two blogs in one day--what am I coming to?
that's really the question. I've been sitting around a lot today just thinking about how I feel and all that. And the answer is, I don;t really know. I have a pain in my heart that won;t quit and another in my stomach that is not the result of the huge burrito I ate for dinner...
another friend of mine is keeping a blog on her family experience and I feel so lost when I look at what she's written. Like, I don't have any right to be as fucked as I am. No One physically or sexually abused me in my family. Mainly they ignored me. I mean, telling me I was a bad person and bound to disappoint was a burden, yeah. But It just doesn't compare in my eyes. Yet here I am with PTSD and Stockholm syndrome and Bipolar Disorder (okay, the last is chemical, I get that and nothing my family did or didn;t do could have affected it). And my therapist telling me my family tortured me.
Why can't I feel mad about these things? Why do I just feel sick at heart? Is it that I don't reallly believe them myself? Or that the memory has just faded into the mists of time and...I can;t get a grasp on it. Some of the incidents my therapist harps on don;t seem so bad, just normal. And some I can barely remember.
I think this is why writing Locked has stalled. I just can't get upset enough--not like I was when I started writing it. And all those times in the hospital just kind of blend into one another. Only a few stand out, at the beginning. And a few in the middle and towards the end. But the most part I can;t hardly even remember. It's like I wasn;t there for it. I went away.
When I was anorexic I went away a lot. Life was being obsessed with food and exercise and doing my homework: that's all there was. How do you write about that?
I donl;t hate my family. They disappoint me. When I write my mom and she never even responds it hurts me deep inside, but it's not unusual. why am I even hurt and disappointed? Probably she'd say it was my own doing anyway and she thought that distant was the way I wanted our relationship to be--which I can't deny. So who;s at fault? Her or me?
That's the question that confuses me a lot. Is it just me? Or was I really treated badly? I think I was treated badly but I can never know for sure. So this pain in my heart that is never resolved.
My shoulder hurts really badly now because I tend to hunch whenever I write here. That's a sign of something. I don't know what.