It started with talking about how shitty I felt this weekend. I know why this weekend was so hard. I feel like I ruined my relationship with S because I sent him that email on the 14th. I really feel like I ruined everything. I don’t know if it’s just me or are things seeming more forced. Then he didn’t talk to me at all since last Monday. I thought for sure he hated me and was never going to talk to me again. It’s my overwhelming fear of abandonment. He never gave me any inclination to suggest that, but me and my fucking issues immediately jump to that conclusion.  S started talking to me again on Sunday…and we talked again on Monday.  I need to realize that people have shit going on in their life that prevents them from talking, every lack of contact isn’t because they hate you.  It was just confusing because before he would always tell me hey I’m going to be out of contact, but I also know that he likes to be alone when he’s upset.  He’s dealing with a lot and I know he internalizes the issues that are going on in his life.

Then there was my fear of having to find a place to move and not having the money and I wrote down my memory. I think that had a lot to do with it.

Then we started talking about how my dad always ignored me and never made me feel accepted. I told him about the wolves story and how he was always telling me and my sister about how everything is getting worse and we will never be able to do the things we wanted when we get older. That sticks with me every day of my life. I expect the worst to happen all the time, and it does because what you expect to happen always happens.

I told him about how my dad let us eat pink wafer cookies and then forced us to drink cod liver oil and how I threw up for hours afterwards. It was the worst feeling. I felt so gross.

I told him how I was made fun of my entire life. Or my family would always tell me if I would just do such and such all the boys would like me. I had no friends and I had no one to give me emotional support. I couldn’t tell any one how I really felt. I had to keep everything inside. How one day my dad was ok and then the next day he would ignore you because he was mad at you. There was no stability in my life.

I finally told him about me cutting myself this weekend. And how I have a history of self harm. I showed him my cuts and told him how I used to punch my self leaving bruises. I would bit myself or pull my hair. He asked me how cutting made me feel and what I was thinking before and after doing it. The pain makes me think of something other than the emotional pain and once I feel the pain, there is a huge sense of relief, like a 1000 pound weight has been lifted off my chest. I felt relaxed when I went to sleep. All I had to focus on was the pain of my cuts…I noticed the entire time I was talking to him about this I was digging my nails into my legs and squeezing them so hard. Focusing on that made it easier to talk.

He suggested I read this book series which one of the books is called A Boy Called It. He said I could probably relate to the book because the guy suffered a lot of emotional abuse. I told him I can not read anything that has abused children. I cant take hearing or reading about abuse of children. Tears welled up in my eyes and I told him how when Susan Smith drowned her children in the 90’s, I was a wreck for days afterwards. All I could think of was those poor little boys wondering why their mom wasn’t helping them. He said, well child abuse hits too close to home for you because of your past. That really upset me, because I never really thought of myself as abused, but he apparently does.

We wrapped up the session and I walked to my car and it took everything I had to not break down in tears and just let go of everything. I started shaking and had a hard time driving home. I figured writing all this down would help get it all out.