I'm skipping over a huge period of journaling in 2005 which is most of the month of August 2005. Going over it was too overwhelming and had a lot to do with working, my relationship with Geoffrey and my continuing to self-injure. It was getting worse and I was feeling really disconnected and fragmenting a lot to the point where everything he was saying was "critical" to me. Some of it was, but most of it wasn't.
Geoffrey had become frustrated with my increasing frequency and intensity of bruising. Sometimes, it was everyday and several times during that day. It escalated to my hitting myself from my thighs to the top of my buttocks with a wooden spoon over 200 times at a time leaving welts and bruises. At times, it would also include taking a plastic hairbrush and removing the nubs and hitting myself at least until I was bleeding all over the area and then 100 time more once the bleeding started.
Right now, I am feeling so ashamed, embarrassed and in shock that I actually am going to post this. I actually feel kind of sick from anxiety of potential reactions. The only thing that I could tell you is that I wanted to numb out, I was feeling like I was bad, and like I needed to be punished partly for talking about the sexual abuse more. It was like I really wanted to injure myself to the point of thinking of breaking a bone.
Geoffrey says that my symptoms were/are severe which matches the abuse that I describe. It makes the puzzle pieces fall into place. This is hard for me to really take hold of and admit. Which is also where I am stuck in therapy right now. I don't want to admit how bad things were or how sick my mother is because then I have to deal with that reality of it was that bad.
I feel like every part of me wants to scream, "no, it was not that bad." I'm not really sure why. I think, part of it is because I don't want to feel the pain of how bad it was growing up. After this afternoon's session, I also think that I am angry that I have to learn how to comfort myself now because my mother never did that for me. I comforted her.
I just don't really understand there is so much in my head right now that I feel like I'm spinning and really need to talk with Geoffrey, but somehow I stop myself. Today, I heard what he was saying as I wasn't doing enough and I was purposefully resisting treatment. A part of me knows that wasn't what he was saying and the BPD part is in "I'm bad," so everything is getting filtered through that. I want to curl up and die. I think, I'll take a couple of my PRNs and take a nap.