When you can’t even trust your therapist?

You cuss, yell, scream, pitch a damn fit… then I guess you start all over.  What the hell kind of therapist lies to a patient?  Seems my therapist has been practicing out of her zone of expertise.

I have spent the day twisted in knots trying to process this.  I have used information she gave in situations where it just can’t be taken back.  Information that makes some ill-informed people act like you are dangerous.  It could effect other people, my career.

Took me years to decide to deal with this mess and now I have to start all over.  Can the kind of trust necessary be rebuilt?  I don’t see how.

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Additional diagnosis

Aspergers.  A great deal of my life makes a whole lot more sense now, that’s for certain.  My therapist asked the queen question, “how does that make you feel.”  Relief actually.  I’m not just an asshole!

I’m so old they didn’t Autism when I was growing up, but it sure would be nice to have had a diagnosis way back when.  I wonder if the severity of the effects of the childhood abuse and trauma would be the same if not for the effects of Aspergers.  I wonder if my memory would be able to better recall details and aid me in discovering my past… and then getting over it!

Strangely though, I feel as though I belong now.  I have an identity and a group of people who accept me, with my quirks.

And just like that the though stream is gone and I have no clue where I was going.

Read My Lips…

…it’s not about you.  WTF?  A mouse farts in the woods and you break down and are immediately convinced you have done something and must whine and complain and boohoo and make it all about you.  It has nothing to do with you… and I don’t owe an explanation.  Stay out of my shit.  If I wanted you to know I would have told you.

Therapy… try it yourself!

They ruin everything!

Midas had the golden tough… these people have the shit touch, the MyAss Touch!

They ruin every damn thing. I, not them, ME!, puts in the work and loses 135 pounds in 10 months.  I feel freakin’ fabulous. I look good for an old fart. Start hiking again. Getting outside in general again. Going places, doing things, things I was, for over 20 years, horribly embarrassed to attempt. Then… they show up!

They start bragging like they did something.  They start handing out weight loss advice like they aren’t morbidly obese.  Then… “so and so wants to see you and all the work we’ve done…”  We?  Bitch is there a mouse in your pocket?  You didn’t do shit.  And your friend wants to see me?  She is fuckin’ blind… over 90%.  She can see only on the fringes and mostly just light.  You people have hated on me for 49 years and now when something might make you look good you are all in?  GO! TO! HELL!

Now, gained 5 pounds and having a hell of time getting the eating under control.  Feel like shit, feel like a failure, feel like I let everyone down.  5 pounds.  I still hit the gym, still walk the dog, still hike, still do all the new/renewed things I have been doing, and only gained 5 pounds  when it should have been more.  Part of it is water because, after a year, I started trying Coke Zero’s so there is bloat from the carbonation.  Between bloat and water fluctuations I might have gained 2 pounds, but I feel like the biggest loser on the planet.

The hard part to accept is, it is all mine.  No one else.  I lose, I gain, I hike, I sit my fat ass on the couch; it is all mine.  It is all for me to control, or it is me deciding I want to have one thing left in my life that is completely out of control, even out of their control.  IT IS MINE!!!!  I gotta get that through my head.

Just because..

Absolutely!

—————————-

Just because I’m smiling doesn’t mean I am not hurting inside

Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I have nothing to say

Just because I’m soft spoken doesn’t mean I can’t roar with the fierceness of lions

Just because I’m coping doesn’t mean I don’t need help sometimes

Just because I’ve done brave things doesn’t mean that I don’t feel weak

Just because I’m healing doesn’t mean I don’t get triggered

Just because you are family doesn’t mean you deserve my love

Just because

Source: Just because..

Dipping your toes in the toilets of life!

Is it the trauma and therapy that makes me hyper aware of things to worry about?  Concern about my ability to make sound judgement calls from years of being told I am an idiot?  Am I the normal from one having my eyes opened to the horrors of the world that most people pretend don’t exist?

So close to being in the broke house now and I am supposed to take vacations, buy things, replace cars, act like I am rich, and people act like I am the weird one needlessly worrying over stuff.  Maybe if my career wasn’t in serious jeopardy?  Maybe if I didn’t know the world doesn’t give two shits about us.

