I just had a moment. A moment where I was triggered and it truly hit me how much my father enabled the emotional abuse.
I cannot recall any specifics. Right now there is this weight pressing down on my chest. Tears have started welling in my eyes…and yet they are being fought back down. I have not chosen to press them down, and yet that is what is happening.
It was the strangest thing that triggered this moment. This emotional flashback. This moment of loneliness and pain and heartache. This feeling that I will never be whole. That I can never be whole. That I am blank.
I have vague recollections of writing in a luminous green frisbee when I was a kid that I hate my mom. I hate dad. My parents found it when I was away at camp and I was shipped off to a therapist. Sadly, I don’t think that this therapist was actually that great. She certainly never managed to penetrate that wall of solitude that I had built up. My formidable fortress to try and keep out the pain.
Ironically I think those walls are so thick and that very little can escape, but these walls are cracking. I will manage to break them down.
But I digress, the strange thing that triggered this flashback was seeing the word perspective in a computer game. I have played this game plenty of times before but perhaps this time the planets were in just the right alignment.
I was back in my room as a kid. Where my dad was telling me that I should see things from my mom’s perspective. That I was behaving in such a way that caused my mom to hurt me and treat the way she did.
I have cognitively recognized that my father enabled my mother to abuse me before hand. But tonight, for this first time it was real. Real and raw.