I keep reading about how this stage of healing is normal and necessary.  I’m still pretty tired of it.  I’m tired of feeling fear and anger.  I’m tired of closing my eyes and seeing screaming in my head.  I bet you didn’t know someone could see screaming.  I feel trapped and overwhelmed and desperate.  I feel like an animal. I feel like I am barely connected to the thinking part of me.  All I want to do is hurt someone.  Myself, other people… it really doesn’t matter.  I just want to get this pain out of me.  I’m really worried about having to spend a week or more freaking out about each individual trauma in my life.  I probably don’t need to explain how awful that would be, right?  For each incident?  Oh god.

It’s interesting how the old processing gets mixed in with my current anxieties and worries and morphs.  I have a really high level of inappropriate anger.  I am seething with anger over things that happened over a decade ago and it makes me jitter.  I am really struggling not to do significantly more hostile things than I have already done.  I haven’t self harmed in the past day.  That’s my first big victory of getting through this patch.  Last night I was freaking out and wanted to self-harm.  I comforted Shanna instead.

I need to get a futon.  I actually suspect that if I had a sleeping space in the garage away from the kids I could sleep at night.  I can’t move in my bed because the little @#$# darling children kick me in the face.  Shanna has been joining us in the middle of the night lately because she’s scared.  She wants more time with me and she doesn’t know how to get it during the day.  There isn’t enough time for her to get as much attention as she wants.  I’m struggling with how resentful I feel.  This is why I can’t have a job.  If I had to deal with the clinging limpet thing after work every day I would be so very violent.  The job would take away all my people-cope for the day and I would come home and hate her for touching me.

I don’t want to hate my children.  Not at all.  Not even for five minutes.  I don’t hate them.  Oh god.  Sometimes I do.  I hate them for touching me sometimes because I am so angry and upset that I still don’t have any right to have my body treated gently.  Never in my life have I had the experience of people being kind and gentle to my body on an on-going basis.  The vast majority of my sex has been focused on me being as uncomfortable/in as much pain as possible.  That seems to be what most of my lovers want from me.  Maybe it’s just what I tell them I want.  Maybe it’s just what I was told I was allowed to have.  Maybe I’m so tired of my body hurting that I feel weak and defeated.  I feel like my option in life is to suck it up and adapt to being hurt more.

That’s why I’m flashing back to the institution.  My kids do a lot of sitting on me and hurting me.  The only thing I can really do is heavily dissociate so that at least I am not hurting them back.  Today is going to be hard.  I can already feel my throat closing in panic.  I can hear Calli in the kitchen with Noah.  I should go pick her up and take her off Noah’s hands while he makes breakfast.  Instead I am hiding in the garage while I sob.  I don’t want my baby to touch me.  I don’t want her to pinch me or hit me or kick me or roughly grab my throat if I don’t respond fast enough.  I don’t want her to bite my nipple or twist it or yank on it or grind it or roll it or…

Weaning isn’t going very quickly.  She’s a baby.  She’s not ready to lose nursing.  On the good days it’s alright.  She’s already done very well at adapting to other people putting her to sleep.  She loves outings with Noah for basically the entire day.  She can hang out with Sarah almost all day.  She’s pretty equally fussy for them as me.  She has cut down her nursing, but it’s still happening and I’m feeling very avoidant.  I’m really hoping that she passes this sensitivity to cow dairy.  That would make weaning easier.

Now I’m out of the body memories because I am listening to Noah and Calli play and talk.  It’s really nice.  Earlier on in Shanna’s life I felt this constant pressure to be present.  I couldn’t let them have their private time.  Life is a lot easier on me since I have gotten over that stupid hangup.  No, I don’t think mothers should be required to be on duty 24/7.  I kind of hate my life.  Sure I half-heartedly encourage other people to consider having a stay at home parent (doesn’t need to be mom) because I think there is a lot more focus on a family unit that way but it’s my stupid prejudice and there are studies that agree and disagree with me and people will do what they need to do.  So there.  Maybe I’m feeling defensive about something else-net and I’m now over reacting.  Charming.