I keep screaming out we have to stop and take stock and plan and budget and people act like I just need to call my therapist.  Or like I am messing up their fun as if I owe them something.  The crazy people are the ones who are fucked up and pretend they aren’t.  Those of us who have embraced our problems and are seeking to fix them are the sane ones!  We are the lone voices in our individual wildernesses crying out with no one listening.

We aren’t the problem damn’t!

WTF?

Revelations… not the Biblical kind, but the personal, WTF was I thinking kind?  Seriously?  You selfish, uncaring, pig headed wompsnitcher.  You almost had be convinced of your victim hood you manipulating jackwagon!

It is stunning, and sadly shaming, to me how trauma in your past can twist you up to the point that you will take the blame for about anything.  Wow.  I am not the asshole here.  It is you.  The lies came from you.  The intentional deception was you.  The manipulation of the event was you.  It is not, and never war, me.

I am done being the whipping post.  Buckle up asshat…

1 to 10?

Came across a question someone asked on another website I like to peruse when I am avoiding.  “On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your relationship with your parents?”  I tried to answer that question, but I don’t know the answer currently.  Emotional abuse, and neglect by both, physical abuse by one.  Now they are old and facing the end of their days… are they really changing?  Seeking forgiveness?  Still the same ole scumbags trying every possible means to control and destroy and just trying harder to disguise it?  I want to forgive.  I must forgive… but I want to throw stuff at them.  Scream at them.

My wife told me, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, but the other day, (at a special gathering), someone was discussing disciplining a child and your mother just leaned over and said, ‘I always found a riding crop to get the best results,’ as if that was completely normal. Who beats their kid with a riding crop and then acts like it’s normal?”  Well, my mother did.  Hair brushes were another of her favorites.

I don’t know the answer and that bothers me more than if I decided I was done with them.  Why can I not answer that?  I have also been dealing with the fact my family has isolated us so that I don’t know my extended family.  I don’t know anyone in my father’s family.  We were forbidden from visiting them when I was young so I never had that cousin relationship many have.  The only cousins I was allowed to know were my mother’s family, and drug addicted thieves aren’t fun to hang with.  Is that the reason I can’t answer the question?  If I show them the proverbial door I will be alone as far as extended family goes?  No friends, no extended family.  My wife, my 2 sons, and a soon to be daughter-in-law?

Therapy… WOW!

Some days I dread the end of my therapy session, some days it seems to never end.  Yesterday was one of those days.  I went in after a blah week and left absolutely exhausted.

A possible name of the monster in charge.  Can you assign levels of blame to abusers?  Are sexual abusers worse than the emotional/physical abusive parent?  The other parent who just checked out and turned a blind eye to it all?

Recognizing the shame and humiliation that brings about the RAGE even in simple disagreements.  Knowing what it comes from.  The root of it.  Trying to stop the new shame of being a grown man unable to control something like this, but being overjoyed in identifying it.

So much.  So tired.  Just the beginning…  Don’t quit now!

Let it begin!

As I progress through this journey one of the things I have found is I don’t know what I like to do.  Hobbies especially.  Are things I have liked in the past things I did for me?  Or was I doing them to make myself more acceptable to others?  Friends, family, and abusive parents?

I have been obsessed with Halloween for ages.  To the point that decorating became a misery rather than a time of fun.  When I think about it now, I still love horror movies, Halloween night, Haunted Houses, all the various trappings of Halloween, but I look at all my decorations and I just loathe them.

One of the few things I have done that still makes my heart flutter a touch is sailing.  I have owned  a number of sailboats over the years.  Little ones to large ocean class boats.  Oh my I love sailing.

Some of the hobbies I have been looking at lately are leather crafting and carving/whittling.  I currently kayak a bit and hope to turn that into kayak camping as the weather cools.  It is entirely to hot where I live to camp.

I am scared, but excited, as I feel like a newborn.  The world is new and exciting to me.  I truly feel like I am starting over.