Dis-ease

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Preface: The following is more from my personal journal and/or other writings as I moved through the inner turmoil after the Knapp trauma which happened the end of July/beginning of August, 2010. The sharings are simply my thoughts at the time processing through events that took place with my ex-therapist, John M. Knapp, LMSW. To access an ongoing index, click here and scroll down to the section entitled June 26, 2011.
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July 18, 2011, added note: As of yet, that I can find, I have not written details about when someone contacted me at the end of November, 2010, wanting to discuss something with me. We finally connected the beginning of December. That something was the person's then-recent experience with John Knapp wherein the person stated to me that they "felt like John put a gun to [their] head and pulled the trigger." That situation gave way to the emotional turmoil I wrote about the end of November and the beginning of December, 2010.
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journal entry ~ dis-ease
12/08/10. 12:31 AM

I'm self hurting.

I know it's wrong.

My self-hurting isn't cutting myself. I eat. I loathe. I've caught myself telling myself, "You're horrible and worthless. Your actions prove it. Knapp proved it. You're not even good enough for that stupid, god-damn non-profit he's formulating. You're a jerk. You've done nothing with your life that serves anyone. You have no career, no professional training. You spent your adult life sick and in a cult. You leave. You think you might help others. And it ends up the platform where you thought maybe you could do some good is run by a self-serving jackass."

I am so angry. It burns. And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know where to put it. If I write about it, what difference does that make. It's so inconsequential. I am so inconsequential. If I write, no one hears anyway. There is nothing I can do about this shit. I'm just a person who has no credentials, no say. Another of the unheard. Why does any of it even fucking matter?

I hate Knapp. I hate that what he did affects me so much. What is fucking wrong with me that I can't just go along? And if I do, I have this simmering boil underneath. I don't act out toward others; I turn on myself. Hell, it was even Knapp that pointed out that my self-loathing was not that much different than a cutter.

I feel like a rabid dog.

Why does it burn so? What lies beneath all this self-hatred? Can anyone really understand it? How can I love others when I hate myself?

There is so much pain.

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~ in the house <><> rabid dog <><> seeking its prey <><> i watch from the rafters ~
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