There is not much to update. We did EMDR again this week, but the first time in months. I was a little angry because I came up with something, and started to talk about it, and Angela had me consider. I know that she told me once that you don’t try to talk too much during EMDR because it isn’t productive.
We are working on that feeling of being repulsive. And I got into the buzzers, and letting my brain go where it wants, it went to Bob, who’s birthday is today, now that it is after midnight. We went to my allowing him to do stuff to me, because I wanted the attention that he gave me. I let him do everything to me because he made me feel included. He never paid any attention to me for anything but what he wanted, for IT. How pathetic is it to be so deprived of attention or so in need of attention that you will take even that?
I have thought a lot about that little Amish girl, whose brothers attacked her. What is sad is that if the prosecutor asked the victim and her family what she wanted for them to do to the perpetrators, I already know her answer. I have thought about it now and again, and I do not want my brothers imprisoned for what they did. Sometimes I fantasize that one would win the lotto and tell me that he knows how I have struggled and wants to make it easier for me, so he is going to give me a few hundred thousand so I could make some changes and not be so dependent on working/surviving. That is the victim in me, waiting for someone outside of myself to come and solve all my problems. It keeps me stuck. It’s not so much the money, though that would make a huge difference. But it seems like I have put my life on hold until I can hear those words that they know how what they did has impacted my life. I know it will never happen, and if I want change to happen, I have to make the changes. And it fills me with despair.
I don’t want my brothers to go to prison. I don’t want their wives to leave them and their children to know what happened. I don’t want my parents to disown them or to make them come and visit when I am not there. I certainly do not want for them to go to Hell for what they did, though Angela did point out that that isn’t up to me. At the end of the day, all I really want is words, is for someone to accept responsibility for what happened, and to acknowledge that it had an impact on my life.
The rest of my life isn’t so bad. I wish I didn’t have to ask my sister for help all the time, but my house will be paid off in three years, and without the house payment, I can afford to heat my house and buy insurance and pay what bills I have. When I try to think of what my life would look like if it is how I want it to be, what I see is having more time to work with my dogs, less dependency on my sister and my job, and taking better care of my health. More structure. More order in my house, time to clean and care for my property, and maybe put in a garden.
There is a tiny voice in me that says I would not be satisfied with my life if my brothers made it easy for me. There is another part of me that feels that any success I have will make them feel less responsibility for what happened because I am not so f-d up after all. Maybe I am sabotaging my life in order not to let them off the hook. It’s pretty stupid. What I am least satisfied with my life, the lack of an intimate relationship, marriage, children, is gone, and it is pathetic for me to blame them, to blame what happened.
So that is where I am right now, what I am trying to figure out. The taking responsibility for my own success and failures rather than waiting for them to fix it, or stewing about how they caused it. And weighing what I want with what I am willing to do to get what I want, to somehow build my life so that I am content with how it is. Frankly, it is overwhelming. Some of the ways I have coped with everything has a life of its own now and has to be dealt with by me to get it all ok.