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Saturday, June 15, 2013

I was talking with Tolkien Boy yesterday about the phenomenon of wanting to be someone different from the person one is. He understands, a bit, what I'm speaking about. Probably most people do. But I'm not talking about accepting sexual orientation or accepting personal faults and weaknesses. I'm not speaking of learning to accept and love the person you are and whom you will become.

I realized not long ago that each morning when I wake I'm faced with resolving the nightmares that have come in my sleep, knowing that many of them are real, and telling myself that I AM that person. I'm the one who was abused and raped. I'm her. And this is important because if I don't go through this process, I tell myself it never happened and for one day I live in a delightful fantasy. According to Therapist, this is a coping device that is normal but not healthy, and I am ready to become the person I am. Most days I agree with him, but after several nights riddled with terrifying, sad, gut wrenching memory nightmares, it's difficult to feel happy about it.

As I continue forward, I constantly discover little things I've done subconsciously. They're not necessarily sabotage, although in the end, they serve to do that, but they seem to be one last effort of mine to cling to past coping devices. When I stopped self-harm, for instance, I found that I was burning or cutting myself more often while cooking, without realizing I was doing so. It was, Therapist told me, my body's way of maintaining the status quo and would, with time, decrease. And he was correct. While I still get burned occasionally, it seems to be more of what would be expected when one uses a hot oven and not a ritual that serves to relieve emotional pain.

Recently Therapist spoke with me about another problem I'll be correcting in the near future. It seems that while I was working on integration, I moved the impulse to fragment to one of the people closest to me, emotionally. Tolkien Boy has become two people in my mind. The person online is a different entity than the corporeal one. I feel differently about each of them and they represent different things to me. It's a rather difficult situation to explain, and one that makes me feel beyond crazy. I KNOW they're the same person, my brain comprehends that, but somehow, they're not. TB online looks different from TB in person. I feel separate feelings for each of them. They are two people to me.

Transference is a common thing, especially when one is under emotional stress. Part of me, however, feels enormous guilt for allowing this to happen. I understand it was beyond my control and I had no idea it was happening, but it still feels horribly shameful. It's caused a bit of stress for me this week as I've been spending real time with TB. Therapist had mentioned that the dissociation had happened, and while I knew he was correct, I didn't really believe it. Then, a couple of days ago, I sent a chat message to TB while he was sitting next to me and he replied, and I realized, in my mind, there was another person talking to me.

This sounds incredibly stupid and crazy so I'm going to stop trying to describe what's happening. I'm guessing no one who has not experienced it can comprehend what I'm saying anyway.

The bottom line is I'm feeling that no matter how hard I fight to overcome the crap in my past, it keeps reaching out and trying to destroy healthy, loving relationships in my life. And I'm tired. I don't want this to keep happening. Giving up/giving in sometimes feels like it would be a wonderful thing. I won't, but I want to.

Anyway, next job--integrating the Tolkien Boys. Wish me luck.

1 comment:

  1. I . . . I didn't realize this was considered a strange thing. I'll wish you luck anyway, though.

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