Over the last few months, I have been really struggling, as I processed through the issues in my marriage and the reality of who I married and all I have endured. It has been incredibly painful. I feel my emotions and grieving – deeply. Processing this (hopefully) last piece of the lifetime of trauma I have endured – has taken me beyond my capacity to cope and close to suicide.
Over the last week, I did what I always do – and pulled myself back out of that pit of hopeless depression and pain, and started to make efforts to deal with it all and start to focus on healthy things that will move me back towards hope and the light at the end of the tunnel.
My counsellor has been pretty good at accepting the level of pain I have felt at processing the trauma I have endured for the last 16 years. For as much as she is able, she has validated the abuse, the trauma, the suffering it has caused. And – unlike in the past – she has not challenged me for using terms like ‘narcissist’ – because basically I told her not to. I get that she (as a therapist/doctor) cannot call someone a narcissist – but I can – and I will not be told this is wrong, or shamed for it. As long as I don’t do anything harmful to abusers (which I don’t), or wish them anything bad (which I don’t) – then my counsellor or anyone else, does not get to tell me what I call abusers. And I think she finally gets that now.
My last appointment went better than the one prior to that. Two weeks ago, I left in tears, because I was in a really bad way. I was past my capacity to talk. I just needed to feel the pain, feel the emotions, and just lie down, watch TV, and just get through each day.
But, this week, the appointment went far better. By then, I had pulled myself out of the dark, hopeless pit and decided what I needed to start doing, to improve my physical and mental health. And move towards the life I want – of being strong enough to heal some more, feel healthy, train for a job, find a job, and gain back my independence.
I told my counsellor what I was doing. I had offered to volunteer at a police run organisation, where youth programs are offered. And as a result of offering to volunteer – I get free use of the gym and all exercise classes. Which is truly amazing – as I was concerned as to how much it would cost. It is such a blessing to get it all free.
During this conversation, my counsellor said ‘I am proud of you’. And said something about my strength to pull myself out of the dark pit, and start focussing on improving my life.
When she said ‘I am proud of you’ – I felt immediately confused and I know I looked down at my hands. It still feels really weird for anyone to say that to me. I didn’t really know how to react. And I’m not sure how I did react. I don’t know if I said ‘thank you’ or if I verbally responded at all.
No-one during my childhood or adulthood, ever told me they were proud of me. I’ve never been around decent or healthy people. All the significant relationships I have had, have been with toxic, personality disordered, and/or abusive people. And yet despite this, I tell my sons I am proud of them all the time. I know the importance of hearing it, even though I didn’t have anyone say it to me.
The confusion I felt when my counsellor said it, shows how weird it is for me to hear it. And I know it has flagged as something weird to me, because I keep thinking about it. I think people saying anything nice to me, that isn’t to get something from me, is weird for me. Still. Continue reading