PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: JANUARY 5, 2006

Past journal entry

January 5, 2006 – Saturday/Sunday Morning - 3:57 AM & 12:05 PM

Gary-

You were right about it being loud and my being more depressed and wanting to act out. I’ve really been wanting to injure myself…it is louder than it has been in a while. The forewarning was helpful. I’ve also been having additional flashes of stuff and nightmares where I wake up screaming. I’ve also realized more about Maye [step-father's mother].

All of the flashes occur in Maye and Bill’s [step-parents] bedroom. Some have to do with the makeup, tarot cards or both of us being naked. She showed me her privates and made me touch and had me show her mine and she inserted her fingers. Felt creepy and icky. I also remember and feel bad because a part of me felt ashamed, but another felt curious and wanted to learn.

I also liked the extra attention, just someone spending time with me. Makes me realize that I so wanted attention, but did not because it usually got me into trouble. Very confusing. I also am having flashes of Bill standing on the left side of the bed in a blue shirt and nothing else. He was erect and Maye was sitting on the bed with me. Also, at times, feeling absolutely terrified, enraged and in physical pain.

I really hate her and am having homicidal thoughts again about burning the whole house and garage. The things she said I did not believe her at first, but I feel bad because I believed what she said was true. I also think that my mother putting the tarot card of death in my room did not help. I never did like Maye and Arleen [my aunt] told me that everyone always thought that she was odd and it was not the psychic stuff, just her personality. She could really be mean to my mother. Gene was always right and always perfect.

Maye used to call up my mother and yell, call her names and cuss at her until my mother was in tears. I used to tell her just to hang up or take the telephone from her and hang up the telephone myself. Sometimes, the telephone would ring again after it was hung up, but we just let it ring. I’m assuming that it was Maye…before answering machines. I just realized that it took a lot of effort to do that as Maye and Bill never had a telephone. They always had to use the pay phone a few blocks away.

Just little thoughts and flashes and feelings. I kept thinking of leaving a message, but I got ridged again even though it would have helped. Everything is bad and I seem to feel ashamed about everything. Even so, I asked Adrian to take time off to take me to my mammogram this Tuesday.

Self injury makes a little more sense. Usually, it is about anger or feeling like I deserve to be punished or I have to hurt myself because I feel bad or evil. That is what she made the sexual and physical abuse into.

[No obserations on this journal entry as it has triggered me...sigh!]

Past journal entry

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ December 5, 2005 ~ Physical Abuse!

I'm kind of in a strange place with writing today (Sunday) for tomorrow's post. I have a lot of stuff going on in my head, lots going on in therapy, lots going on personally and then wanting to get back to writing excerpts from my journal.

I keep picking it up and realizing that I don't want to write what is in there because it makes things more real which is part of the purpose. I've been talking in more generalities in therapy which keeps me a little removed from the reality of how really bad it was, so I guess I'll start with my journal.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ December 5, 2005

Geoffrey,

I 'm really having a difficult time this morning with just being present and alternating from feeling agitated/overwhelmed to wanting to die/bruise/cut to having more flashbacks to tearing up to wanting to scream.

Remember arriving at my step-father's parents and beginning to exit the van and my step-father grabbing my shirt to pull me back and then my arm. He dragged me over the engine and pulled me into the section between the engine and the back seat.

I remember hearing him closing the door and hearing him lock it. I was really scared and felt so trapped. And, felt that dropping of my stomach. I remember him yelling at me to not be disrespectful and not to talk back. I remember thinking I didn't know what I did wrong, but I figured I shouldn't have said that I wanted to go to my grandparents instead of his parents.

Then, he slid into the back grabbed me, pulled my pants and underwear down and pushed my head into the engine cover and pulled me up higher. He kept yelling at me. I remember the feel of the pattern of the cover against my cheek.

Although I was faced in the opposite direction, I could hear him unbuckle and take his belt off. Remember hearing the belt go thru the air and hit the ceiling and then hit me. It really hurt. He kept hitting me and made the back of my legs and my lower back hurt too. The pain radiated.

Remember, he became angry that the ceiling interfered , so he shortened the length. Then, he was able to hit harder and faster. I wanted so much to cry and to scream because it hurt so much. I focused on the engine cover pattern, the latches and the warmth of the engine.

He was so angry. I was so scared. He was so out of control and angry and just kept hitting felt like it was never going to end because he was hitting so hard and so fast. I remember feeling like I was going to pass out because it hurt so much.

I was also really afraid that he would take me into the back and force himself on me. I remember the smell of the engine and the oil. He sometimes would lock up up in the back and he would force himself on me and it hurt so much I really wanted to cry and scream, but kept focusing on the black sealing around the doors and the handles. Wished I could just unlock the door grab the handles, open the door and run.

