By Any Other Name - August 7th, 2011
the tale of Willow

Date: 04:22PM | Sun, August 7th | 2011
Subject: Just Before I Fell Asleep
Security: Public
Tags:#s is for survivor, about me, health: emotional, health: mental

So I write it down here quickly before I forget; I've been teasing out my anger over certain issues, just kind of poking it once I admitted it was there. And I've realized that yes, the cookie seeking was annoying me and the OH NO! NOT IN OUR COMMUNITY was some seriously annoying BS. I don't walk around thinking that ever, about any damn space. So, that was a measure of privilege that was just jabbing me. But, the anger had more to do with me (as I had originally suspected and put in my title and mentioned); and I've begun to suss out why.

I am angry at my past and what I went through and the hoops I was made to jump through, some of which I've spoken about here or to individual people who might possibly read this. I was remembering those hoops and the questioning and the disbelief. And my anger, which had never been at the survivor (other than my confusion at letting other people speak for them and people using the term victim // **rolls eyes at the people who betrayed my trust, in them**) but that the times and circumstances did not allow for me (and many many others, and STILL many others) to remotely get that support. Any support.

You shouldn't have to belong to a particular community and one feeling shocked 'that such things could happen to one of them' - in order for people to wake up to boundary crossing and moral impasses and ethical no'es. I know I mentioned my rage at it all. At what wasn't happening and what was happening. At the unfairness. And now I can consciously pinpoint it all down; That feeling of betrayal I'm currently feeling due to .... circumstances. It's very close to what I felt then. And when I pondered why I felt betrayal, boom. Memories.

It was a kind of jealousy. But it was also an abreaction*. Which would explain why my subconscious knew I had to write it out, in order to work through it. And this is my processing space; to say I'll write some things pflocked - they don't actually get written. Cause my brain will think it might as well as just be thoughts in my head.

In other related news; Yes. Betrayal. I am really really angry and sick and tired of people who befriend my littles and then walk away from them. Little kids don't need abandonment issues. They didn't do anything wrong. It's an issue between adults (mostly). But then again, that boils down to being treated like a singleton when I'm not.

To folks who've worried; I'm, ok I'm not doing ok. But I'm not dead or dying or gonna die, I don't think. I just feel like crap, utter, utter, horrible, sun luke warmed crap. But I know theoretically, that if I put one foot in front of the other, I can manage this. I'm just in shock and hurt, and the littles feel betrayed and I'm doing that mental wrestling about if it's worth it to let people in. And I'm exhausted and depressed.

* -- *

*Abreactions don't seem to have good definitions in or Wikipedia. My former therapist explained it to me as an emotional flashback. And a flashback was precisely what I'd been experiencing; intrusive thoughts, wellspring of emotions I couldn't find the corners to deal with, and of course no idea what I was feeling was then and not so much now. Considering I didn't have therapy this week (Dr. Yoda's on vacation), the fact that I figured this out on my own feels big.

It also hammers home to me I (still) don't regret at all writing what I did and that the various leaps to judgement over a person's feelings, just adds more trauma to someone already experiencing a trauma. Yes, someone else's violation affected me. And I wrote about it affecting me. I didn't 'make their violation all about me'. It could NEVER BE ALL ABOUT ME. I could only ever react to and deal with and wrestle with my own stuff. It's that whole thing where actions in a world have context and ripples and are never done in utter vacuum isolation. If that wasn't a factor there wouldn't have ever been that reaction of 'Oh noes! Not in our community'.

Oh yeah. And the door is STILL over there. Uncheck the box as needed.

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By Any Other Name
of Willow
January 2016