What I Remember...

I am going to start this post with a warning. For one it could be graphic and disturbing. Secondly, I am not sure how much profanity will be involved... So be warned, especially for those people that know me in the "real world." This post is about what I remember from growing up...


Family

• "You're never going to be good enough"
• "Bitch, slut, whore," etc.
• Cold, unemotional and unavailable father
• Accused repeatedly of lying when I said I had never tried smoking... So I started smoking.
• Self taught... I taught myself how to do everything because no one else was going to. (Neglect comes in many forms)
• Over protective parents who tried to control me... instead of teaching me about life and what situations to avoid (see Relationships below)
• Ambivalent attachments
• Hate
  

Personality Traits/Psychological Disorders

• Overachiever
• Ghost in high school... just wanting to blend in and not stand out
• Fear of being discovered as a fraud... that maybe my parents were right
• Fear of abandonment/rejection
• Serious trust issues...
  
• Generally just fucked up
  

Relationships

• They say you date someone like your father... in my case that was probably not a good thing
• To most people a 5 year age difference in a relationship (when you're young) would send up red flags... Not to my parents. The end result: Raped at the age of 13
• Raped again at 18 after being too intoxicated to give consent
• Random sexual partners trying to fill the void... seeking acceptance
• The forever association between sex and violence
• Raped again by a co-worker (does it ever stop???)
• Relationships filled with abuse... what the fuck is a healthy relationship?
• Don't touch me
  

Coping Mechanisms (Maladaptive Coping)

• Anorexic at the age of 10 (that's right I said 10)
• Self-injuring by the age of 13... started one day in class with a compass. Been cutting myself off and on ever since. The longest I have stopped for was 3 years. Currently at the 6 month mark
• Punching walls until drawing blood; heading to the ER for x-rays
  
• Problem drinker by the time I went to university
• Staying up late at night to avoid the fights (Phase delayed sleep disorder)
  

Therapy (the Good Kind)

• Azrael (or any other pet that I've had)
  
• Retail therapy (better then some of the self destructive methods any ways)
  
• Sitting outside at night because it was the only time/place I felt safe... Alone... free to feel
  

The Toy Store

Yesterday I was coming home from the dentist and had to stop by the drugstore. On the way there I stopped by the toy store. I have been trying to find a magic 8-ball. I never thought it would be so hard to find. Before anyone asks it has to do with work and I want to use it as an illustration for my agents. Any ways I spend way too much time in the toys section... especially with the games. It got me thinking... Why do I spend so much time in the toy section? I buy games that I rarely play but I do have a nice collection... Now the Nerf gun I do make use of. I came to the conclusion that it's about reliving my childhood.

My childhood is more about innocence lost... at least my adolescence any ways. That was about the same time I realized that family life was not all it was cracked up to be. I was beginning to realize that my parents were over-protective... to the point of smothering me. Instead of teaching me about the world they were trying to keep me isolated. I had to teach myself everything... how to cook... clean... take care of myself. To this day I feel inadequate, especially in social situations. It's part of the reason I tend to keep to myself. I don't want other people to see those deficiencies. Then I overcompensate for them so that people don't question me. It's a good system... and is about protecting myself.

Adolescence was also the time when I developed an eating disorder. My mom would insult my sister over her weight and I didn't want to go through the same thing. So I starved myself. But that didn't stop the harsh words or the insults. I was told I wasn't good enough... I was told I would never amount to anything. I was told that I was a slut... I was a bitch... I was no good. I still carry those scars with me.

At the same time I was somewhat naive. I was too trusting... I still am. I believed that everyone was good. when I was 13 I was dating an older guy. To most people that might have sent out red flags... predator warnings... But no... He went to church so I thought he was one of the good guys. I was sadly mistaken. I have blocked out a lot of the memories from that day... but you can call it seduction.... you can call it statutory rape... you can call it a lot of things. All I know is that it was the day my innocence was taken. I had nightmares about it... flashbacks... all the symptoms of PTSD. I saw myself as damaged goods... and it shaped my views on sex. It has an association with violence... a link made made stronger by the next rape.

So now a part of me is still stuck back there in childhood... trying to capture some of that youth I missed out on. And as a result I buy games and other toys that make me feel safe. To a certain degree I am stuck in the past. They remind me of a time before all this... a time when I was still innocent. It's about healing and self preservation. Now I just need to find a way to break out of that and get past it. Bring the past and present together. Let go of the past.

