(The following is a journal entry I just came across that I wrote while I was in therapy years ago. This is not a piece of writing, but an entry from my journal. The insight I had then grips me today!)
It is strange watching and listening to the “experts” who are so confident they know what is best for me. While they miss what is needed, the obvious, even act as though they fear for me to have it. They tell me that I am strong, that I can make it on my own, that it is good for me to be alone. I lost everything I had ever hoped and dreamed of, I lost the life I thought would be my future. I lost all my friends and family.The very thing I need discouraged and withheld from me.
Everyone has moved away in one form or another, as if they are afraid. Afraid to give me what I need, believing somehow that because they speak it makes it so. Living with the pain and memories of the abuse is like being on my death bed and no one knowing what to say. As if by ignoring my pain it somehow no longer exists. So they walk away, emotionally. In their ignorance, I’m silenced. While the reality of abuse remains with me.
If only someone could believe in me, love me, and free me to love in return. The love of a friend, a lover, a human being alive and a part of this world. I am not talking about dysfunction or abuse. But true love that knows how to cherish what is given.
It’s not just being loved I need. The love inside of me burns in passion with a need to give. It is not just that love has been withheld. But the love inside of me has been held captive, silent, unexpressed. You talk about not existing, this is killing me!
No one knows or seems to understand the healing this would bring to my life. In being loved and free to give love in return, I could handle feeling the pain of my past. Feeling that pain demands I feel the emptiness, the abuse, the lack of love in my life. I need love to hold on to in order to survive my past. I need to know I am worth something of value in this life. I need to be able to give as well as receive.
Remembering my past while realizing I am at the same place now, unloved and unwanted, is unbearable. It frightens me. The “experts” don’t hear what their words say, the words they speak. They expect me to live without the most basic needs being met and somehow find wholeness. It is all absurd to me. How could I ever express my fears when I hear the words they speak?
They say I am strong, I can do it on my own, while they return home to their families never knowing what it feels like to be so alone, unloved, unattached. It’s not fair to speak so casually about something so painful that you know nothing of or you so easily forget. It is ignorance that speaks. This silences me. The only explanation I can come up with is that their words protect them from having to see the pain and face the truth, my reality.
I have been strong, and I have been on my own. The abuse demanded this of me. I’m so tired of being alone. Their words feel like abuse, and yet they think they are comforting me. They only reaffirm my fear, that something is wrong with me. The epitome of the abuse is the aloneness, can’t anyone see?
It’s like being beaten when I am already injured almost beyond repair. Like being kicked when I am already flat on the ground. Assuming this is what I need. That this is good for me. That this will somehow make me tough and whole, an individual, my own person.
If this were so, I would be that person. If only someone could see and believe in me, reach out, move toward me, not away. Love and accept me, and hold on to me, never letting me go. Not trying to diagnose me, or teach me lessons, or decide what is best for me. Telling me what I can live with and what I can live without. Never stopping to ask me what I want or need. Treating me as if I am not a person, yet saying they believe I am. Never believing I could possibly know what is best for me or what I need. Forgetting the answers we all seek lie within each of us.
It is in being heard that answers come. It is in moving toward someone you let them know you truly believe in them.
The “experts” have failed, but who am I to speak?