When he was hitting me, I kept thinking about trying to unlock the door and get away, but knew I couldn't be fast enough and when he caught me I'd be in more trouble and he'd be even angrier. I kept imagining that he was going to hit my head on the engine cover repeatedly until I died. Or that he would repeated hit my head on the window or try to put my head through the windshield.

I was so afraid that he was going to really hurt or kill me. I also, remember wanting to die when he hit me that time or when he would force himself on me. Feel so much like crying and screaming...I really wanted to then, but knew it would just make it worse. I was also afraid that he was going to tell my mother that I misbehaved that day which he did, so my mother began screaming at me when she came home, "that your are lucky to have someone to take care of you and should be thankful that he stays with you and you need to listen and behave with him."

Then, she slapped me really hard twice. I was so angry and hurt. The slap really hurt and it was already painful to sit. Then, she basically didn't talk to me for the rest of the evening, but when she tucked me into bed she warned me that I'd better behave with him tomorrow. Then, she made me kiss her which I really didn't want to do. I really wanted to push her away and scream and cry and was so glad the day was over.

Remember when Gene would force himself on me that I was so terrified. Just the look in his eyes. He looked so angry and it almost always hurt so much that I wanted to scream with each thrust. It was like all his anger was wrapped up in the push. I hurt so much. Felt like I was going to pass out from the pain sometimes. He was so rough.

Sometimes, I was also afraid that he was angry enough to choke me to death during those times. I felt like I was such a bad person that I needed to die or just wanted to get the pain to stop.

Remember being afraid of my mother when she was angry with me. Sometimes, in the car, I was afraid that she would push me out of the car while it was moving. I remember her threatening to throw me through the second story window. A part of me was really afraid she could get angry enough to do so.

Also, remember sometimes right before falling asleep being afraid that I would suffocate in my sleep. But, I knew she wouldn't do these. Actually, I really wasn't sure because sometimes, she could be so out of control and angry. She could really hurt me like with the ping-pong paddle, the yard stick, the slapping and slugging me.

Even, my father terrified me. The two times he threw me in the pool to make me learn how to swim, I thought that he was going to let me die. I didn't think it mattered. He could get so angry and his slapping me on the cheek or the mouth sometimes hurt more than my mothers. When, he spanked me with the belt it hurt just as much, but was shorter in duration.

Both left bruises and welts, but sometimes my step-father drew blood. It hurt so much to sit or go to the restroom. I don't think my mother knew. Actually, I'm not sure I wanted her to know because she would just become angrier with me.

I really was terrified and panicked all the time of getting hit or yelled at. Seems like everyone or someone was angry at most of the time just waiting to take it out on me.

Observations: This was really difficult to type. It was strange because I remembered it happening like a memory and remembered remembering it and all the feelings. I don't know if that makes any sense. But, it seems to have really made me, on a deeper level, realize how terrified and on edge I was all the time where ever I was. Geoffrey was right it was like being in the front lines of a war zone. This time, I also had a deeper sense of how young I was and how violent things were. Also, noticed that there was no way that I couldn't get the message that "I was bad." Not quite accepting, but getting there. I feel a little dizzy and buzzy, so I'll stop.

What is this unfamiliar feeling? Hatred!!!

I thought that I was going to be able to do a journal entry on today's session, but it was too much. I did a Wordle instead. Today, as I was talking about "the garage," I felt something that seemed familiar when it was homicidal rage. But, then it became something unfamiliar, hatred. I am trying to figure out what it is, so that is part of the Wordle. Careful it maybe triggering!! And, click on the picture to see a large image. I feel very strange, but I know that it is intense hatred toward my step-father and his father.

Today's session ~ Childhood, sexual abuse & torture

I don't really know why I'm writing. I guess, I just need to say that I am feeling a out of sorts. I'm really hypervigilant, emotionally achy, have a headache, feel like crying and am dissociating. I had my second 1 1/2 hour long session today. We talked about my mother and yesterday and blogging. Then, I told him about flashbacks that have been occurring for about two months now.

They have to do with my being tied to the ping-pong table and being tortured and sexually abused with spiders, bugs in the garage and snails. I don't want to really write anything else, but it is very disturbing to me. I'm glad I told him, but I think that I am realizing that it really did happen and it was horrible. I think, I just need a little bit of comfort right now. I'm really tired. I've been awake since 2 am and the little bit of sleep that I did get was filled with unknown nightmares. My childhood was a nightmare...I want to fully wake up and get away from its hold.

I think that I will take both of my PRNs and take a nap.

Therapy sessions ~ Fragmenting, anger, making connections and feeling better!

