Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Can you hold me but not touch me? Can you touch me but not hurt me?

Dear DT: I know that last night you were not utilizing flying lesbo nun skills with respect to the boxes, I know it was a trauma approach you were using…and I hope you know that I do try hard to get through each night. Not a night goes by that I don’t feel the hatred boiling inside of me…remember those scars written within of me – it feels like deep jagged cuts that have been sealed off from the outside, yet remain an open wound visible only to me, and those within me…my past self bleeding relentlessly into my present, intrusive and uninvited. Not a night goes by that I don’t try to throw it all in those boxes and fight like hell not to cut through my skin in a last ditch effort to get it out of me. It’s like having a baby – you’re scared about the thought of actually giving birth but the pain of labor is so intense that you’ll do anything it get the kid out of you! That’s how this feels.

I shake constantly at night now. I curl up in my comfy chair, shaking and freezing cold…wrapped in blankets, sobbing and begging that girl to come back. The strong girl – the fearless girl… I need her to come back. I need her desperately. And every night it’s like a tsunami hits me and I try to find some sort of shelter for if I do not, it will surely kill me. And I begin to question my trust in everyone and everything.

I did not believe this process would be “easy” but I did not comprehend the depth of the pain, and I miscalculated how much it would hurt, how complex it would be, and how long it would take. I did not realize the extent of the damage, the overwhelming feelings of helplessness and sheer terror. I overestimated my strength in the present and didn’t realize how strong she was back then. When I shoved everything in those “boxes” I had no idea how much it had impacted my life, how much it has continued to impact my life.

You told me that you understand why I continue to question you and why, after 4 years, this trust barrier keeps bubbling to the surface…and that I should trust you on some level because you have not abandoned me in four years. But there are questions that cycle through my head over and over again, surfacing at different times, brought up by different voices…questions about trust, questions about your ability to stand with me and not leave me in the middle of all of this pain.

Can you accept knowing I may never be whole?

If I need you too, can you take this box and lock it away so it can’t hurt me anymore?
Can you take the crying one, and the worthless one, the one who hurts me, and the one who pushes you away…and hear them?
Can you “create a nurturing space” for all of them, and “hold” them week after week for the next who knows how many years?
Can you *accept* me as broken?
Can you hold me but not touch me?
Can you touch me but not hurt me?

Can you refrain from using the WORDS ON THE “BAD” LIST (words that typically trigger me to shut down or go on a borderline rampage): CONSISTENT, DBT, CONTAINMENT, DRUGS…the phrase “I know my changes don’t feel fair to you”…and please, please, please, please…don’t tell me that you are sorry you are not here now.
There are always “exceptions”:
You may use DBT in a ‘humorous’ way…such as making fun of your crush on the flying nun or any other humor as it relates to that Brady girl, or her philosophical bullshit.
You can say you’re “sorry” that we still hurt, that the 5 year old feels unsafe , and for the continued pain we feel – but please do not say that you’re sorry you aren’t here “the way you were” – because we both know you’re not sorry you’re not “here” –why would you be? Why should you be?
You can say it isn’t fair for adults to fuck kids, but please do not say you know that your availability changes “still don’t feel fair to me.” Because fair doesn’t matter…we both know
You can send ‘virtual’ hugs, angels, pink-decorated boxes with sequins!

You can help me create a ‘safe’ place, but please understand that I can’t always find it.
You can tell me that you know I am stronger than I feel, and I have been through worse, and I can and will survive.
You can remind me that I have the heart rock and to wrap up in my blue blanket.
I like it when you tell me that you will “be with me in spirit’…and “hold me in your heart” and “keep me in your thoughts”…and call me “sweetie” like you do sometimes on the phone and in your office – all of those things you say are soothing and calming, and make me feel cared for…but please – don’t use the bad list, DT.
Because I don’t feel well now…and I feel small and sad –but I am okay with feeling sad for now~ I would rather feel sad than to feel that all-consuming rage. Sadness is quieter…it doesn’t take as much energy. And I really don’t have much to give right now.
Please, DT…no bad words...bad words hurt Gracie

Grace, I wish that I could arrange these boxes or line them up, open them up with extra filters and resealable cracks, so that you could carefully and with whatever control you need and want...look, feel, taste, hear, etc just as little or much as you want. I wish that we could use x-ray glasses to be able to look inside without the fear or it all spilling out. Oh, how I wish there was a way for you to titrate all this like a tiny little dropper into your delicate, yet strong body, slowly enough for you to assimilate and digest it fully.

I will continue to remember that you need me to "hold" all the parts of you. Your request that I accept that you may never be "whole" is reasonable. However, while I will always accept you in your experience of feeling broken, I will still ask you if you are content enough with your healing process. I will continue to ask you to remain true to yourself and be courageous in this process of learning how to "hold" the parts of you that feel "unholdable” horribly difficult and aversive as this is much of the time.

I will continue to remember that you try every night and that some nights are just "too much". I wish you some quietness in your sadness tonight and to know that if I had an angel, I would ask her to fly over to you and wipe off your tears as the roll down your face.

Get some rest and give some strength back to the part of you that is tired....

G-night, DT


  1. Why do you have to put the girl in a box? Fuck the flying nun and her lesbian lovers, tuck that kid into a bed and put my Rambo to guard the goddamn door. He's heavily armed. You can borrow him if you like.

  2. First of all, my dear, there seriously isn't ANYONE, straight, lesbian or bi who would fuck Marsha, Marsha, you think?

    And, second, I would love it if you would send Rambo to hold the little girl and keep her safe...with all of his artillery...that would be super.

    Also, I've left some comments on you recent posts.... ~ G