There are so many subjects. One thing I was realizing lately is the huge impact of denial.
I’m not against some denial. Denial makes ordinary life possible when it would be unbearable otherwise. Ordinary life is a good thing to keep on top of – meals need to be cooked, bathrooms cleaned, etc. Yeah.
For some years in therapy, I’ve been plunging into trauma and parts in therapy, then hoping very much for it all to go away again, so I could resume my life. I would finally box it all back up again, only to go back to therapy the following week, and have it happen all over again.
I did not want this to be true. I didn’t want to be a victim of trauma. I didn’t want to be in parts, really truly, aside from weird stuff happening in therapy. In my mind, therapy stuff was a blip, then real life kicked back in, where I was whole, and there were no parts. I’ve only just realized that I was doing that. The mind hides itself from itself so well.
I need to give up the hope that everything is OK, in the sense that none of the abuse happened, or if it did, it didn’t affect me. It is such a strong hope. All the years of my childhood, this was the view I was given. I want that to be true so very much.
I’ve started realizing that parts are impacting me on a daily basis, whether they’re out front or not. It’s not a disaster – it’s workable. But it is my situation. It’s not a blip that happens on strange occasions. It’s me. I’m like this. With parts that are there every single day.
This seems so obvious, yet it’s not. I have not wanted to believe it at all. It’s painful to state.