***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.