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Note: 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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if only i felt coals upon my lips
September 19, 2010
I feel like that dude in the Old Testament that no longer wants to speak.
I hope beyond hope this heaviness lifts.
Perhaps I will drop out of this cyber world .... and into local anonymity.
Perhaps that is the only proper action I can take. To walk away and pretend.
To walk away and forget.
Except for my memoir workshops. How could I ever walk away from those?
I hate this. I hate the entire circumstance about which I am not writing. And it was all so avoidable. This harm. This harm....did not have to be.
Paranoia can be a killer, is a killer, of relationships, of life.
So Carol, why should you hide?
Hubby and son hooked up the printer last night. We again have a printer. It's been at least 9 months.
I thought that when I had the printer, compiling the complaint would be easier. Technically it is. I can easily now align all the paperwork, compile it, number it, reference it with the incidents. But mentally, it is not easier.
I find myself in deep struggle. I spent all day in bed Saturday, eating Xanax.
That cannot continue.
I feel I'm in a lose-lose situation. I have to decide which loss I can live with better, without going into illness - mental or physical.
My insides scream, "Why?"
This was so avoidable, so very avoidable.
I shake my head. And my heart hangs heavy.
I cannot go back into deep depression. I must crawl out. But how can I crawl out and lie to myself?
If I take no action by not filing the complaint, is that not lying?
Perhaps I'll just eat more Xanax tonight.
What difference does it really make anyway?
What difference do I really make?
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i think i'll quit...
September 20, 2010
....writing.
Perhaps after this memoir work shop series, I'll just stop.
I'm not obligated to anyone.
What I have to say isn't that important.
It's all just .... letters on a screen or a page.
I remember when I used to journal so much. I'd wonder what would I ever do with all that jibberish?
After leaving The Way and starting to write, I thought maybe I could do something with it.
But now, I shrug.
"What's the point?"
Good question..."What is the point?"
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I wrote...
September 20, 2010
....a memoir piece this morning.
God, I feel better, just for writing a memoir snippet.
I must continue to write.
I had back spasms yesterday. And my left lung began hurting last night. I simply cannot go back to somaticizing again.
Stay your heart Carol, stay your mind. Accept any possible consequences that may come your way.
Besides, what is the worst that could happen? You end up in prison for not being silent?
That's a silly thought. Though it could happen, perhaps. Yet, I'd almost rather take that risk, than to end up silenced again. Than to end up trapped in my own body, in my own mind.
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