I am avoiding so much today. I am supposed to get these series of letters together for my mom.
I'll see her this week and tell her not to call me on Christmas. Because I can't trust her not to pass him the phone again. I think maybe it's better to verbally say this but I'm worried I'll chicken out if I don't write it down.
Therapist last week called her reaction blaming me. And it made me realise it was. She blamed me for his violence.
This week I hope to tell the therapist that I'm reasonably sure he sexually abused me. Which is context I am not ready to discuss with my family, given how unhelpful their reaction to his violence has been. But it's important context.
I felt shame last time when I had to admit I have not always been working and functioning. I've done really intense things and burned out, over and over again. I've been so scared of men and authorities that it blinded me. She's going to ask me about this but I'm scared to talk about it. It feels too close and too painful.
I've always lost control of myself. One of the things that makes it happen is contact with him. Looking at him. His face. His hands, his fingers, his back, his footstep, his voice. Hearing him, seeing him, has always been hard. I've always gone into the floppy trace once any of these things pop up. It was the trance for so long before. The trance kept me asleep for months. Not working, not studying, nothing.
It feels worse now because when I have to see him the things I see are the flashback things. It's so undeniably him. He way he walks, prances, sits, smirks, whatever he does. It´s him. He is in my face and my sisters hands.
Being around him is worse now but was always bad.
I'm barely holding back the worst things. A lot of it is disembodied and fragments. Pictures without links and I don't want the links because I don't want more pictures.
I don't want feelings most of all. I don't want to feel those feelings I felt when I was being crucified