So. I have had my knees kicked out from under me by what is now something between a series of memories and full on flashbacks. My therapist says that the,latter are only memories that wrap me up into emotional response. Plus they don’t have to repeat, that also is my job. Bring up in therapy any stuff to work on. As long as it doesn’t involve taking or drinking anything it is better to dissociate some than to be focused in on the bad stuff.
Ur in love with ur ill.ess my therapist says. I say no my past she says no.no. you have a thing for your mental illness,u mess with it all the time doesn’t leave much room for much else.
I suppose so. I suppose i try to make it better by flying as close to it as i can. But u burn ur wings then no? Yes i guess i do. I melt my wings flying too near to my own sun.
So here,i am. Alot dissociated thryin to make my brain think of something–anything–other that this being left for dead thing.
And so i am Dealing With It. Well, not as much that as putting it into a Limbo until i can get help sorting thru it all. For the truth is that my perp was very careful to not leave visible marks on face arms legs. When i had to have surgery on my neck at age four it was never thought of to connect to him. His only slip-up.
So while i know that his threats to kill me left a big scar on my psyche, he would never have done so. I assume now that when he played Russian Roulette on me there were really just blanks in the gun.
But i still have this child this terrorized little child who believed him when he said oh ur still here i thought i had left you for dead. He would nevah have taken my life because there would be much to explain, too much. I wasn’t his firat victim after all he had three girls ahead of me who were his kids plus who knows how many other little girls or boys.
But here i go again, flying to the sun. Shut up, Terri. Deal.
