Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Give me a break! And I don't mean break me off a piece of your "Kit-Kat" bar!

You know what really makes me laugh? The fact that you had the nerve to say that you made me go to DBT under the premise that I had no skills and might off myself and you were "concerned".

“Grace, we cannot do trauma processing until you have the skills to regulate your emotions.” WHAT? Do you not see that you telling me I have no “skills” is a validation of him telling me I’m stupid. You telling me I should shut up and behave is him telling me I’m worthless and have nothing valuable to contribute. And I should shut up or be beaten!

Don’t you get it? You preached DBT for so long, you say you didn’t *make* me go to the classes, but, in my world, that’s no different than trying to fight, but never being heard, and the fighting just makes it worse (he beat me/fucked me ~ you “changed” your rules) so I roll over and take it. Because obviously I am stupid and worthless and I should shut up because I don’t know what’s best for me.

And now ANYTHING that resembles DBT is like the smell of bleach to me. Can you hear that? You forced it on me for so long last year that I finally realized that fighting you wouldn’t do any good anymore – so I rolled over – paid the 2 grand so I could feel Marsha Linehan’s dick shoved down my throat instead of my father’s!

Perhaps if I hadn’t had my *fill* of my father, I could maybe have sex like a normal person – you know…sober! I could actually FEEL intimacy, have someone embrace me and not think they want to hurt me. I could stay present and not dissociate every day and night to escape the flashbacks and nightmares, the anxiety and fear. I could put bleach in the washer without vomiting. And maybe if I hadn’t felt *threatened* by you with the DBT shit, then maybe I could take some of the tools in without throwing up in my mouth or wanting to ram my head into a wall. But I can’t!

So if DBT is the only road out of this hell, we should just pack it up now, DT, because it ain’t going to happen. Can you hear that? What? You were “concerned” about my *skills* and my “ability to keep myself safe last year”…well, guess what? Now ANYTHING that resembles DBT sends me into a fit of rage, complimented by some sort of "self-injury". And I am WAY closer to the edge than you think - but you sure don't seem so "concerned" now, do you? I guess there's a "time limit" on concern... OR! **Grace is thinking bad thoughts about DTs changes coinciding w/her newfound relationship – but she isn't allowed to say that** Because guess what...just because you don't "help" me at night anymore, and just because you refuse to call me back when you're @ the hospital or "busy" - doesn't mean the shit fucking stops for me! Gee, DT, if a tree falls in the forest does it still make a sound even if no one is in the forest?

And as *maladaptive* as that may seem to you – well, I guess the only thing I can “offer” in response is: I’m a crazy bitch! If I were normal I wouldn’t need therapy at all, would I?
Give me a BREAK! And I don't mean break me off a piece of that kit-kat bar!

That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!


  1. ((((Gracie))))
    Sometimes "us huamns" just do not think what we say and sometimes what we say we do not think first before we say them and the devastating consequences they may have on others. Sorry the "skills" thing through you dear one! We are all very capable, no matter what we may think of ourselves and what others say. I am learning this too. Extremely hard!

    Thank you dear one for sharing.

  2. Hi Grace,

    One time I heard an analogy about spoken words. The person says them and they think they dropped a pebble. Meanwhile we are devastated and feel like they dropped a boulder that covers our whole body. This sounds like the boulder landed on you. I have had this happen many, many times in my relationships, too.

    Blessings and safe Hugs,


  3. JBR, yeah, I know - I just wish I could "forget" sometimes, you know? Like ALL of it! I hate that I always remember everything. I want a pill that will make me forget all the horrible painful stuff and leave only the memories of my children/DH and friends...and of course the skills I need to do my job.

    Hi Tammy, yeah, that's exactly the right metaphor -I often feel like I'm under a boulder. And what's worse, is I finally get it off of me for an hour and it comes crashin back down again!