I had a therapy session on Monday and afterward was worse in terms of my depression, fragmenting, suicidal thoughts, etc. I was having difficulty staying present, tracking conversations, was hesitant in my speech, halted in mid-sentence and was indirect. This is what I usually do when I am fragmenting or disconnected from myself. I was also over-reacting to situations. I could not understand what was going on only that I was really angry at Geoffrey, so the morning of the session, I wrote this letter which I read to him. Information in [brackets] is additional commentary or explanation written on the same day. Come and read how crazy my head can be and also how I was able to turn it around and feel better by reading this and making connections on Wednesday's session.


Wednesday ~ September 10, 2008 ~ 9:13 AM

Geoffrey,

I know that I’ve been fragmenting since Monday. Actually, for a long while now. Which I know is partly why I am angry with you and I know that there is a lot of transference and projection going on. Even so, I am angry. I’m angry at you that the letter for the appeal was not completed in time and that I kept forgetting to prompt you. I’m angry that I had to prompt you. I feel resentful that I called the insurance company instead of you even though it is my responsibility. I’m angry that I don’t trust that you faxed it Tuesday as you said you would I’m angry that I am filling out my own bills because otherwise, I feel like I’d never get them. I’m angry that your answering machine keeps getting filled and I keep getting cut off. But, then I realize that I’ve been cut off four times in the last three weeks and that means I’ve been calling a lot, so I feel bad. I understand that you have had a lot going on with your mom and other personal stuff and I am sorry for that. The paperwork is a lot like my mother not following through for me with stuff like that growing up.

[My therapist generally does not complete most insurance forms and does not deal with insurance which is an agreement known at the beginning. However, in my case he decided that he wanted to help me, but I need the letter by 180 days which was Tuesday. He is horrible when it comes to stuff like that and I’ve always known it. I brought up whether or not he wanted to continue with this arrangement and he said that he did and apologized for not meeting the deadline. I also called him three times since our session on Monday to leave a message because I was not doing very well.

Although the situation with Geoffrey was frustrating, the amount of anger was out of proportion to what I was feeling. This morning I realized that it was triggering stuff with my mother. When I was in school, I used to leave papers for her to complete for school. When she hadn’t completed by the time I went to bed, I would remind her that I had to bring them to school the following morning. My step-father couldn’t sign them and my mother would leave for work without completing them. It left me feeling embarrased and with the teachers asking me uncomfortable questions…at the time, divorce was not as common. In fact, all through school I didn’t have any friends whose parents were divorced. I also cried in session remembering how I felt.

Last week, via the Internet I found out some personal about him that I will not share with you, but it made me feel like he really understood what I was going through and we talked about it and I felt closer and more trusting. Today, I asked him a couple of personal questions. The first one he answered and the second one he did not. I immediately felt bad and started to cry…I knew, it triggered something. I really cried.]

I did not like that I found out via the internet. I really would have liked you to have said something. I also know that it was my responsibility to ask. It feels like how I used to try and piece things together with what little resources I had. But, I also feel like I always felt in asking anything personal about my mother or my father. My mother would just become angry and start yelling at me. The worst time I remember was when I asked if she was married to my step-father. It was for a class assignment, but she started yelling, screaming and slapped me telling me that was personal and none of my business. Then, they started arguing and both started yelling at me. It was a horrible day. I felt so bad and like I should have known the answer. I was so confused.

I am also angry with myself because I keep getting stuck by not talking about what I’m writing on my blog and the flashbacks. Also, angry with myself because I keep getting stuck with crying. I’ve been wanting to ask you if I could have an extra hour, maybe next week. Meaning having two 90 minute sessions because I think it would help to get unstuck. But, then I think what if it doesn’t work then, I’ve wasted both of our time. I also am wondering when we can have a joint session with my husband to watch and talk about the slideshow, but I’ve been afraid to ask…I know I’m fragmenting. I’m angry that I keep doing that. [I asked him directly for both and we scheduled the to longer sessions and will schedule one with my husband.]

Because I am fragmenting, I am having much more difficulty with you taking vacation. I feel much more abandoned. I guess, it is intensified too because that is some of what I need to talk and cry about. I did talk with my psychiatrist yesterday and asked if I could see him the week that you are mostly away because that is not my normal week to see him. So, we arranged a session for Thursday. I did tell him about my increased depression, suicidality, sleeping more and fragmentation. He said that it was like I was going into hibernation, so I didn’t have to deal with the issues in therapy. He basically said that medication is not going to help, but that I need to work it through my therapy. I know that he is right. I know part of my anger toward you is about my being angry with myself and with my mother.

