Finish What You Started

So at the end of my session on Tuesday, A started talking about how my letters seemed to abruptly end; without much/any closure, wrap up, or summarization as is generally seen with most forms of written expression. I tried to do as well as I could with my letter to God, wrapping up with my frustration of where I am at and what I feel I need from Him, but I guess it wasn't clear that was my intent. My letter to my dad is another story. I just stopped it.

I didn't sign them, either.

It was hard enough to address them as "Dear Dad" and "Dear God", let alone give them an author.

So when she asked me why I didn't sign or close them, I didn't really have a response that was acceptable to not probe further into. I didn't want to sign them. They hurt so much to write, that making them belong to me just hurt that much more. So she wondered if it was my unconcious mind telling me that I still had things I needed to put in those letters.

I thought a bit and wondered that myself. Is there more I left out? Did I hold back on anything? I don't think I did, but who's to say for sure? I personally squirmed at the idea of having to go back and re-live/re-think everything over again (and possibly more) to add to and/or close the letters.

So I was given two options this week. Go back and finish what you started, close out the letters, even if it is as "simple" as signing your name or as involved as adding more information... or journal why I am choosing not to sign/finish these letters. What is holding me back?

Journal Share, Part II

Sometimes looking back is just as hard as looking forward.

January 2009
Tell your story. Three words that haunt me almost as much as the story itself. Why should telling someone be so frigthening? There is a certain notion that if I don't acknowledge it, then I can pretend (at least around others) that it didn't happen. If only it were that simple. I have two main fears about telling my story. One: The actual speaking part. Saying out loud everything that I remember about that morning. The things I would have to describe and put words to. In my head they are memories; no dialogue needed. The actions speak what the words don't. Two: The worry that once they know they won't be able to see me as anyone else. All they will remember is this story. The idea of having other people know, think about, and dissect my own personal hell scares me. I'm afraid that people won't look at me the same. I'll forever be remembered for that story and those actions.

Hatred

All I want to do is cry. Life was going along pleasantly, then nothing happened. No trigger, no event.

Feeling that something was going to erupt inside myself, I grabbed my journal, turned on the shower and curled up on the bathroom floor (old habit to "escape") and just let my pencil do the driving. What I was left with is sheer hatred of who I am. I want nothing more than for someone to agree with me. To tell me I am this awful person who deserves everything she got. It takes too much energy to hope that there is good underneath all of these flaws. Too much energy to fake the good to balance it with the bad.

I feel empty and alone today.

Journal Share

My session this week focused on my list that I posted a few posts ago, the quotes from the book that stood out to me. I was so terrified of talking about those quotes. I didn't go as in depth as I should have. *sigh* In addition to that we talked about any feelings of anxiety that I had in the past week, as almost all of my emotions show in the form of anxiety. I had sent her an e-mail last Tuesday night after my session because what we had talked about was very overwhelming to me, and I told her I felt the need to quit. When she asked me about this Tuesday, I told her I wished I hadn't sent her that e-mail at all. Now I feel like I can't quit seeing as I've brough attention to the fact that I want to. She told me I had a decision to make, whether or not I wanted to continue in the cycle I had been living the past 12 years or if I wanted to take a different path. I told her I had already made my decision... otherwise I wouldn't have shown up that day.

My homework for this week is to think about the decision I have made to move forward even though the work it is going to involve is going to be very hard. I am supposed to write down any fears, thoughts, ideas that enter my mind when I think about this. Oddly enough, I had already done this before Tuesday... when I was feeling so overwhelmed with everything.

"I want to run and hide. I want to pretend like nothing is wrong. I want to go back to feeling numb, because numb doesn't hurt. I feel as though everything I have done this past year has led me down this emotionally draining path with little to show for it. Now I'm coming face to face with the face that I really haven't been dealing with emotions at all, but that I have been repressing almost everything. So what is this pain I have been living with? Why do I feel as though I've been doing nothing but feeling, just to realize the opposite? If repression feels like this, what will feeling feel like? Opening the door to this is like an avalance on my soul. I don't know if I can withstand the weight."