Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Beyond Friday.

After Friday's session, being the mature adult that I am, I drank myself stupid.
And what better way of dealing with the desperation I was feeling?
(OK. You may not hear the irony that question is heavily weighted with... You'll just have to take my word for it. It is).

Although it feels as though almost every cell in my body has been screaming, the cries have been largely unintelligible. Trying to translate has been like walking down the street past people's conversations, catching snippets, exclamations, disjointed and unrelated.

I seem to be in very separate parts.

One part has been in agony.

Some nights have seen me curled, clutching my bear against my stomach, pressing into the pain in a fruitless attempt to make it subside.
Applying pressure to the wound, is what springs to mind as I type.
The writhing and the breathless, empty pain, reminiscent of the twisting nights where my sister's illness was so new and the loss was so raw and immediate.
That same deep and desperate ache.
The ungroaned, churning and building in the middle of me.
So, one part agony... Another, disgust and hatred.

It started the following afternoon when, despite the alcohol - induced drum, beating in my head, I stood under the shower, my inside no more than a shell. Sans feeling.
Suddenly and unaccountably, a photograph appeared in my head.
Dad and three little girls wearing white spotted, cotton sundresses.
One little girl is standing slightly in front of the others three figures. She has her arms folded across her, clutching her arms as though cold; and her face is a picture of frowning discontent.
Perhaps I was cold. Perhaps sulking.
But in less than a second, I was flooded with a disgust and self hatred so strong it might have split me in half, my body the tower of Babel and my horror as powerful as God's own rage.
It's my fault. I was the sister from hell. If I hadn't existed, she would have been ok. It must have been cold there in my shadow, playing in my head.
And that little girl, THAT little girl, she needs to be starved to death.
And she is.
I'm at my lowest weight in a long time today. It feels good to be in control of her.

A third part experiences rage.

Monday's session, which I can't much recall, stoked a fire of anger at myself.
How dare I have this... How dare I?
Everyday I work with children who have suffered the most unimaginable trauma.
Torture, rape, abuse, terrible loss.
I go and see the woman, I tell her and she listens.
She talks about me. My pain. Things that may or may not have happened and I am so, so, so angry.

Like me, this woman hears the most awful things. Atrocities. People who have suffered beyond what I would consider to be bearable.
And here I am. And here she is listening.
I can't get past the fact she must be disgusted by me.
I am invalid. INvalid. There are no explanations or excuses that justify my pain.
My propensity for weakness is astounding.
On Monday my anger and my fear is too much, and I vow not to go back to her and I am absolutely certain that I won't, because I can't justify it.
I consider an email which will ensure I am too ashamed to ever return, just in case my will were to weaken.
And now, come Wednesday, I am not sure how I will cope with not having a place to take this pain. Because I can hate it, deny it, minimise it, rage and resent it all I like. But it's still there and
it still makes me fold in half.
And I hate myself with all the raw passion of an angst ridden teenager, and all the weary loneliness of a man at the end of an unfulfilled life.
Today has mostly been a series of blanks inside.
My Very Sad Case came into my room first thing. She wanted to talk about a shock she had had.
I listened and spoke carefully. I wanted her to feel the care.
I taught my lessons, I ate some lettuce and tomatoes, I wrote my plans and I came home and curled up and slept.
Writing this post, I am again struck by the wave of disgust at myself.
There is no end to it.


  1. Praying for you!!

    PS: Sitka has an award for you at All Gods Creatures. You are a ray of sunshine to let others know they too can fight for their emotional health and freedom. You deserve this award.

  2. Hello little one

    it's me, Annie. feel better. I know what you think and feel and hate. I still love you.

    Annie <3

  3. Pain is pain. Pain can not be compared, will not let itself be compared no matter what the story is behind is. I can't feel your pain but I can certainly understand it. I'm glad you have someone to listen to your pain. I am listening too.

  4. So very sorry for you pain dear one. (((hugs))))

  5. Just read your post dear. Words I have none but feel your pain and share it too Praying for you xx

  6. I can soo much relate to often I too have given someone kindness, care and help and then went home....threw up or hurt myself. Keep fighting ok...never give up...there is a way out. I know it. I wish I could reach out and pull you out of the pain....but all I can do is listen...and tell you...I'm in your corner...always. Sarah

  7. Dear all,

    Before I try to respond individually, I want to apologise for not doing so very well. I find it very hard to respond and often do so at the last minute out of a feeling of guilt that I havent before.
    It feels as though I don't deserve comments or people's support... Replying requires me to acknowledge tht support, I think. Hence, the difficulty.

    Andrea - thank you so much for the award but I can't accept it. It's very, very kind but in no way does this blog offer hope to others.
    The fact I would very much LIKE it to, is another matter.
    There is certainly not a lot of wisdom or advice here.
    Thank you anyway. It was a kind gesture. x

    Gail - I've been wondering hou you are and how your mum is...
    Your comment made it hard to respond.
    I guess you heard a part of me that is frightening for me.
    Love to Annie. x

    Lostinamaze - It was acutally, in part, your comment on here that got me to therapy on Friday.
    I thought about your statement that 'pain is pain' and I thought, 'perhaps I have lost sight of why I went to therapy in the first place'... cos it wasn't about childhood, or my sister, or anything other than the simple fact that life felt unbearable and I was in pain.
    I'm still in pain but instead of knowing that, I am freaking about the reasons for it.
    So, lostinamaze... Thank you for your words and your listening.

    JBR - Thanks for the hug. Back atcha. x

    Runaway Child - Thank you for your honesty and for sharing it. I get it that you understand. Thank you.

    Sarah - As always, havig you in my corner means a lot and yet I find it hard to accept from someone wo has suffered such trauma.
    Thank you for understanding how hideous it is to accept care. Thanks for your wish for me.

  8. I reacted to pain like a wounded animal cornered. I reacted to care and support liek a wounded animal ready to attack. Somtimes i thin now I am just broekn in not feeling this way anymore. Yet my therapists say it is part of process as after acting this way for so long it became "normal" to me. Changing it for good isnt only hard it will feel strange for quite some time.
    Mill of hugs to you. I am in your corner, can relate. Take your time.

  9. I am so sorry you are feeling so much pain. Sometimes it feels like the pain will never end. I have to believe for you there will be a better tomorrow. Don't give up you have friends that are standing behind you.

  10. Paula - Yes.... cornered is a good way of describing it.
    And... I think you are right about it feeling 'normal'...
    Changing it fir good feels hard, partly because I don't think I deserve it to change really.
    I'm not sure. It hurts my head to try to work it out!!!
    Thank you for your hugs. I feel your warmth.

    Wanda - Thank you for your words. It's good to hear from you.
    Like you, I find it easier to believe in a better tomorrow for others than I do for myself...
    Thank you and know that I am thinking of you.

  11. Yes, I often have draw backs because I dont think I deserve, yet lately I have had some break throughs and I am set to not let that feeling overcome me again that I am worthless completely. Some is ok,as it takes time, but not all way back. I am out and about in history and woods and I will be thinking of you. Hugs across the pond