Today I am furiously angry. Makes a change from depression.
I called Ron last night, as pre-arranged. Stupid call. First I was sure he’d have forgotten, and I’d get his voice mail. Or he’d pick up and be surprised to hear from me. But no, he was there, and he was expecting me to call. I felt first of all really really scared to call him. Then I was basically too scared to talk to him much. We talked a tiny bit about why I might be scared – was I worried he would ‘turn on me’….I didn’t really know. He gives me a few minutes, with some silences, and then we say goodbye and hang up. I feel like an idiot. And also, I wasn’t in a crisis or anything, so felt stupid for calling a therapist for nothing it seemed.
Then, I had severe anxiety. I took half a xanax to cope. Then slept for two hours, then up again. Then I wrote Ron an email, as per usual. I can express myself better in writing. Different parts don’t get in the way and strangle my voice. I wrote about the part of me that always wants to cope, to look at the bright side, and that tries to stifle the other part of me that kind of wants to tell the truth of things. I think that’s why I get so scared – it’s these two sides at war, with the part that is trying to make the best of it all under attack by this other more warlike part that wants to tell her side of the story. It’s a scary situation for me.
Because the truth of it is, Christmas for me is always bad. The kid part likes the candy, the decorations, the possibility of presents. But the other parts just feel all this pain and hopelessness.
Going to my family’s for Christmas is very very confusing for me. They present this facade of perfection and reasonableness, and at the same time, I am remembering things that happened that were basically criminal IMO. But I lose my own sense of what is real, and start believing their sense of it. For a few hours anyway. The cost afterwards is high – depression, confusion, and now fury.
Also the years and years of them acting as if I am worth less than everyone else. Not as smart, not as accomplished, lazy, just no good. Why? Why am I so bad?
How could they have done the stuff they did? Or stood by and let it happen? So now I get to struggle for the rest of my life to cope with it.
I’m furious with the lies, the pretending, the crap. All for what purpose?
Odd that this was all triggered off by a non conversation with my therapist.
Oh, and the other part that makes me so mad? I’m not allowed to have had a bad Christmas. When I even mildly say, well, Christmas wasn’t that great….my friends immediately change the subject. I have no concrete thing to say – no one got drunk or beat anyone up. Why can’t I have had a bad Christmas? It’s my actual experience, damn it. At least give me that.