My psychiatrist also, at my request, showed me his appeal letter. I pointed out a few typos. He made me sound a bit worse off than I am which was necessary, but it also sank in a little more how severe my symptoms and my abuse really are. His diagnosis didn’t include borderline personality disorder, but did include Dissociative Disorder which wasn’t really a surprise to me, but to actually see it on paper was difficult because it is an indication of my symptoms and of my abuse. I think, that made me fragment more and I became more tearful, sad and angry. I wondered about your diagnosis of me as it helps me put things into perspective and context. [My therapist said, the same with PTSD, major depression. But, he adds borderline and does not include dissociative disorder NOS although I have symptoms.]

So, I actually have some questions in here. I am also feeling more focused and feel like I can be more present today with you. But, I am so scared. I also think that feeling closer to you last week scared me and now I’m trying to push away. All of a sudden I just want to cry. I’m glad I wrote this out. It helped me to clarify some things and make some connections.

[Overall, it was a really good session. First time in a long time, that I felt better afterward. I was able to really process and really felt proud of myself. I was able to say what I needed to, he took responsibility where necessary. However, most of it was my own issues and I was able to recognize it and express my emotions over what past issues the current ones triggered. I knew from the beginning that only a small fraction had to to with Geoffrey, but he was safer than having to deal with my past. Great session, but extremely difficult.]

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ September 29, 2005 ~ 12:50 PM, Part II ~ Memories Continue!

Continuation of PAST JOURNAL ENTRY ~ September 29, 2005

[Looking at my journals, I had entered into a period of a flood of a variety of memories that were intrusive and felt like something new was coming at least everyday. I felt this incredible need to write and then to read what I wrote to Geoffrey. Just remembering what occurred and telling it for the first time, I felt ashamed wondered if he believed me, wondered if I believed myself, felt bad, was sure something bad was going to happen, felt overwhelmed, panicked, was having panic attacks, disassociating, and having a difficult time keeping it together. I was still working at the time. It was a really rough period. I now know that it is true and am feeling more as I rewrite these entries. I'm ready, sort of, to accept them now as a part of my life, some of the time.]

My step-father's garage had four ping-pong tables set up for slot cars and one table for playing ping-pong. I remember cheering and getting into the race with my step-father and his father. My mother was standing off to the side and I knew she was already angry and agitated. Then, all of a sudden she started screaming at me for being so loud even though they were much louder than I was. [In hindsight, she was angry with Gene not paying attention to her and that I was involved, so I became the target of her anger, again.]

My mother grabbed my right arm really hard and I kept saying that I was sorry. [I didn't even know what I was sorry for, I just hoped it would stop her from being angry.] She dragged me over to the ping-pong table and took the green ping-pong paddle and spanked me. She just kept hitting me and it felt like she was never going to stop. She kept telling me I was bad. [Again, the reinforcement that I was bad.]

My mother seemed so out of control and it hurt so much that I wanted to scream and cry, but didn't dare. [I had learned not to cry so long ago. It was so automatic not to cry no matter how scared or how much emotional or physical pain I was in.] She just kept hitting and yelling at me about how bad I was, that I made too much noise and that I needed to behave. Then, she finally stopped and just left me there and went over to my step-father and leaned on him and watched them play. [Borderline personality splitting. My step-father was all good and I was all bad. He existed and I didn't. She needed an outlet for her rage and didn't direct it at the person that she was really angry with because he was all good and she needed him. Also, the borderline jealousy of her perceiving that I was getting the attention that she deserved.]

I felt like I didn't exist. Everyone ignored me and pretended like nothing happened. I just stood there for a while. I really don't know what I did after, but that evening I remember being bruised and having the pattern of the raised parts of the paddle. It hurt so much to sit, but I pretended that nothing happened. But, I really wanted to scream and cry and kept wondering what I did wrong. [Feeling really alone, confused invisible and empty.]

During another time, I remember my step-father getting really angry with me because he wanted to play with the slot cars, but I wanted to play ping-pong. [Childish and narcissistic] Then, the look on his face changed and I was really terrified. He started calling me a spoiled brat and grabbed my left arm really hard and pulled my shorts and underwear down and took the red ping-pong paddle that was almost bare of the rubbery stuff. He began to spank me really hard and just kept hitting me. It hurt much more than my mother and I was so scared that he was not going to stop. [Again, being the target for his rage because he could not control me.]

But, I was more afraid that he would tell my mother that I was bad that day. He kept yelling about how bad and selfish I was. I remember going away during much of this. I'm beginning to remember how scared I was , how much it hurt and how much I wanted to scream and cry. With him holding me I felt so trapped. It really hurt to sit and I was much more bruised than when my mother spanked me.

[Rewriting these journal entries and especially this one, I keep wanting to say that I was not physically abused. But, I read it and know that this is physical abuse enough to take a child out of the home. I'm wrestling with accepting the reality of my life. Sometimes, I just have a hard time believing so much could occur. And, I fight the sadness and the tears. The first time reading this and remembering, I felt the rage.]

