagging along with her father.
This is why I believed the implied threats that I would be locked up if I ever told. That I wouldn’t be believed. That I was the bad one in the equation…
We went into see Allison today, hoping to talk about all of this. But we talked about a safety contract instead. I know safety is important, but I’m scared… I could feel the resentment and resistance to the idea of a contract and our behaviour being “controlled” through reward and consequences. I worry about what the backlash against the contract is going to be. Allison says she’s expecting a reaction… which is fine for her, she won’t be the one experiencing it.
I feel like an open wound… I feel like this… If you close your eyes and listen, it takes you places…
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Now playing: Wilhelm Kempff plays Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
via FoxyTunes
