Brain Drain

 ***WARNING***STRONG LANGUAGE and 
TRIGGERY STUFF*** Proceed with CAUTION


Last night session was different than I have ever done before.  In other sessions I have relived my past which put me back there as a terrified child struggling to survive.  I have also told events with no emotion or connection to anything I felt.  A soulless observer stating information that may or may not be real memories but I didn't give a shit which way that was, just saying what popped into my mind like reading from a script that you don't like the main character so if they live or die is a non-issue.  Last night I owned my story.  Before I started, Newcounselor and I hammered out some very specific rules.  I am telling my story in chronological ordered and I can feel the adult rage at how I was treated as a child.  Rage at seeing a child brutalized is an appropriate reaction.  I should feel angry because of how I was hurt and terrorized for their pleasure.  I should feel outraged that I was neglected and left vulnerable to a neighborhood sicko that enjoyed hurting children.  I should feel the intense feelings that I didn't have time to feel as a child scrambling to survive.  This is MY STORY and I own it.  Last night I told parts I had already discussed before practicing how to do this.  I ended up only talking about 15 minutes about my past.  Then decompressing and setting my story aside.  I walked out thinking that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Then I got in my car and screamed, "That lousy son of a bitch."  I was not referring to my counselor.  I was feeling the intense rage that anyone should feel towards a monster disguised as a person.  I realized, "Oh dear.  I so am not OK."  I carefully drove across the street to a fabric store and found a costume pattern for my daughter.  I then ate a calorie laden dinner with a soda.  I could hear my arteries hardening as I munched down on sour dough, bacon, and whopping slices of tomato.  I was very calm as I drove home.  Then stared blankly at my computer as I played solitaire.  This is just the beginning.  I am so glad that I am going to have a week off work.  I don't get to focus on my past so I am keeping myself busy, busy, busy with playing with grandkids and family at the top of my list.  By damn, over this next couple of months, I am going to own my story and be damned thankful the bastard is already dead.  Better to keep me out of jail.