I worked hard all day to keep my anxiety under control. It’s the first time in a long time I have been that anxious about a therapy session. When I arrived at my session, I was a few minutes early so I went into the yoga room that we use and put myself in a restorative supta baddha konasana: reclined bound angle. I typically do not enjoy this pose because I associate laying like that with some of my sexual abuse memories. However, I’m working on leveling out my left and right knee and hip, so I’ve actually been doing bound angle for several minutes a day to work on that. I added the reclined part because I was craving a heart opener. This was a helpful way to start my session because I could get my breathing under control and put space between the stress I was carrying from work, and the stress I was going into in therapy.
Now that the session is over, I can’t really tell you if it went better or worse than I expected…honestly, maybe it went worse. I didn’t really dissociate or get caught up in flashbacks, but I did shut down a few times. I did get caught up in the chaos in my head: the negative self-talk that was screaming at me while my shrink was talking. However, I didn’t claw my wrist to pieces, and I got through the things that I didn’t really want to talk about.
One of the things I am still really having a hard time with is guilt and blame. This afternoon, we talked about the information that my parents had and the information that they didn’t have. I still feel at fault for the information that they didn’t have. I still carry that guilt of not telling. But when I look at the information that they did have; when I look at the lack of supervision and the choices that they made as parents, I can’t understand how they couldn’t have known that something was going on. I can’t understand how they let this happen for so many years. In my head right now, I’m wondering why was I not important enough to protect? Why was I not worthy enough of being safe? Because even if they were totally clueless of the abuse, they should have known not to let a 10 year old girl and a 12 year old boy share a room together. They should have known not to leave a boy and a girl unsupervised for hours at a time.
And now the tears that I fought so hard against at the end of my session this afternoon are stinging my eyes. I have spent so much of my life feeling like I don’t matter. I have spent so many years hurting myself. I can’t help but wonder if that part of me would have been different had someone taken care of me when I was little; had someone kept me safe when I was too young to protect myself. Tonight, I am filled with feelings of grief and betrayal.