Therapy
Without Prejudice
I had my second visit to my therapist. I dressed up and as I did I realised I was very nervous. When I mentioned that to him he said it was probably because he was a MAN. I didn't realise that until he mentioned it and I realised he was right.
I see him as I want to heal that part of me that hates and fears men. The fifty minutes flew by and I was surprised at to how fast the time had gone.
He asked me what had been happening to me since we last met. I said I had re started my EBay business and I was enjoying it. That I had been through the 23rd anniversary of Lsurens death and had just kept to myself the whole day.
I can't expect others to imagine how I feel on that day. And I had warned the kids to just let me be by myself. It was better.
Some of the myths he destroyed for me was what I had always believed. I may have had a childhood that I considered happy but it wasn't. Despite the fact that I had always told myself it was happy. I had a Mother suffering a mental illness. We had moved countries when I was 2, the youngest at that stage of a family of 5 siblings. We had lived in a hostel for 2 years which was not a pleasant experience.
And then moved twice in Port Augusta, the final time to our own house from a housing commission home. My parents had been keen members of the Presbyterian Church. I had been put up to Grade One from prep half way during my first year at school. My siblings were confident children. But I had been born shy and unconfident.
Then Jamie died and life as we knew it changed forever. Forever after that I was telling boys to go away. We beagn moving around and each move terrified me. Starting at 17 different schools. The bills would mount up and we would move.
And so many secrets to hide. Mum's illness, our debts, Dad avoiding creditors. I may have felt loved by my Dad but never by my Mum. She was brittle and indifferent. Dad alone seemed to carry the burden if the family and he struggled, though you would never know it.
The therapist told he my life was insecure. Ther was never enough money, we wore old clothes and hand me downs. We were mind boggingly poor. And bright, that didn't make us popular. We were told to be the best. And more than anything, we were not to talk if Jamie as it might upset our highly strung Mother.
We had no say, no power, we just had to move and fast. We couldn't keep friends. And we kept our secrets. At five I thought very one was mistaken and that Jamie was not dead but merely asleep.
And from that time I started pushing males away. Did I equate them with heartbreak.? Probably.
My Dad was such a big figure in my life. I hero worshipped him. He was everything. And the therapist said I have to stop looking for my Dad. The all powerful, all loving, my protector, confidante. My Dad was flawed too. He was a small time con man, he was a pathological liar. But I adored him and saw no wrong in him.
I had my second visit to my therapist. I dressed up and as I did I realised I was very nervous. When I mentioned that to him he said it was probably because he was a MAN. I didn't realise that until he mentioned it and I realised he was right.
I see him as I want to heal that part of me that hates and fears men. The fifty minutes flew by and I was surprised at to how fast the time had gone.
He asked me what had been happening to me since we last met. I said I had re started my EBay business and I was enjoying it. That I had been through the 23rd anniversary of Lsurens death and had just kept to myself the whole day.
I can't expect others to imagine how I feel on that day. And I had warned the kids to just let me be by myself. It was better.
Some of the myths he destroyed for me was what I had always believed. I may have had a childhood that I considered happy but it wasn't. Despite the fact that I had always told myself it was happy. I had a Mother suffering a mental illness. We had moved countries when I was 2, the youngest at that stage of a family of 5 siblings. We had lived in a hostel for 2 years which was not a pleasant experience.
And then moved twice in Port Augusta, the final time to our own house from a housing commission home. My parents had been keen members of the Presbyterian Church. I had been put up to Grade One from prep half way during my first year at school. My siblings were confident children. But I had been born shy and unconfident.
Then Jamie died and life as we knew it changed forever. Forever after that I was telling boys to go away. We beagn moving around and each move terrified me. Starting at 17 different schools. The bills would mount up and we would move.
And so many secrets to hide. Mum's illness, our debts, Dad avoiding creditors. I may have felt loved by my Dad but never by my Mum. She was brittle and indifferent. Dad alone seemed to carry the burden if the family and he struggled, though you would never know it.
The therapist told he my life was insecure. Ther was never enough money, we wore old clothes and hand me downs. We were mind boggingly poor. And bright, that didn't make us popular. We were told to be the best. And more than anything, we were not to talk if Jamie as it might upset our highly strung Mother.
We had no say, no power, we just had to move and fast. We couldn't keep friends. And we kept our secrets. At five I thought very one was mistaken and that Jamie was not dead but merely asleep.
And from that time I started pushing males away. Did I equate them with heartbreak.? Probably.
My Dad was such a big figure in my life. I hero worshipped him. He was everything. And the therapist said I have to stop looking for my Dad. The all powerful, all loving, my protector, confidante. My Dad was flawed too. He was a small time con man, he was a pathological liar. But I adored him and saw no wrong in him.
