Actually, I am not really done with my last post...
My therapy session yesterday was around the same old routine...I insist that I am inherently sick and have proof ...and my therapist disproves my theory. My personal opinion is that he is trying to make me feel better when in actual fact we all know that I am a raging lunatic.
My Dad would tell me I was sick... as a teen I would cut and burn myself. I was devestated when my mother caught me doing it one night. I knew that it would prove to my Dad yet again that I was a complete and utter fuck-up.
He would tell me I was sick, in response to things I would say or have an interest in. When he did...I felt he was right. I was ashamed...the disgust he felt towards me was tangible. I hated myself in those instances and wished that I knew better and knew what to say or do to make him feel proud of me. I feel so angry when I think back at how helpless I felt as I could not impact him...regardless of how hard I tried.
At least today at 32...there is nothing he can fault me on...
And let him just try!!!!
