Post therapy

Well, it’s been a couple of weeks now since my last therapy session I think. I’m choosing to spend time on the present day goals I have, improving my singing, finishing the book I’m writing, getting my physical health in better order, having fun.

I’m feeling a bit isolated. Father’s day was hard this year, which it isn’t usually. Normally it’s this irrelevant thing that passes by without my notice. This year I really wanted him to die, was really hoping and expecting him to die on Father’s day, like it would be fitting somehow. He could of course be dead right now, given I’m out of touch with anyone who’d tell me in a hurry, but somehow I doubt it.

My wife asks what does it matter if he dies? To me it’s a product of my anger. I’m angry that I was wounded so bad on my vulva and remember very little of the situation surrounding it. I remember it happening, but not what happened before or after or even the place where it happened very well.

Has anyone tried hypnosis to fill in the details in their memories? I’d be interested in finding out how that worked out for you.

I’m angry and he should have some consequences for something as horrific as that. My friend the lawyer says it’s not to late to pursue criminal charges, but I’m not sure I want to do that. I don’t think much of it would be within my control. I mean, I have these big scars on my body that prove I was injured. Does that mean they’ll have a big picture of my vulva in the courtroom, or read out my medical report, or have me examined by a forensic gynaecologist or something? That’s actually not the part that bugs me, it’s just that they won’t be representing me, I’ll just be a witness and they’ll be making decisions out of my control on a situation that should be completely within my control.

What I really want is to rub my mother’s nose in it, make her explain exactly how she managed to overlook such a serious injury, force her to take back her lie that she didn’t know I was being abused. I want to scream and yell and force her to tell me the truth finally.

What I really want to do is sing and dance and be happy and not worry about shithead.

I read something recently that a therapist wrote about survivors. That we’re not willing to live an ordinary life. That our winning back of our souls and hearts and memories had better bloody well mean something. I’m paraphrasing here, but I agree. I’m not content to have a job and a marriage and a home and routine activities. My life has to count for something or it wouldn’t be worth the first 15 years, and the ten after that recovering myself.

I told my therapist in my last session that what I wanted was to do earth work, get my regular life sorted out, and balance out all the water work of healing. Now I actually have to do it.

I have had two singing lessons now and I rehearsed tonight. My first lesson went amazingly well and I sang like a rock star. Predictably, by the second lesson I had a sore throat and a head cold. I’m now over the cold and practising for my third lesson next week. I was in the park today on my dinner break and was thinking about how my eyesight has taken an abrupt turn for the worse these last two years. I paid attention to what that meant, looking out with my eyes at the beautiful trees around me that I could no longer see crisply without glasses. I realized suddenly, suddenly knew that my eyes were trying to protect me by shutting out seeing things, the way they had as a child. That I needed to give them permission to see. It felt like I had been cutting off the blood flow to my eyes. I told myself, my eyes that it was now safe to see everything. It is now safe to see.

With my father in my face all the time, the only way to lesson the visual impact of what he was doing was to blur my vision. Perhaps that’s the gift my body gave me. I had eye surgery about 10 years now, but just recently my vision has reverted, making eye glasses necessary again. Maybe being in therapy these last almost two years has made my body react in the same way again. I’m going to experiment with that idea.

0 thoughts on “Post therapy”

  1. Hi, SDW –

    I totally hear you about not wanting to live an ordinary life after having to live through hell then having to fight to come back to life . . . if I can’t have an extraordinary impact on the world in this life time, I sure as hell better have an extraordinary impact in the next lifetime . . . or at least be a ghost that goes around and slaps abusers about the head whenever they think about doing harmful stuff.

    – Marie (Coming Out of the Trees)

    1. I like your ghost idea, Marie. It’s a bit comforting to think that there will be a next lifetime that the lessons learned in this lifetime will benefit. I’m not sure if that’s how it works, though so I’d like to make a difference while I’m here in this body. Since I’m not going to have kids, I’ll have to write books or something to leave a legacy.

  2. Yeah, I hear you and I agree.

    The thing is, if I spend my whole life hunting him and my mother down, when do I get to sing and write and make art and love my wife and garden and do fun stuff and live big and loud and proud? I don’t know that I want to sacrifice any more of my life to ‘cleaning up after dad’ without a clear and sure reward.

    Sorting out the pain in my vulva has immediate benefit to me in the present day, but taking him to court when he’s going to die anyways seems like a bit of a waste of effort. It takes years to go through the criminal process, and I’d have to go to my home town intermittently during that time to do it.

    Putting more energy into my mom isn’t appealing either, except as anger venting. Part of me fantasizes that if I could just force her to admit she knew, a whole lot of truth might come out. But is that more wasting time on her, or does it have a benefit to me to do? I mean really, I need to have a life.

    I’m sorry you couldn’t take him to court criminally. Have you looked into a civil suit ie: suing him for damages? The standard of proof is much lower and I think the statute of limitations is different too. At least you could get your therapy money back, and maybe some pain and suffering money, which would be some consequences for him.


    1. Well, the thing is, I’d feel dirty getting his money… when I was a child, he had a strange way of saying that children are always after their parents’ money, and only care for them because one day or other they’ll inherit – as if money was some vital fluid that could be extorted from him.
      Everything about him is vomit-inducing, including his money, and I don’t want to have to deal with things that have anything to do with him.

      1. I get that dirty money thing. My parents were always giving me silence gifts when I was a kid. The thing is, taking all my dad’s money would really upset him, it’d be something that would have an impact. If it was enough money, it would probably impact your abuser too, especially since he seems to be concerned about it. I was just thinking of it in terms of justice, exposure and punishment. Winning a lawsuit isn’t as good as criminally convicting him, but it’s easier to do, and still exposes him as an abuser. But I totally get and respect not wanting anything with his energy, even if you donated the money to a suitable charity.

      2. I don’t know… I might, maybe, when I’m done with divorcing my children’s father. He’s the main jerk in my life right now – and it requires all my energy. Then, maybe.

  3. I’d say go for it. Pursue criminal charges. Rub your mother’s nose in it. So what if they have to examine you ? You have the scars to prove what you’ve gone through. Shout the truth ! You’re one of the few ones among us who can. Don’t let society pressure you into remaining silent.

    I can’t pursue criminal charges. In my country, whatever he’s ever done to me had, back then, a statute of limitations of 2 years after coming of age, so that’s 20-years-old. The law has been changed and the statute of limitation widely extended, but only for prospective cases. And I learned of this when I was 34, when I finally felt strong enough to go to court…

    It feels like he’s got away with it. Which he has.

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