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A key word that you will see:

Fragmentation: a mental process where a person becomes intensely emotionally focused on one aspect of themselves, such as “I am angry” or “no one loves me,” to the point where all thoughts, feelings and behavior demonstrate this emotional state, in which, the person does not or is unable to take into account the reality of their environment, others or themselves and their resources. This is a term that my therapist and I use and is on the continuum of dissociation.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Past Journal Entry ~ December 20, 2005 ~ Sharing

Since my last Past Journal Entry, in therapy, I had been talking about my step-father and what he did and how I felt. It was really intense, but I talked which leads to this entry.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ December 20, 2005


I've been wanting to write or paint, but too scared to do so. Actually, not feeling safe, not trusting myself. This last week or so has been so tough for me with the increased suicidal and violent thoughts and the increased desire to really injure myself and wanting to bruise and cut. (This is my response to having told the truth or just let myself be known; however, at the time, I did not have this connection)

Feels like my emotions are so up and down and all over the place and quite intense from wanting to hit, being really angry wanting to stab myself or put my fist through a window, wanting to just cry because it hurts so much. Being really anxious/panicked/terrified and feeling over-whelmed, confused and having flashbacks. (Anger toward my step-father and intense self-hatred.)

It felt good to talk yesterday. I felt so trapped with my step-father and was so scared. It felt good to finally have the thoughts and feelings of really wanting to kill him and hating him validated. Growing up felt like I didn't even have the permission to say I didn't like him. I really hated him and wanted him dead...wanted to kill him, stared feeling this way from a much younger age than I thought.

Last night, I asked my husband questions about how vans were in the past as I am remembering more details. He confirmed that my memory is correct. I remember feeling the floor pattern on my back despite the pads and sometime if I was positioned in a certain way it hurt.

Thought about that I wanted to stab my step-father repeatedly with the screwdriver in the back and that I wanted to pound on the window to get out. I wonder if that is why sometimes, for a longtime, I've had the urge of putting my fist threw a window or glass or just going through a sliding glass door.

Everything feels so jumbled up. Sometimes, I don't have any words to describe what it feels like inside. I guess that is where the painting can help. Sometimes, it feels like I just need to scream.

Sometimes, I think finally someone get how much I hated him and really did want to kill him. I really wanted to hurt him. Okay, so all the self-destructive stuff...have I turned some of that back on me?

Sometimes, I feel really bad for having the thoughts and feelings. And, sometimes, I know it is okay. I'm really thankful that I can talk about it with you. Never have with anyone before. So much, I've never shared with anyone. Most of the time it feels good just to get it out and other times, I feel really bad about it.

Observations: During this point in therapy, I was finally trusting myself and Geoffrey more as I was telling him things that I had never told anyone including myself. But the backlash is that I make myself "bad" which increased my self-destructive symptoms. I can also see now how much self-hatred is involved also. This was a very difficult phase in therapy.


Anonymous said...

CC, I think your observations here are very astute. It's great that you can see the progress you are making with trust (and this is a HUGE step). It's also very good that you at least recognize the self-hatred problems. I hope you can learn to turn those negative thought patterns around. You can really see how far you have come though! BTW--I linked to your blog with my post today.


April_optimist said...

One of the things I hate most about child abuse is how much we as kids do internalize what's happening, telling ourselves we're bad. I used to live waiting to die because I couldn't believe I would ever be worth anything, ever be worth caring about and that I in essence needed to live my life constantly apologizing to people for having to have me in their lives. Took me a long time and a skilled counselor for me to realize I might be a worthwhile human being after all....

Anonymous said...

CC, I've never been to your blog before. I glanced once but not properly. Perhaps I ought to make it clear that while I share the same name as your therapist and I am one, I am not the same person! I flew in via Melinda's site.

I wanted to express my understanding and compassion to you here. I was a victim of childhood abuse too. When I was actually able to face my feelings as an adult in my early forties, in the final throes of achieving my qualification as a therapist, I felt as though I was going entirely mad. I felt the most murderous rage and anger towards my father, the perpetrator of my abuse. At one stage I ran to a monastery and asked them if they would protect me from myself, from hurting myself too; that was entirely crazy!

I'm going to set up a new web-site soon dedicated to helping victims of childhood abuse. If you'd care to contribute I'd be honoured.

Take good care,


Anonymous said...

Thank's for sharing all things things. It must be difficult for you.

Isaiah 49 :15 -16

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