Today was hard. I was rejected twice.

But first, my therapy session:

I restarted journalling late last night. I restarted journalling and then I restarted my attempt at daily blogging. Truthfully, I don’t want to share today. Why? Probably shame.

Last night when I was writing in my journal, I first admitted that I had been avoiding myself. I felt sad that so much had happened in my life in 7 days and I did not have it documented. I realised part of my resistance to writing was my journal is nearly run out. One of my favourite exercises to do, to celebrate the completion of filling an entire journal is to look at the first page and then look at the last page. You’ll have to wait a few more days for that post.

I noticed a pattern in my writing. This recent, constant tap dance between I am not enough and I am too much. I have intimacy issues, right. Intimacy issues with myself, with my partner, with my friends, with my family, with everyone. It all starts with my relationship with myself. I do not know how to ‘be’. I do not know how to exist. I felt good to have identified this pattern in my writing. I felt good that I felt resolved to share this with my therapist the next day. I didn’t have answers. I had a solid question, though. I am getting a lot better at this not having answers bullshit. I jest, kinda. It is bullshit though – haha. Part of letting go, I suppose.

The therapy session was not pleasant. Usually it is pleasant by the way, no matter what topic we explore. Well, if it is not good in the beginning, it usually is lighter by the end, or by the next day, or the next few days. It’s good to write that out. To realise that I am still in the midst of processing all of this.

Why wasn’t it pleasant? Well, reflecting, I think it’s coz she validated what I was saying. She brought up quite a few points. As follows, as best as I can recall right now:

My first time remembering how to do the dance of not enoughness, and too muchness. Well, I don’t really have memories to recall from. From what I do have, I remember big blow ups, my rage self coming out to play, huge reaction, running away, hiding under my bed, crying, deeply upset, unable to control myself. I couldn’t remember what had happened in the lead up, couldn’t remember what happened during.

Distrust of self because I can’t remember what happened.

Distrust of my anger

Completing exposing my feelings by showing my anger, by something I was obviously angry about. Didn’t get what I needed.

So I do the exact opposite – isolate myself, hiding under the bed, no body comes. I told her that I self soothed, in the way that I knew how. Then once it was over, I got up and pretended nothing happened, and so did the people around me. I still didn’t get what I needed.

I can be extreme in my behaviour externally, OR I can be extreme, internally, with my behaviour. Either way, I don’t get my needs met.

Now for the about the impact of abuse:

I get extreme attention in an absolutely inappropriate way, and then when I need help for that, I get no attention. Well, worse than that, I get negative attention.

I tell the truth. I am told I am a liar.

These are deeply internalised messages about how to operate in the world. How to emote. How to express myself. How one gets attention. How to get my needs met. They are all based on extremes.

(I openly admit I am an extremist in my approach to life)

I get treated one way, my sibling gets treated another way (the exact opposite, in my view).

The people my caregivers help in their line of work, they get all their attention, yet I don’t believed or listened to. I get tired, exhausted more like it, disconnected, emotionally absent caregivers.

I like to tear things down because I feel good in rebuilding them.

I am either drinking out of control, or I am absolutely sober.

When things get really blown up, I want to runaway and be absolutely alone.

Those are just a few examples, but there are so many, where there are such extremes, where there are very little in the middle.

I really want close intimate relationships, but when people get close I get scared and I want to shut them down.

I get asked what the feeling I am getting as some of these extremes being highlighted to me.

My response: Oddly, there is happiness or satisfaction of some sort because I feel seen and heard. It makes sense. Maybe humour too, that I couldn’t see that for myself. Also peace. Because most of these are historical behaviours, they are learned behaviours and I can unlearn them.

She then goes on to relate my healing journey to my extremism: It’s full on, it’s brave, it’s honourable, but it’s full on, like I want to plough on through this. I had mentioned that I wanted to get to the end of all this. I am reminded it doesn’t really work like that. A total commitment to healing, the rest of my life gets put on hold. Again, an extreme.

This came up this week. I am exhausted. I gave myself permission to just do nothing and simply watch tv.

My whole identity is wrapped up in this healing business. I do other things, I just don’t tell people about them. I don’t talk about it. I have this weird secrecy about it. It feels very exposing for me to show people who I actually am.

I also had curiosity for what it is like to be in the middle of that dance between not enoughness and too muchness. I truly don’t know who I am.

I was trying to dissociate during this session, like a lot, it wasn’t me doing it, it was a part of me doing it. It was pointed out this is another extreme. Working so hard to stay present, and then this other force drawing me out and away from myself.

I don’t know how to chill out, I don’t know how to have fun. I am way too hard on myself.

We learn how to have fun, and to play as kids. We learn about ourselves and what we like in that way, when we are children. It’s hard to have fun and play when it’s not safe and we have really heavy things on our minds. This was true for me.

That hurts a lot to write.

I’m tired, it’s late. This is heavy for me. I am going to go to sleep. Will continue tomorrow.

Lots of love,

Kate