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: August 25, 2005 ~ Teasing

I've been debating in my head whether or not to share this journal entry because if my family read it especially my mother, they would know this is me. However, it feels like I really need to say something because it is still a source of great embarrassment and pain. Teasing seems like such a simple thing, but both my therapist and psychiatrist used the word sadistic in describing what my mother and step-father did. No one in my family will probably read this anyway. But, I consider this a brave step.

Geoffrey,

I am remembering being teased at school about wearing the same shoes, jacket and glasses everyday..."same old." I remember coming home and telling my mother and step-father about it. They responded by laughing and repeating the same taunts and added their own like, "same old Clueless." I remember being confused and angry and like it would have been better if I hadn't said anything in the first place.

I just wanted some comfort and maybe another pair of shoes. They continued to tease me on/off for a while even years later my mother still does it now. Sometimes, it would be "Same old Clueless, Same old pants, Same old shirt, Same old dress, and same old face." The same old Clueless and face were the most hurtful. [I still am embarrassed just by writing this...like something is wrong with me.]

I learned not to share problems with other kids with them. I just wanted some comfort and to know how to handle it. Afterward, I just felt so bad...I was being too sensitive and wanted just to die. I walked away feeling a little angry...and ended up being told, "Same old Clueless is being too sensitive again."

I remember my best friend in Elementary school telling me she was 1/4 (insert race) [well, now you know, I'm not Caucasian!] and I came home and told them and asked how much (insert race) was I? They immediately laughed. I felt so embarrassed, like I shouldn't have asked, I should already know, it was a silly question. My stomach sank and my throat got tight. [I teared up the first time I wrote this]

My mother asked what makes you think that you are not all (insert race). I said I didn't know, but my friend isn't, so how much am I. I remember feeling so ashamed for not knowing. I'm not even sure I ever got an answer. But, they both continued to tease me even after I was married and my step-father was out of the picture, my mother called me "1/4 Clueless."

I was really confused. I thought I was asking a simple question. I didn't understand genetics. [I didn't know exactly what my biological parent were and my step-father was Caucasian. I feel really ashamed just writing this.] I just wanted my question answered. I stopped asking too many questions or asked my grandparents.

I remember learning in school about embryos and that at the beginning you can't differentiate human ones from some animal ones. One area of commonality is that a small tail forms on both. She explained that in humans it became the tail bone and in animals it develops into a tail. I was really excited and thought it was interesting, so I came home and told my mother and step-father when they came home.

They wouldn't let me finish and started teasing me and kept saying "where is your tail." By then, I was so flustered that I couldn't remember the answer and said something like it goes in your pants. They started laughing even more and asked me to pull out my tail. They were laughing so hard and I was so humiliated. They even told the rest of my family. I felt like my feelings were crushed. I went to being so excited to feeling really bad that I couldn't remember the right answer. I just wanted to share something exciting. As a result, I stopped sharing even more and became more withdrawn.

I never received a telephone call, card or gift from my father except for one. It was a stuffed animal, a frog. Well, I didn't like them, but my mother and step-father thought it was funny and began making frog sounds and purchasing frog t-shirts and knick-knacks. This was really painful given my relationship with my father and that I didn't like frogs.

[This feels like a good place to insert that I have always been scared of snails. I know it is unreasonable. But, my step-father knowing this used to chase me around with them, line them on the walkway so I'd get upset, used them in some of the sexual abuse, and put them on the outside of my bedroom window. Once, while running away from him I bit my mother and lost my tooth and was she mad at me.]

[Although this was written two years ago the next two paragraphs still hold true right now.] I felt so ashamed. Even embarrassed to write this. Felt humiliating. I can hear them laughing. Sometimes, I would hit myself with my fist. What makes it worse is that they would tease for at least everyday, several times a day for about a week, then occasionally. But, my mother still brings it up now by saying, "Oh, you remember same old Clueless...same old face...same old shoes. You're 1/4 aren't you? Show us your tail." [It confuses my husband, but now he knows not to ask my family questions. I'll tell him later]

I just laugh it off and walk away. I'm really embarrassed and afraid to say anything fearing the same responses of more teasing or being told I'm just too sensitive or that I'm making a big deal out of nothing.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: August 23, 2005

Geoffrey,

I've been feeling tearful on and off for the past couple of weeks. Not really sure why. I think, some of it is remembering how bad I felt all the time and how anxious and overwhelmed and scared. Also, realizing how young the self-injury began and the circumstance of my family and how I wouldn't cry.

Yesterday, at the end of the session, was really difficult because usually the flashbacks are more isolated to one room...like I'm not aware of the whole atmosphere or the other rooms in the house. But, it was like I was literally in my room at the apartment and was aware of the whole place, the atmosphere, the sounds, the sounds outside, feeling my feet on the carpet, just aware of all my surroundings. It was quite disturbing because how I felt then went with it.

