I remember playing in the sandbox in my backyard, I was building a sand castle for My Little Pony! I remember my mother coming outside and leaving. She left me with him, alone for almost the entire day.
I remember that day as if it was yesterday. Some days, it feels as if it really was yesterday. Memories are starting to surface more and more now, memories that I had buried in my mind so I could wake up every day and survive.
It is going to be incredibly difficult to share these memories, to verbalize them, to make them real.
Ever since I shared my memory, I have been in a pattern of resistance. Fighting the process, fighting the trust in my counselor; not wanting to talk or share on any kind of level. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, the resistance. I am trying to understand the reason behind it, trying to remove the block that is causing it. I think it is because of the vulnerability I felt while sharing and then being left alone with the after effects, my inner critic kicking my proverbial ass.
I'm also very scared. The intimate conversation, the vulnerability, it is all so very scary. I need to reassure myself that it's OK to be vulnerable, it's OK to share, it's OK to be scared.
I need to convince myself that everything that has happened to me does not define me. It is not who I am.
I need to continue to get this poison out before it destroys me.