Get your own
 diary at DiaryLand.com! contact me older entries newest entry

9:50 p.m. - 01/23/02
brought to you by the letter a.
once upon a time there was a girl and she wrote letters to her therapist and posted them on the net. once upon a time around 9:50.

*

I wrote this yesterday - actually I might have finished it this morning; it was pretty late, and though I was pretty out of it, and writing more for my own peace of mind than to share, I think it's important that this actually be read. So anyway...

_

Dear Harriet,

Yesterday was the anniversary of this world losing Tracy and you and I, we talked last night. Sometimes in your presence, I get the very strong feeling that I'm about to be in trouble, and that makes it even harder to say all the things fear begs me to let remain unsaid. There are sets of laws and rules based in two basic worlds: concern and power, and sometimes no matter how obvious the concern is or should be I see some strictly-enforced rule, and in terror of the power, run. Somewhere inside of me one of the unspoken truths is whispering, "Don't tell her or you'll give her not-understanding the logical power it needs to destroy you." You said when we talked that anger is an acceptable feeling, that we experience anger toward situations or people who we believe threaten us. I hope you recognize this about fear also, as, even in the telling, I'm afraid my fear will be dismissed. There are, I know, many reasons not to listen to me. I'm 16, I'm sick, I have an addiction which thrives upon the acceptance of distorted thought processes. However, I've been recovering from that illness for one year now, and though I'll admit what a short time that is, I have learned some basic truths to follow. One of which is this: I have wisdom. I have an understanding of myself *in* myself and though it is often buried in the survivalist beliefs I still cling to, it IS there. It's important than that I trust myself, even the parts of myself I feel discomfort toward, such as my anger and fear. It is important also that I *feel* I'm trusted, especially as my fledgling self-concept wavers easily, and in a relationship where I'm unaware those beliefs are trusted, I'm likely to abandon them. Or perhaps- to abandon the relationship, as I suggested last night I *must* leave my parents. But I'm not talking about my parents. I'm talking about us.

My need to have you like me comes, in part, from the somewhat naive belief I have that a person who likes me won't hurt me. I've told you that my recent life is filled with a knowledge that something extremely terrible is about to happen, and often in our sessions, I connect that to the feeling that I'm about to be in trouble. I feel like if I can't get you to like me, something awful will happen. I feel as long as you don't like me, I'm endangered. I keep trying to explain myself to you, hoping to discover something, anything, you can trust or pity or care for- anything so that you won't let the power you have destroy me. Still, each time, I only end up feeling more misunderstood, more isolated, and more afraid. Please understand. When I told you yesterday that I felt you were all I had in terms of chances what I meant to say was that you are the one person I'm still supposed to be talking to, you are the understood head of this treatment team, and if I can't be understood by you, what hope do I have left? I am so infinitely scared of you and your perception of me. I know that in my fear I may be magnifying your power, but it feels to me as if you *are* my advocate right now, so if we cannot communicate, what voice do I have?

I know that I hold responsibility in this, and I'm scared you'll think it's juvenile of me to be so focused on you. I know that I have a part to play, that I must meet you "at least halfway." But every time I reach out, what follows, that overwhelming feeling of fear that I am not understood, is so gruesome. I feel compelled to run. The more I reach out and try to connect with you, the harder it gets, and the less I want to. Every time I try again and feel it doesn't work, the more the desperation grows, and the closer I feel to that point where there are no longer any options. Tracy got to that point. I know you say I have as many chances as I want to have, and honestly, you're probably more right than I'll ever be, but last night I understood something I've spent the last month not wanting to understand. I understood that there was a possibility Tracy did understand what she was doing that night, the possibility that she *did know* what she was doing, or thought she did. I understood because I felt so trapped and desperate that the idea of being at a point where you felt no one understood or *would* understand and the only way to keep that reality from doing even more damage was to end it completely, made sense. And I'm terrified to even be telling you *that* because I'm afraid you'll just jump into action for my safety or well-being without having a true understanding of what that is. At my best I am a person of uncompromised integrity, and at my worst I am grieving and beating myself up for having surrendered it. If you can believe that, maybe you can imagine how fundamentally painful it is for me to find myself struggling *so much* to be honest with you. I've let this fear stay silent for so long that it's making me into the things I most hate: manipulative, dishonest, and so on. I *want* to talk, I want to work through my pain, but how - when I've convinced myself that any information I give you will add to your power- and end me?

You talk about keeping me safe. In terms of nourishment and hydration, I have my work with Tammy, who, when she and I last talked, was confidant that my eating was not cause for concern. In terms of the cutting, I admit the one transgression last week was not "nothing" but if anything I left that incident *more* inclined not to self-injure. Cutting, and understanding that I did it only to feel some power in a seemingly "helpless" time, reminded me that I get nothing from it. Nothing improved- except my resolve not to use those behaviors again. The contract feels rigid to me and that rigidity counters recovery. It seems to me to mirror the eating disorder, expecting no less than perfection on every point. I feel shame because of it, and we both know I have enough shame. Even if you believe this is an appropriate reaction to breaking the contract, it only builds the self-loathing that *leads* to me breaking those terms, and, as I feel that you look down on me for doing so, makes it harder to talk. I just wonder why it has to be so much about the behaviors. Yes, I have an eating disorder, yes, it is a dangerous illness, but I am also a *person.* A person who existed without an eating disorder and would need help whether she had one or not. I know that I can't do the work if I'm using the behaviors, that's what helps me NOT do them, but it isn't perfect and being so afraid to incriminate myself that I end up not talking, means not doing the work, means a stronger likelihood I'll use the behaviors. I don't think you understand what it took for me to say I needed out of this house, and to have the conversation then jump back into the importance of proper hydration was simply devastating. I took every bit of strength I still felt and said that and to hear in return about nutrition broke me. I didn't know what to do; I *don't* know what to do. Dr. R tells me it doesn't have to end the way it did for Trace and I want very much to believe him, but I also need to believe there is a point where I can say something and have it change a circumstance for the better. I say, "I can't be in school", I end up enrolled. I say, "I need out of the house; I need to be somewhere safe" time is up and *I am the one* in that car going back to this house. You say, "you can take your time saying whatever it is; we have an hour;" meanwhile I feel like every breath I *do* breathe is one tick closer to whatever time bomb I feel coming. I feel like there's just too little time, I feel like I've no place where I can be heard, I feel like I'm running in circles saying the same things over and over again while the solutions get further and further away.

You told me the first day that you thought you could help me and I wanted to believe you then but I *need* to believe you now. Tracy and I made a promise - we were supposed to get out of this together, but she left and I'm the one dealing with the craziness every day, so I need some real belief that there *is* another way for it to go. I need to know that I'm not just waiting to get more and more hurt because I don't know what threshold I have left. I'm not giving up, but I need to know there's something to be holding on FOR... ?

Please.

Mary

*

you didn't really read all that right? you just scrolled down? good for you. :-)

chord

previous - next

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at DiaryLand.com!