It was like I was standing in my room after my mother came in and yelled at me, grabbed me and slapped me during an argument with my step-father. I remember how bad I felt and how confused I was and feeling really alone and scared to move or say anything. I just stood in the middle of my room feeling like crying, but not daring to do so.

So easy to make the tears go away. Wanting so much to just disappear and die. Not understanding what I did wrong. And afraid she would come in again. Remember Gene turning up the volume of the television and my mother banging around in the kitchen. The dilemma, do I go in and offer to help to calm her down or will it make it worse or will she suddenly call me angry that I didn't know that she wanted help. (my stomach, chest and throat hurt)

In that position so many times. She really did hit a lot and I was scared all the time. After a while it didn't hurt anymore and I got a little more attuned when it was going to happen, so I was able to brace myself and numb out a little. And, she yelled or screamed at me quite frequently. Sometimes, it would anger my step-father then he'd start screaming at me. I was terrified...he'd get that look in his eyes and would grab my arm and get right in my face. I couldn't move because of the way he held my arm. I hurt too.

I can hear them yelling at each other and at me in my head...it is so loud and I just want to die. I was so scared all the time. I used to bruise or burn myself sometimes just to numb out or stop myself from crying. I used to hit myself after my-step father would touch me. I used to think that he only used his fingers when I was in bed except for the time at his parents, but he did more. I feel like crying. It was on the days that he would take care of me. It was in the morning.

Seems like there was yelling almost constantly from before I was even born. Feels like I was scared of everyone my mother, my step-father, his father, my father, and his father.

I also remember I liked living with my grandparents and grandpa walking me to school, kindergarten. Also, remembering wishing I could disappear or that I needed to die because they argued about me, my mother and father. Afterward, I was never sure if she was going to come to me angry or wanting my comfort.

I remember a few times waiting on the porch for him and them arguing before we left. I remember his apartment and sleeping on the couch staring at the Cheerios on top of the refrigerator. Remember being afraid of his temper. He was really strict, so I felt like I was afraid to say anything. One time, he spanked me with his belt with my pants down because I spilled the cereal. I was three and terrified. Slowly, the visits stopped and were never overnight or where he lived.

Just seems like I was scared and anxious all the time...don't really remember not being so. Felt so alone, my stomach, chest and throat hurt again. Every now and then, I get like a wave of sadness or fear go through my body. I remember feeling that much of the time. I can't cry even though I feel like it.

The arguing, my mother or my step-father screaming at me, my mother slapping me and the bruising and burning happened a lot more than I thought I wanted to acknowledge. Keep having waves of anxiety and wanting to cry. I guess, that is what it was like then, all the time, even when it was quiet. It didn't take much for it to change in a split second. I think panic and overwhelmed are good descriptions of how I felt. On edge is a good one too.

Hurting myself numbed me out...also, a way to express my anger and how bad I felt. Feels like there was so much pressure to do the "right thing." Remember how painful and confusing the teasing was and how bad I felt. Wanting to immediately cry and feeling really crushed...I eventually stopped sharing even positive stuff and asking questions. Numb out...just go away. Slowly disappearing and losing myself.

Can't remember when I stopped crying I know we talked about that it probably happened in infancy. I feel kind of a numb sadness. I can hear so much yelling in my head...feels a little crazy...like I don't have control to turn it off or lower the volume. Sometimes, this goes through my head during the day. Feeling like crying or screaming or both.

Observations: I don't preview what is coming next in my journal, I usual just write as I go. However, I would swear this sounds like I completed the slideshow in time for this journal entry because so much of it is contained in the images. It is also a little of where I am at with still trying to accept and come to terms with how bad it was and how bad my acting out was. I still can't cry even though it feels like I would feel better if I could just sob.

Feeling overwhelmed ~ Gap in Time

I'm skipping over a huge period of journaling in 2005 which is most of the month of August 2005. Going over it was too overwhelming and had a lot to do with working, my relationship with Geoffrey and my continuing to self-injure. It was getting worse and I was feeling really disconnected and fragmenting a lot to the point where everything he was saying was "critical" to me. Some of it was, but most of it wasn't.

Geoffrey had become frustrated with my increasing frequency and intensity of bruising. Sometimes, it was everyday and several times during that day. It escalated to my hitting myself from my thighs to the top of my buttocks with a wooden spoon over 200 times at a time leaving welts and bruises. At times, it would also include taking a plastic hairbrush and removing the nubs and hitting myself at least until I was bleeding all over the area and then 100 time more once the bleeding started.

