It has been some time since my last blog entry. My therapist noticed somehow in the last few months, after 18 years of therapy with him, I was somehow getting better. That I had told him more about my grandfather's sexual abuse as a child in the last few months then I had in the entire 18 years he had known me. He took no credit, my psychiatrist took no credit. I think It all boils down to activity in this site. I have opened up for the first time. And though it's just typing, I know there are warm people actually reading it. I started a dream journal, and a journal to talk to my alters. The effect of which was me meeting my alters in dreams often, having so many dreams of importance. I recognized they were of some importance, but it wasn't until I brought it to my therapist, who until this point really had no interest in dreams, that he was able to just immediately, BAM, make total sense of them. They then happened more often and more and more was coming out of my subconscious.
While my psychiatrist kept insistent caution I could cause more damage than good, my therapist was ecstatic. Kind of pointing things out which made me come to realize that we had to wait these 18 years not for me to be ready, but for the alter that dealt with all the trauma to decide it was time bring some of the memories of the abuse to my consciousness. She was the one bringing those dreams and memories forward. It was her that decided it was time to start healing. She was finally ready.
I had an odd dream, the last that I can recall. As my drs, and psychiatrist leaving, mother( who I am the primary caregiver for) is dying of cancer, and now my dad has inoperable kidney cancer, has caused me to go back on the high dose of my meds, essentially cutting off my dreams. The dream was 2 men came to the alter(Anna) that deals with trauma and took her away to fulfill some destiny. She was to become death to either some future or some past event. Myself and some other of the alters fought to keep her but we were no match to what took her. It felt like she was borrowed. The idea that she was coming back one day was there, but I have had no significant dreams since that dream. I hope this isn't the end. I need her around to control the flood gates. Without her, nothing new gets to me.
I grew up with my mom. She grew up in a family that never showed emotion, never hugged, and she raised us that way. Since her diagnosis, I decided we are NOT going out that way and a minimum of one hug per day. She is finally opening up. I was not the only sexually abused child. Apparently, it runs in the family. In fact it seems to have run rampant in my family. It's sad. I'm sorry she had to endure this as well. apparently, my brother too, who I always had issues with was caught abusing a cousin, which makes me wonder about the mass of missing memories when I was young with him.
I don't know if I should put therapy off until moms passed on, but I don't see me able to deal then, and then my therapist will retire and I will have lost every single piece of my support system. I had read somewhere to live life because there will always be some crisis going on... life sure has been that way my whole life.