Memories are just leaking out as barriers collapse.
I don’t like it. You know why I always feel alone? Because so few people know we exist.
Very few acknowledge us.. are interested in hearing from us. Just my T and a single friend. And the last time i was a Part and i talked to her from it .. i broke something between us so im afraid to really show parts to her. Im afraid to show any of them.
So just one person then. And it’s a struggle when it’s just one person. No one else has seen all these sides of me. I think R would be too weirded out. No, I know he would be. He gets weird if I say “we” or when my Little likes to tuck her stuffed animals into bed. You can see he gets visibly uncomfortable. I try to hide these parts of me for his behalf, less I really end up alone.
I um… just need to keep all of it locked up. This fantasy of ever really sharing my whole self with someone. I need to give it up. I’ve got me.. we’ve got each other at least.
Im so sad.
***
Something weird happened last night. I took a gummy before bed as my back was hurting quite a bit from a session of heavy deadlifts (probably need to work on my form). When I have weed in my system it lowers barriers, but it was the tradeoff for getting my brain to get sleepy and taking some pain away.
As I was falling asleep… I started to remember a memory from when I was a kid. I was in a grocery store. My dad would always buy these gallons of distilled water. Not really sure why, just liked the way it tasted I guess. I’m sure he didn’t have access to much clear water as a child so maybe that’s why, who knows. But I remembered going to this specific grocery store (it no longer exists) in the city I grew up in. It was such an innocuous memory, running down the grocery store isles with him and my mom. It reminded me of him. It wasn’t bad at first, almost a longing like I missed him…and then it got weird.
The visual stopped and I started to get just feelings. Body sensations. I started to feel unsettled.. like my skin was crawling. I suddenly could feel him reaching out for me… trying to embrace me or touch me.. and I started to feel scared…terrified.
When I was a really little girl he used to hug me or pick me up or sometimes I’d stand near him while he was talking to another adult and he’d play with my hair or ears as I was the right height. I actually liked it. I liked his touch then. Somewhere it changed. Somewhere – I started to feel scared and then creeped out. Maybe, when I understood more. I don’t really know.
But last night I felt it so powerfully. And then as the visuals and sensations faded, or perhaps I pushed them away, I stirred to flip the the light off and accidentally woke R who was asleep next to me. He rolled over gently still half asleep and reached out for me. I saw, but didn’t want that. He ran his arm across mine as he reached for me and I have never felt so repulsed in my life. It still gives me goosebumps right now to think about it. The skin on skin contact right after all these somatic sensations made me want to jump out of bed and run.. or just scream at him not to touch me. It took everything in my power not to rip my arm away and do just that. So I pulled it quickly from his reach and moved away from him trying not to be too obvious. It wasn’t his fault. But at that moment I didn’t want anyone to touch me… ever. I still feel that way this morning.
You know how this makes me feel? Confused, ashamed, guilty, sad…alone. No one can tell me why I’m like this. I want to say I was always like this…but I wasn’t. Not when I was really really little. I didn’t mind anyone’s touch. I don’t think? My mom’s touch was fine back then as well. As I got older, her’s became creepy as well. And now I can’t stand either of them touching me. And it’s just them.. I never minded if my brother’s hugged me.. in fact I would welcome it.. but they never did. I always had to initiate a hug with them, they never once did. I understood… they grew up in the same house I did.
And with my friends? I did have to learn to allow them to hug me when I was younger, but that feels just okay for the most part now.
I sit here and think what if it’s actually just a sensory processing issue? What if it’s related to abuse? What if it’s both? What if it’s neither and I’m just imagining all of this and should be ashamed to react this way? I can’t even give my husband the benefit of the doubt… how horrible is that? This all makes me feel like I’m the worst. And on top of that it makes me depressed that I just can’t be normal. For some reason I blame myself for this, I guess because I don’t know the reason behind it so I just assume it’s in my head. More things that are my fault. It wouldn’t be a problem if i could just get over my issues, pretend I don’t feel that way and be normal, everything would be better…
***
A few months ago I visited my parents. My dad went for a hug as I was coming down the stairs of his house. I was in a good mood so I gave him one. He held me so tightly and he pulled me off of the last step/landing and onto the floor. He’s still able to do that because I’m still that much smaller. Imagine if he wanted to hurt me?
And it would have been sweet except later I hated myself. My parts hated me for that. I feel repulsed by the memory now. My mom rubbing my back lovingly illicits the same response (don’t fucking touch me…). They get upset when I pull away. And since I’ve been standoffish? The last time they came over the twins were over too. They hugged the twins and my dad lingered in the foyer. He wanted a hug from me and he didn’t seem like he was going to leave until I gave him one. I held my breathe and finally gave him what he wanted… because he always gets what he wants in our family.
As he embraced me he whispered to me, “Don’t worry, I won’t squeeze you too hard…”
I hate everything. I hate myself for giving in. I hate myself for feeling that way. I hate myself for failing to just be a normal human being. I hate myself for missing him or my mom. I hate both of them for refusing to acknowledge any of the pain they caused us…ever. I know I’ll never get that… I don’t really expect it.. but part of me thinks there’s just no point. There’s no point in going to therapy week after week and freezing up or sitting there whining about things I cant change. Pretending and being so nice to my Parts because they never got it… that’s not really true is it? They did get some care.. they just also got a lot of pain and punishment and belittling and isn’t that just normal for everyone? Why am I so weak?
Sometimes I just want to go back to forgetting even if it means being suicidal or unhinged. If I would have let that story continue, maybe I’d be dead already and I wouldn’t have to be sitting here torn up inside trying to avoid all these feelings and dealing with my stupid fucking broken brain for the rest of my completely meaningless existence.
-You should have empathy for your parents. They have been through a lot in their lives… they miss Eddie as much as you do and they probably blame themselves. Are you really going to hurt them even more by ignoring them? Will punishing them really make you feel better?
–Fuck those people. More than just what they did to you, they destroyed Eddie’s self esteem so that he could never hold a job or keep a healthy relationship. Maybe if he could have, Casey would have been there with him.. someone would have been there for him and he wouldn’t have died alone. He could barely take care of himself – you saw his home! You cleaned up after him. You cleaned up the mess he left from his dead body leaking out all over the bed and the floor….you cleaned all of that up. Don’t you remember those deep brown and yellow stains? Don’t you remember? What the fuck is wrong with you?
-But still, don’t you miss them? They weren’t always bad were they? There are some good memories… they supported you at times! You don’t owe them anything, but isn’t it the right thing to do to show compassion? Isn’t that the kind of person you’d rather be? You’re not them… you’re you. And you is kind and compassionate and forgiving…and yes even loving even if you don’t see it…
–Whatever…do what you want but it’ll only bring you more pain. You know this. They’ll never apologize for how they treated you guys. They’ll just keep saying and doing things that trigger the fuck out of you. They’ll keep asking for your help and attention constantly as if you’re the fucking parent… You don’t need them! Why won’t you just leave?! Haven’t you had enough? Learned enough?
Since I can’t decide maybe i’ll just, keep my mouth shut and do what they want and hurt myself as punishment. Is that a good compromise? That seems to be the pattern the last year. At least they’ll be happy… because I’m going to be unhappy no matter what decision I make. I feel like trash, and trash doesn’t deserve anything but to be thrown away. I just want to be nothing. I don’t want to exist.
This is all stupid. Who cares. Fuck everyone. Fuck R for his willful ignorance. Fuck your T who does nothing. Fuck your stupid parents who really are just the worst. F your friends who don’t give a shit about any of this and just want to have fun. Just run away or kill yourself and get it over with already – you know it doesn’t mater either way right?