Friday, February 14, 2014

i hate what i'm writing

9/21/2002

it almost feels cruel... the things i wish i could say to family. even understanding that it's just therapeutic ranting, a way to let off steam, doesn't make it feel better.

back in the hospital in fayetteville, there was a day when i took the chance to vent. they had been trying to get me to verbalize feelings of anger the whole time we'd been there. being pregnant didn't help the emotional stability a bit.

we'd just spent a weekend on pass at home with charlie. we'd had an argument and i was angry with him. so, i vented in group. big, big, BIG mistake. we ended up saying everything we'd held inside since the beginning of our marriage and toward the end one of the people in the group attacked.

not physically, but i wish she had. she spent the rest of the time telling me what a selfish, loveless, worthless piece of shit i was. she screamed at me that i lied when i said i loved my husband and verbally thrashed me without rebuke from either of the staff members present. the more i tried to defend myself, the more vicious she got and when we gave up and curled into a ball in the chair we were attacked even more for trying to get sympathy attention.

it hurts just thinking about it. a classic example of why we've had such a hard time accepting it's okay to feel anger. it's why it had to be seperated into other parts of me. no wonder there is so much still unspoken and such fear of letting it be seen. even writing these letters, i know some random asshole will feel the need to fly through and ream us for writing them. even knowing that the anonymous deserve no recognition, doesn't ease the fear of being condemned again and again and again.

it won't stop us. we need to do this.