Right now, I am feeling so ashamed, embarrassed and in shock that I actually am going to post this. I actually feel kind of sick from anxiety of potential reactions. The only thing that I could tell you is that I wanted to numb out, I was feeling like I was bad, and like I needed to be punished partly for talking about the sexual abuse more. It was like I really wanted to injure myself to the point of thinking of breaking a bone.

Geoffrey says that my symptoms were/are severe which matches the abuse that I describe. It makes the puzzle pieces fall into place. This is hard for me to really take hold of and admit. Which is also where I am stuck in therapy right now. I don't want to admit how bad things were or how sick my mother is because then I have to deal with that reality of it was that bad.

I feel like every part of me wants to scream, "no, it was not that bad." I'm not really sure why. I think, part of it is because I don't want to feel the pain of how bad it was growing up. After this afternoon's session, I also think that I am angry that I have to learn how to comfort myself now because my mother never did that for me. I comforted her.

I just don't really understand there is so much in my head right now that I feel like I'm spinning and really need to talk with Geoffrey, but somehow I stop myself. Today, I heard what he was saying as I wasn't doing enough and I was purposefully resisting treatment. A part of me knows that wasn't what he was saying and the BPD part is in "I'm bad," so everything is getting filtered through that. I want to curl up and die. I think, I'll take a couple of my PRNs and take a nap.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 28, 2005~during work day

Hi Everyone!!! Yesterday's post and Wordle did me in...cannot focus on my mother right now. I am emotionally exhausted. So, here is a journal entry.


Geoffrey,

It is so very loud today...the suicidal thoughts, the plans, wanting to cut and bruise and planning ways to do it at work, wanting to die, the flashbacks and feeling bad.

I think, the feeling bad was made worse by two of my coworkers being very loud and wearing a lot of fragrance. Also, I've been panicky and generally on edge and overwhelmed and when they came in it just added, so much to it.

Feeling bad about what we talked about yesterday and just this week. Also, getting anxious with you being out of town. Also, feels like I need to cry. I just want to disappear and go away. Just die.

"Why," keeps running through my head. Why did my step-father and his father, Jon and the day program do what they did? I find it confusing. I also feel bad because I liked their attention and special treatment. I liked them and though that they liked me.

I keep hearing you saying that my step-father was sadistic. That seems really hard to accept. I don't want to see it like that. Yet, I know it fits. Even harder to see my mother in that light.

I've been in the car trying to get some quiet, bet now there is a jack hammer and gardeners going on all around me. I am feeling overwhelmed by all the noise. And, I don;t want to go back to the office.

So, I went for a walk. Came back and it was quiet until the two same coworkers returned from lunch. However, they did eventually quiet some. But, I've been feeling really overwhelmed, panicky and on edge. The thoughts have been getting louder. I found the utility knife at work, but didn't use it. Tempting. Feel like crying.

Sometimes, I feel like crying just because it feels good to have you listen to me. Your support and encouragement feels good. Really scares me too.

Also, thinking about what I said about when you went to San Jose about feeling like you were intentionally trying to hurt me. Makes more sense now, but only if I take into account that my step-father and my mother were sadistic. It is such a harsh word.

It has been bugging me trying to remember what you said over the weekend about why the teasing bothered me so much.

Flash of pictures, feelings and sensations about all the things we've been talking about. Feels so crazy, intrusive and stressing.

Observations: I am really emotionally wiped out, so I am not going to make any here. Maybe, later tomorrow or maybe not.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 27, 2005 ~ 6:20 pm ~ before session

Geoffrey,

I got through my afternoon meetings okay. Actually, I think, I did some good work with some difficult situations. But, it was like the moment the meeting ended the flashbacks, wanting to die, wanting to kill myself, make purchases and cut and bruise myself started even before I would leave the room.

Your call this afternoon was helpful, as well, as your recordings. [I was having a continually escalating difficult time with the thoughts and flashbacks. I was also calling him much more than before.] I went home in between meetings just to use the restroom and was tempted to bruise, but I remembered my promise to you this afternoon during our telephone call and did not do anything. Waiting for the Metrolink train to pass, I thought about that being a way to kill myself, but I wouldn't want to put anyone through that.

I've been thinking about what my step-father did is in a different category than his father, Jon and the day program. Then, I began to remember some of those incidents. After the time with my step-father, his father used to come into the room in the morning when I spent the night there or if his mother were with a client and I was taking a nap. I thought, I figured out a way to stop him in the morning as I remembered I started waking up first and then going into their room. He still bothered me sometimes during my nap or if we were alone in the garage he would put his hand in my underwear and put his fingers inside.

With Jon, I remember going to Magic Mountain with him on year and had a good time just the two of us. I even have some pictures of the park which had recently opened. He took me the following year and I had a good time. But, when we got to the parking lot, he had me lay down in the back seat, took my shorts and underwear off and forced himself on me. We never went anywhere together again. I remember thinking I made him mad, that I did something wrong because he didn't like me anymore.

