My Infant & Little Girl ~ Learning to Not Destroy and to Believe

Sorry, no Worship today. I felt like this was important to get out before I lost the moment.

Yesterday, Life Spacings had a post entitled "the journey from denial to acceptance to recovery" that deeply affected me. I'd like to share my reaction to it and that infant and little girl inside. But, to put this into context, please go to the blog and read the entire post. When I went to comment on the post, I was surprised at my reaction because, I was really triggered and it brought out some very honest, raw and vulnerable feelings.

This was my comment, "Even though I want to 'go away,' I was compelled to continue to read for it validates my own experiences. Although I've talked about some of my abuse before, this time around it is different. It includes the acknowledgement that I was only 5 when it started and that the family was a cult. For some reason, that makes it harder. Although I am not DID, I do hear myself saying shut up you are lying, it couldn't have been that bad, you are going to die, you are evil and you aren't supposed to say things like that.

Then, after I tell, before I even have a chance to figure out how I feel the suicidal plans, self-injury urges and that I'm bad or evil and need to die come over the loud speaker. Then, later, hopefully, in the same week I talk and write about them. Then, things get louder because I've told. All along I'm angry because I've told or I keep thinking I'm lying or should have done something to make it stop and want to destroy my little girl. But in the long run, I know that I am telling the truth, but I don't really want to know that people can do such horrendous things or that they happened to me. It is comforting to know that you respond in similar ways...you have littles. I just have my own voice condemning me. I don't want to believe that the abuse was as organized as a cult. Someone get me out of this...there has to be a different way. Sadly, I know this is the healing path. Sorry, that I wrote so much, but I think I was triggered as I just want to sob, but can't...my little infant stopped at six months."

I have always had a difficult time with wanting anything to do with the little girl inside of me. My immediate impulse is to want to kill her and utterly destroy her. I think, it is that she knows too much, talks too much and is a reminder of my childhood. Although it seems that I can write about what occurred, without too much trouble. I feel it afterward...maybe days maybe right after.

And, then there is me as an infant being suffocated or aggressed upon. I also want to kill the infant. Both, I think are reminders of being innocent and my denial that I could not do anything about what occurred which I apparently have a really difficult time with as staying here prevents me from putting the responsibility on my mother.

My mother, father and step-father did not want me and I was even told so or that "I wish you were dead. Or never born." Well, I internalized that very well. Now, it is me that turns on myself with worse words and actions.

Another factor, is the terrorizing, sadistic abuse that I experienced. When I talk about it I immediately start to attack or discount it and want to destroy my little girl. I just want her to shut up...I don't like what she says and I just want her to die and not tell anymore because what she says sounds so horrific. My therapist, tells me that it is horrific. I don't want to believe because, it is excruciating, terrifiying and I feel my rage. Also, I don't want to believe that people can do such horrendous things, even though I hear worse on the news, but the difference is that is not me. I don't want to believe that I experience what I have. However, the more I don't talk the more intense and frequent become the nightmares and intrusive flashbacks.

The problem now is that everything is pushing to the surface, so I'm feeling crazy with my emotions from being really, really depressed, to enraged, to numb, to tearful, to...where ever else. When it comes to crying, I can for others, but for myself it gets stuck. Mostly, because I stopped when I was six months old. That I don't want to believe either. Even though, I don't want to believe I know it is true. I just wish that everything didn't hurt, ache and feel so empty. That black hole in my chest is so cold, empty, excruciating and seemingly without end.

I have no idea if I made sense, but there it is for today. My ramble for the day, all because of post which I know was very good for me, so thank you for writing it. I don't feel so alone and it feels so good that someone believes me...okay, stop...I don't want to cry anymore. (I want to delete this post...spoke too much...just a reaction, I won't really do it)