Here & Now the Lies Stop

I always hate it when someone challenges me. I do so well at hiding and just trying to fit in, not be noticed. I've become so adept at being a ghost that I sometimes forget who I really am. I don't trust people very often. Except online I don't talk about myself. I don't want to expose myself and risk getting hurt. But every once in a while someone will challenge me and in doing so strip away the defenses. That's not a bad thing since I don't seem to listen to myself. *lol*

As part of the Blogger Carnival there was a post called "Humiliating Others - Deliberate Abuse that Cuts Deep." Ever since I read it on Monday I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It really spoke to me. I highly recommend that you read it. One of the most important statements was, "And there I sit, looking at these beautiful, intelligent, sensitive people who think they're garbage. It kills me." It's amazing how much one, small statement can have such a profound impact.

In the comments Linda went on to say, "But you and I both know that what we're talking about here totally affects everything. That less-than feeling is like a lens, but instead of helping you see clearly, perverts your vision.

I'm going to write an entire answer to your comment in a post. I agree, acceptance is a big part of it, accepting you, accepting her, then throwing away a bad script."

I've become so entrained in thinking poorly of myself and using negative talk to keep my self-esteem low. It has a lasting effect. Linda's right, it is a lens. It is a lens that is used to continue on with the pain of the past. It also means that my parents still have control over me.

Linda's post has really challenged me to look at the lens through which I am looking at life. My beliefs about myself. I'm not worthless. I have value. I am intelligent. I still have trouble believing that I am beautiful but that's a whole other story. After being challenged to re-evaluate my beliefts about myself I came to the conclusion that here and now the lies stop. :o)

Therapy

I went to the chiropractor's today. I love Charlene although it's weird... she can read me better then most people I know. I don't even have to say anything and she knows whether it's a good day... bad day.... something major going on... She also does a good job working on my back but it's kind of scary how she can read me. But this is how the first 5 minutes or so went...

C - So did you get the results from the blood tests yet?
M - Yes I did
C - Well...
M - The platelet count is back to normal. The white blood cell count is a little low but the doctor wasn't too concerned about it.
C - The red blood cell count, is that still low?
M - That count cam back fine all three times.
C - So whatdo they think it is?
M - No idea. They seem to think I'm fine.
C - Amazing how they go from thinking the bone marrow may not be producing blood cells to you're healthy. You had me scared.
M - Me too
C - I was thinking I was going to have to drive you to Kingston or something.
C - With the suppressed immune system do you think it might be chronic stress?
M - Maybe... Stress... what stress?
C - I was thinking family stress
M - Oh you mean like my mother arguing with me about driving up to Scarborough the night before.
C - Are you serious?
M - Yep. She brought me to tears. It was impressive actually.
C - Ever thought about going to see a counsellor?
M - Hmm... last time I went to see one they just wanted to talk about my ex and how he was feeling
C - Okay a good one....

I'll leave out the rest of the conversation... but I thought it was interesting. I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks. The last few times I've been in it has been about the doctors and whether or not there has been any news. My family hasn't been a topic of conversation in quite a while... so why now? Shows just how well she can read me.

And as far as therapy goes... I know what's wrong with me. What, is it going to turn into a repeat of "Good Will Hunting" with them saying, "It's not your fault." I know it's not. I also know how to work the system. I was in mandatory counselling back when I was in high school. I let them believe things were going well and never really got anywhere. I know you're supposed to be honest when in therapy... but I do't even trust my friends and keep them at a distance. So why would I just open up to a therapist? I still have that protective shell. I don't talk about me. At least not about anything serious. I don't want anyone to see the emotion... and I don't want to feel it. So yes therapy would probably be beneficial... assuming that I could allow myself to be honest and trust that person... not something that comes easy to me.

Therapy

The inevitable question when people found out about my past is whether or not I've been in therapy for it. Not everyone asks it... but a few people think it. So to answer that question... yes... and no. When I was in high school I was forced to see the school board counsellor on account of the self-injury. They were concerned I might kill myself. I just lied to her on a weekly basis about how things were going. And after a semester moved home again. Even before that I did go see an art therapist. That was decent. Throwing clay at the wall is very therapeutic. The downside was when my parents decided to send my sister along. I made the mistake of thinking confidentiality actually applied and for the first time admitted there was abuse. Should have been a positive thing... that is until my sister told my parents. Then it became a nightmare. And that was the end of therapy. After being date raped when I was 18 I was back to therapy briefly. Then my dad decided I really didn't need it and stopped paying. Since I was unemployed that was the end of that. And the only other time I've gone is when Adam went psychotic and I was concerned. That wasn't terribly useful... and I haven't been back. Well okay with my LOA I got forced to see a psychiatrist but that wasn't really therapy... that was prescribed drugs. Maybe someday I will... but I doubt it