At the day program, I remember one of the Mexican staff used to somehow get me away from the group to a fairly secluded areas at some of the parks. He would sort of playfully tackle me to the ground and put his fingers inside me. But, after one outing there wasn't many people left and I was playing billiards back at the center with the Kinks, "Lola" in the background.

He took me and his friend to one of the activity rooms furthest away from the everyone and locked the door and he forced himself on me. Then, his friend, who I thought was going to do the same, took some sort of wooden handled thing, like a broom handle or something...it was painted red and shoved it into me which really hurt. I remember the feel of the plastic mats under me sticking and just staring at the color blocks on the wall. He used to give me special treats like ice cream and let me sit in the front seat. I thought he liked me.

What my step-father's father, Jon and what happened at the day program was bad, but somehow I really put it in a different category and discount it as it wasn't as bad as what my step-father did...they seemed gentler. Seems confusing.

Observations: At the time that these memories began, I was in much denial. Also, I did not have all of the details of the extent of the sexual abuse from my step-father, his father or Jon. I also kept trying to really minimize what did occur. What I know now is that everyone except for the day program guys participated in sadistic ritualistic sexual abuse, but first gained my trust. As a result, my feeling betrayed and that I did something wrong was really heightened. In my journals, I can tell that I am slowly remembering details of the abuse. To this day, I still have a few new memories. I'm really tired of them and wish that it would stop.

PAST JOURNAL ENTRY: July 25/26, 2005

Geoffrey,

As we discussed, I told my husband tonight about my bruising, but not the extent of how. I told him that this is why I've been so secretive. I also told him that I've been having flashbacks. He asked if he could do anything to help and I told him that even though during these times that I want to push him away that I really need him to hug me. He told me he really liked me letting him in and trusting him more. However, I'm feeling badly and wanting to bruise [automatic reaction to talking]

The question "why" keeps running through my head. Sometimes, followed by "what did I do wrong?" It is really difficult to accept that I couldn't do anything. Also, difficult to comprehend how my mother could know and not do anything. [It wasn't why me, but why do people do these things.]

Actually, she just hurt me more. I keep remembering how physically painful everything was. Feels like a part of me is just screaming "why?" I even remember the feel of the carpet on my skin. I keep thinking that I just wanted my step-father to like me. I don't know why that was so important. Maybe, I thought he wouldn't hurt me anymore if I could just get him to like me. I thought he hated me and sometimes thought my mother hated me too.

Beginning with last week and especially last night, I keep having flashes of my step-father and his father being on top of me in his bedroom. I want to talk and I don't want to talk. But, the flashbacks are becoming progressively louder, more vivid and there are more sensations. I think, waking up in a panic last night had to do with remembering my step-father being on top of me.

I didn't sleep very well last night and woke up extremely tired. It was good that I didn't have anything until 10 am and 10 minutes from home, so I could just do documentation and not have to interact with anyone. I think, part of the difficulty in sleeping has to do with having told my husband. Still makes me feel anxious and bad.

I'm really wanting to bruise today and I am trying really hard not to do so. I've been having some of the same flashbacks and new ones of being at my step-father's parents. I really hated going there in the summer with just him.

If my mother came, it was sort of okay. But, the summers were bad even spent several nights at a time including a week stay at a time. I really didn't want to stay. I remember being scared of my step-father and his father. It was kind of confusing because his father paid attention to me and he played the game and stuff I wanted to play, so I sort of liked him, but he scared me.

I didn't hate him like my step-father. Kind of confusing to me. But, I remember his father touching me. The house was usually really loud and lots of people were in and out all the time. I remember the smell of the incesnse which was being burned most of the time. I remember that was the first time I burned myself with the incense when no one was looking.

I remember his father being relatively quiet and passive and that he didn't work...don't know why. However, his mother was really loud and bossy. She did psychic reading usually in their bedroom and she seemed to talk non-stop. She wasn't able to work due to some neurological disease. It was fairly easy for his father to come into my step-father's room when I was taking a nap or sleeping, as know one noticed he was gone and it was so loud I don't think anyone ever heard him with me.

He was gentler than my step-father, so sometimes, I think, it wasn't as bad. And, in someways, it wasn't. It didn't hurt as much and I wasn't scared that he would harm me. I kind of liked him and thought he liked me. [My journals are telling my story as I remembered things. It was only until much later that I remembered the real truth...I couldn't handle it then.]

Feels like I need to talk about this stuff. But, it makes me really anxious. And I start to question if I'm making things up or that you are not going to believe me or that it isn't okay to talk. I've already talked about some of this before. [Again, my own thoughts and feeling and what I was told projected onto my therapist. However, every bit of it felt real and was automatic thinking.]