The anonymity of my blog has been breached! A raid is impending! RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My dad's favorite Atari game, and thus mine, was called River Raid. We would play that for hours, and I can still remember how proud my dad was when I, a 5 year old girl, beat my 4 cousins, all males over the age of at least 12.
Now my life feels like that piece of land... a plane soaring overhed, guns loaded, and a feeling of total vulnerability.
Today during my first counseling appointment in more than 6 months, I talked to my counselor about my blog. I mentioned that I had blogged about the dream I had about my dad. She asked me to find some things to share from the blog. I should probably just give her the address, but that's too open, to wierd. She mentioned that I am uncomfortable sharing...
Me? Uncomfortable sharing????? No. Girl, I can tell an entire room of people that I need to pee! How can she say I'm uncomfortable sharing?!
But thinking about that, I realized that I AM uncomfortable about sharing anything that matters. I can touch on something painful in therapy, but then I flit off into something safe. Drama with the neighbors, with the classmates... something safe, something that doesn't show too much about me, something that doesn't hurt too much.
I feel a shift in my life, a way for me to open myself and let the broken places be seen, and later be healed. I am so tightly wound around these subjects, I don't even allow God into them. I don't allow the husband there either. They are dark, scary places that I don't let anyone touch, EVER. The minute I feel something in these areas, I bury it so deep it can't emerge again. Even if I blog about it, it is only a temporary openness... and then my feelings are buried again.
To heal past the point I've reached, I have to face the things I locked away. I have to face the monster I see myself as, the scared little girl I once was, and everything else locked away in the deep dark corners of my soul.
I really hope the result is worth all this drama!
My dad's favorite Atari game, and thus mine, was called River Raid. We would play that for hours, and I can still remember how proud my dad was when I, a 5 year old girl, beat my 4 cousins, all males over the age of at least 12.
Now my life feels like that piece of land... a plane soaring overhed, guns loaded, and a feeling of total vulnerability.
Today during my first counseling appointment in more than 6 months, I talked to my counselor about my blog. I mentioned that I had blogged about the dream I had about my dad. She asked me to find some things to share from the blog. I should probably just give her the address, but that's too open, to wierd. She mentioned that I am uncomfortable sharing...
Me? Uncomfortable sharing????? No. Girl, I can tell an entire room of people that I need to pee! How can she say I'm uncomfortable sharing?!
But thinking about that, I realized that I AM uncomfortable about sharing anything that matters. I can touch on something painful in therapy, but then I flit off into something safe. Drama with the neighbors, with the classmates... something safe, something that doesn't show too much about me, something that doesn't hurt too much.
I feel a shift in my life, a way for me to open myself and let the broken places be seen, and later be healed. I am so tightly wound around these subjects, I don't even allow God into them. I don't allow the husband there either. They are dark, scary places that I don't let anyone touch, EVER. The minute I feel something in these areas, I bury it so deep it can't emerge again. Even if I blog about it, it is only a temporary openness... and then my feelings are buried again.
To heal past the point I've reached, I have to face the things I locked away. I have to face the monster I see myself as, the scared little girl I once was, and everything else locked away in the deep dark corners of my soul.
I really hope the result is worth all this drama!
1 comment:
I was a HUGE Atari player back in the day, but I don't remember that game. :/
Maybe your counselor reading this stuff on your blog could add some extra insights. :) I think you will be okay. Hang in there!
Post a Comment