bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary

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My next appointment with my therapist has me in a bit of a panic. We've decided to start getting into the trauma stuff, starting with the incident that lead to my hospitalization almost a decade ago. I haven't actually talked about it in detail. I'm careful not to. I gloss over a lot. I minimize, invalidate and make a joke out of it all. There's so much I don't remember. There's so much I don't want to remember.

I only have snapshot memories--still frame images. Me, on my knees in the gravel of the park driveway; a mentally abusive sociopath holding a shotgun aimed at my head. I can still hear is voice, "You want me to fucking do it?!" I can still hear the gun being cocked.

What was I thinking? It's so hard to look back with any kind of compassion... And it's all so ridiculous.

My urge to laugh at the sheer insanity of all of it may be a defense mechanism, but it makes it a lot easier to compartmentalize.

2:42 p.m. - 07.08.17

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