journal entry ~ february 16, 2011

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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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journal entry
february 16, 2011
12:11 AM

I feel sad this evening. I'm not sure why. Could be that I'm just tired.

I feel grief.

I miss the grand purpose of The Way. I miss the purpose of the Knapp project. I want to know I matter.

I do matter. I matter to Jethro and Yerba and my family and Lewis and Leah.

Isn't that enough?

I matter to Robin and Fred and Marta. I matter to Lema.

I matter to Chris.

I matter to Joe.

I matter to Karen.

Yet, I feel I don't matter that much. And that's o.k.

I don't matter to Greasespotters. I don't matter to Jeff. I don't matter to John Knapp...or at least I matter very little to Knapp.

And that hurts, to know that I matter little to Knapp.

Why did he do what he did to me? I just get so baffled when I think about it. I don't understand it - how someone who I thought was so concerned with healing be so....focused inwardly; so fixated on his own need that he is blind to the effect his retaliation has on others. And then, why I couldn't see it.

Knapp's discussion board is still up. I don't know why. I'm still listed as administrator and moderator, though I resigned. I wish he'd at least take me off of being an admin and mod.

I could sign in and do so, but I don't want to sign in.

Hm, I wonder if I am showing up now on search engines as being on Knapp's board.

Why John? Why? Why.....

Do you know how bad it has felt? The anxiety and agony of wrestling with the decision of whether or not to report you...and then what to share.

As I compiled everything for the complaint, I was stunned at my own stupidity and lack of maturity in seeing what was happening. I'm embarrassed.

And then I feel bad for you, John. I hurt for you. I hurt if you don't succeed with the non-profit. Yet, I don't want the non-profit to be successful.

It's confusing to me...these mixed emotions.

For the pain I caused, I'm sorry. Reporting you was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

I don't hate you. I wonder if you think that now? Like when you told me that Mia "hates you."

I grieve the loss of our relationship. I want to hear from you and I'm also afraid of you.

I feel I've lost my ability to write, my passion for writing.

And then I write, like this now...and I feel I haven't lost it. I can never lose that aspect.

Words...what a magical ride.

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