Raking Up the Past

Does serious therapy really work?

I don’t mean of the kind where one needs to be working through present issues, - like I need to see a therapist to spew out my frustration with my daughter’s behaviour, she is being treated for OCD (obsessive, compulsive disorder) with an anti-depressant and has gone hypo-manic.

I mean for dealing with some terrible things that may have happened in the past.

I started to write a blog about a series of events that caused me misery when I was a child. It would have been a textbook detailing of a child’s emotional and then sexual abuse by irresponsible, insensitive relatives who were unfortunately the guardians of the child after the mother died of cancer.

Except for one-liners to state the incidents to my psychiatrist so that he was aware in case he ever needed to take them into consideration to prescribe my medications, I have never mentioned the details to anyone.

People perceive me as an optimistic and emotionally strong person and depend on me as a sounding board when they are in a bind. I have never wanted anybody to feel sorry for me. So I have never spoken to anyone.

Since I am writing my blog under a moniker I thought I’d write about those days, but I just couldn’t handle it. I was miserable and had to stop as I felt I could spiral into a depression.

IT WAS FRIGHTENING.

My memory is shot. Much of the details of those times I have forgotten completely. I seem to have always dealt with the unpleasant in life by sweeping those events well under the carpet. As a result I have lost years of my life, but very possibly coped better. My optimism is part of my spirit, but it has caused me much of my memory.

It’s the preferable trade off.

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