Well, I did not see Karen today. Holiday weekend and all. I was in group on Tuesday. I was pretty weirded out about Thankgiving as I know my brother would be there, and that would be the first time I would see him since my birthday and our discussion. I wasn’t sure what would happen or what I wanted to happen now that he had time to think about it, and I had time to process his response. But it was a non-issue. It was like nothing happened at all. I suppose that is what I expected, really. Twice before anyone came, my mom and dad said something to the effect that everyone gets along or something. Can’t remember now. Not sure if they have talked to Brian or Lisa. But then, we never talk directly about anything.
I can’t really blame my folks. They began being two victims who did not have access to anything in the way of healing from their experience. They tried and succeeded in making our experience better than theirs was. Or Mom’s at least. I don’t know much about Dad’s life. He doesn’t talk much about anything. So if they set up an atmosphere where the same things happened, well. I understand it.
I understand that as a victim, we walk around the word both thinking we have a giant I on the back of our back and everyone knows we are different, we are gross, we are bad, and thinking if anyone ever finds out than our lives will be over it will be awful. We walk around like impostors, thinking if anyone knew the truth about us we will be shunned and despised. It is so bad that when there is a conversation or article or news story or anything that contains these elements, we quickly turn away in case anyone adds two an two when they see us looking at it. A week ago, I was in Half-Priced Books, and looking at the books about this, and someone came down the aisle and I rushed away. I am sure that my folks’ had less opportunity than I do to work on, learn about this stuff. And it isn’t just natural. When we are attacked as children, there is stuff we learn and don’t learn that we have no idea is wrong or right or normal or abnormal.
Which comes down to today. I blamed myself all my life for the crap that happened to me, but I also did not think it was my fault. I blame my brothers for everything, EVERYTHING wrong in in my life. Oh, I can connect the dots on everything:
My lack of success in my career — I have chosen jobs to interview for that were below my skill set, because I have very low confidence, stemming from low self-worth, not low intelligence. I do not stick up for myself ever. I take the blame for things that are not my responsibility, and I do not press for promotions or for raises.
Money problems — I have always made less money than I am worth because I feel worthless. I go for jobs I think I can get because they pay low wages. Now I think I don’t want the added stress because I am going through too much. That, and paying out of pocket for therapy. I work a ton, have my own business, which doesn’t meet the expenditures each year but serves a purpose. Many purposes.
Sexual/Intimate relationships — that is a no-brainer really. I am curious about sex. I have desire, sure, but it is immediately swamped with shame and fear. And, I am so behind, I haven’t the first idea how to get to first base with a guy.
Social Issues — yeah, when you walk around with an I on your back, scared that anyone might find out, you tend to not get close to folks, for fear of their response.
Health/weight issues — my oldest brother can’t stand fat people. He thinks they are lazy and stupid. I wonder why I am fat. I use my weight to protect myself from sex. It’s stupid, I know, and now it has a life of its own, but between that, and not caring about myself, my health, well I have a problem there.
Depression/Anxiety/Isolation — yep all symptoms of sexual abuse, unresolved anger, shame, and the whole nine yards.
My filthy house — yeah, somewhere somehow someone has to have blamed that on unresolved childhood abuse, why not me? But really, I am tired and working full time, and running a business, and single and going through so much therapy that all I want to do when I get home is collapse. One could make the case…
At the end of the day, all this crap CAN be connected to what happened so long ago, but the victim (me) will blame herself for what wasn’t my fault (the abuse) and fail to take responsibility for the stuff I own. Maybe this has origins in the abuse, but nothing related to the abuse is going to solve any of it. And as long as I continue to play the victim, none of it improves. It is only in taking responsibility for my own life, that I can thumb my nose at my brothers and make things better for me.
But it is so overwhelming, everything is so steeped in the abuse. I chose my career because I am afraid of people and don’t want to deal with people. So from the beginning, I picked a field where I would have to work primarily with men, but wouldn’t have to deal with people for the most part. Now I have to live with that career or start something else. I have absolutely no idea how to begin with looking for a guy who might be marriageable. And I know that I will have to work hard to get over the phobias related to sex and intimacy/trust. I can clean my house if I can find the time. I had a four day weekend this week and did nothing. Ok, Thanksgiving was out, I did a lot here at Mom’s, but I did nothing but sleep yesterday and today, and tomorrow, I will be getting back into the work week. I am trying to pay attention to my health and weight. But it is slow, slow going. Everything.
I feel a lot of despair right now.
I don’t want to leave the group. I think I have made good progress and my only hope is to work with Cathy, to work in the group. I like Karen, and I have been able to work with her some, but 1-2 weeks between a 1-hour session is simply not enough. The only reason I want to give up on the group is the bill, which my insurance company won’t touch. I made my deductible in half a year, but I won’t make my max-out-of pocket because they just refused to cover any more sessions of the IOP. So they do not apply that to max out of pocket. It is like, it doesn’t count, at all. Done. We don’t want to pay for that. Done. They are paying for the cardiologist and the colonoscopy, but what is affecting my health more than colon polyps and high blood pressure they won’t touch at all. So I am still paying out of pocket for my maintenance drugs too.
Ok, so I am being really whiny today. I’m a survivor, but a survivor doesn’t wait around for a good fairy Godmother to come and change all the crappy parts of her life into something wonderful, for Prince Charming to arrive on his white charger, and take her off to the palace. There is a stupid part of me that wants for my brothers to wake up and come to me and offer me financial support to get my life back on track. The sooner I decide to radically accept that that will NEVER happen, the quicker I can start taking responsibility for my health, my finances, my career, my relationships, and be a true survivor with the strength and bravery that people tell me I have. It’s over-whelming.