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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, March 16, 2010

Past Journal Entry ~ 2006 ~ Glass

Past Journal Entry ~ January 18, 2006 ~ 6:30 PM


Felt like I was on the verge of crying in the morning and really wanting to hit and scream.  Feeling bad and wanting to cut, put my hand through a window and stab my leg. Wanting to die.

Then, sometime in the morning after, I got to work felt like I just shut down and had lots of difficulty being present.  Couldn't focus and really didn't get any work done.  On the drive here, felt achy and tearful.  Now, that I'm here I really feel like crying and screaming and hitting.  Really wanting to hit the window of my car until it breaks. [Still having flashbacks]

Remember wanting to hit the glass on the window pane at Grandma and Grandap's until my hand went through while watching my father drive away...really wanting to scream and cry.

Remember wanting to break all the windows of Gene's van with my fits just wanting out...to get away.  Wanting so much to scream and scream and cry...fight to get away, but I couldn't.

Rember wanting to hurt myself by putting my fist through my bedroom window at the duplex and house.  At work, I have two sets of windows in my cube that go from almost to the floor to almost the ceiling with many panes...I've often thought that I'd like to just put my hand through one. Remember, during my hospitalization and in college the weeklong and some of the training and supervisons wanting to just go through the sliding glass doors.

Remember, my mother's threats to throw me out or through the second story window.  Wonder if that is connected.  Also, remember during one of the fights that a piece of furniture got pushed into the family room window and cracked...it was never fixed until the house was sold.

I don't know what it is about glass, but making a fist in the drinking glass was how I really first discovered cutting.  Almost thirty years later, I still have a scar.  I used to fantasize about the glass cups by throwing or squeezing my fist in them unti the bork in my hand cutting myself.

When I started, I didn't know what I was going to write...surprised at what I wrote and feels like I jut rambled on...feeling like crying and just want to understand what it is about the glass.

[Two things really strike me in this entry.  One, it seems like I am really angry and have turned it against myself.  Two, that putting my hand through glass is like russian roullette.  I could have minor damage or I could have fatal damage. Speaks of my ambivalene toward myself and life.  Also, speaks of my self-hatred and inability to express my emotions directly instead I say what I want to do and the other person has to figure out how I feel.]

Past Journal Entry ~ January 18, 2006 ~ 6:30 PM


Isaiah 49 :15 -16

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