DiamondBug
Bronze Member
I don't really know what to write so this will probably be really disjointed. I have therapy tomorrow and I'm scared as per usual, I feel like he's going to judge me. He doesn't but it just how I feel. I have had two therapist before him and he is the best by a long mile. I was almost forced at my 3rd session into writing a statement for my 1st therapist about me being gang raped and tortured at 11 (those words are poison to me), it was the first time I'd ever let anyone know the extent of what happened to me, he is the only person that really knows fully what they did, but he's reaction wrecked me. It was a really horrendous experience, my second therapist told me if the same thing happened to other children it was my fault because I didn't report it to the police, she might as well of just killed me right there. I went absolutely berserk at her, I honestly nearly lost control and lunged at her, I wouldn't of been able to stop myself if I got my hands on her. So that obviously messed me up more. After that I got sent to some pathways place for people with schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder (which I don't have), I broke down there after being messed about for over 2 years and that's when I was referred to my current therapist, I had to wait another 6 months but now I've finally settled in to seeing John every Friday. I really do like him. I have told him about my second therapist and he was disgusted at her lack of support and really reassured me that what she said wasn't right. But now I'm scared to tell him about the first therapist in case he makes me read it to him, I don't think he would. It's just I remember the look on my 1st therapist face as he read further into the statement, it made me tremble and want to snatch those A4 pages of my horror out of his hand, kick him and leave. He made me feel disgusting, he didn't know what to say and I certainly didn't. He made out his reaction was because he was angry about what happened to me, but I didn't need that, I have enough anger encased in myself to not need anymore in this situation. I don't know why I'm writing this or if this makes sense I suppose it's just a rant. I've been smiling at work for 9 hours trying to look perfect and happy, it's a part of my job and I f*cking hate it. I'm dying and I'm smiling. It's making me well up. I'm telling myself it's going to be okay though, I'm not letting myself die now, I've been through to much to give up. I might of well of given up 10 years ago and I didn't. There's hope. I'll be okay