I recently had an appointment with one of the list of healthcare professionals that I see on a regular basis. I particularly dislike and feeo great apprehension about my visits with this person. It's not because I don't like her, or because I don't respect her credentials. She is more then qualified, and wants to sincerely help me. However, seeing her and working with her means letting myself be vulnerable, trusting, opening up, accepting help. I recoil at all of these , especially the being vulnerable aspect. So on this particular visit she was asking me questions and really wanting to hone in on the abuse I suffered as a child. Although this was unpleasant to say the least I know her well enough that she has her reasons for doing what she does. So I did answer her questions and went through her process. As I was answering her questions images and emotions associated with the punches, the slaps, strangling, hard kicks to the stomach, watching him to do the same to my mom and some of the times it was because of me, something I had said, or done, or not said or not done, it didn't really matter, we all walked on eggshells because there was always some reason for why we deserved to get beat. These images surged through my mind, the feelings of fear , powerlessness, humiliation permeated through me as if it all happened moments ago. Then we got to the questions about when I started cutting myself, I told her the truth that I was 13 and I wanted to die so I took the only thing I had in my room readily available a dull pair of scissors and with these I attempted to cut my veins. I dug into my wrists with the scissors trying to get deep enough to snip one of my veins. Like has happened to me other suicide attempts later by coincidence someone came to my room for me and found me with blood all over and in crisis. I obviously didnt die that time but I did learn the release I got from cutting myself and hurting myself, emotional pain turned to physical pain a pain I'm used to since a young child, a pain I feel I deserve. We then got to questions about when I was 14 and started to do heroin and crack cocaine and eventually about my first time on the streets at 17. Wondering the streets aimlessly in a drug induced stupor, my cocktail of heroin and crack cocine kept me walking while the rest of the city slept warm and safe in their beds. Eventually I had to sleep though so I grabbed a piece of cardboard and la
yer it on the pavement and lay my head to sleep. Woke the next morning cold and watched as the city came alive, people stepping over me or around me on their way to work, Starbucks drink in hand, headphones in ears in there own little worlds. I just lay there wishing I had never woken up. Why couldn't I have had eternal slumber. She then asked me what I wish. I had trouble with this question , I thought about it and told her. I wonder what it would be like to be happy that your dad is coming home?? I wonder what it would be like to be able to accept somebody wanting me or needing me?? I can't stand this, I don't want anybody to want or need me, I sense this I run, the walls go up. I wish that I could wake up in the morning and be glad to be alive, look forward to getting up and out. Instead I want to hide, escape, disappear forever, I just want to lay in the dark alone. I wish that one day I can work helping other people go through there tough times or even avoid certain pitfalls, I might as well use the misery I've experienced to help others. I wish that I wasn't an addict with mental health issues, that I stay clean and find freedom from the obsession of instant gratification that drugs give me, that the physical craving and allergy of the body that when I use drugs one is to much a thousand never enough. Thats what I wish for. Pretty much a new life, a totally different life from the one ive had. She then closed our session by pointing out and explaining to me that she noticed that in my wishes I never mentioned a relationship with anybody. This wasn't even on my radar screen. She pointed out this was because I have been abandoned numerous times in various ways by the people who most look to for safety, security, advice and unconditional love. It was as if my mind couldn't even fathom me having a meaningful, loving relationship with any staying power. My mind couldn't grasp me not being hurt and abandoned. So I don't even let myself go to that place, I have no expectations around this. Of course none of this is conscious , I just operate when it comes to this on auto pilot, not allowing myself to be vulnerable, not allowing people deep in. My walls are thick and its like this because this keeps me safe. Safe from harm. Safe from abandonment. I just keep all at arms length, this is my comfort zone. Alone, but safe, suffering in silence, nobody to want me nobody to need me.