Posts Tagged ‘therapy’

I finally learned how to be a big sister. My brother came to visit me for three weeks, I have not seen my brother or sister in six months. When I heard he was coming, I was at once excited and doubtful. I’ve never been a proper big sister, never was able to be any sort of good example. Actually, the only good example I was able to give was how to stay on the right track so as to not totally fuck up your life.

When I first heard my brother was coming, I had this momentary insane worry over how should I act around him – like the me he knew, or the me that exists now? Problem was, I don’t really know how to act like a suicidally depressed whore, since I’m not that person anymore. I finally decided to simply go with the flow.

At the airport, I wondered to myself if maybe I shouldn’t smile so much. Maybe I shouldn’t act so excited. And while I waited at the arrival gate, I was overcome and wanted to cry, because this felt like a yet another second change for me. He did a double take when he saw me, jumping up and down and smiling. I don’t think my brother has ever seen me genuinely happy.

I forgot my ridiculous concerns as soon as I saw my brother. On the train to my grandparents house, we apologized to each other – it seems my brother did a lot of evolving and healing when I left, he said the sadness remained when I was gone — I simply made a good scapegoat. He also thanked me for being a fuck up, cause it kept him and my sister from staying down the wrong path as well.

It was a weirdly nice change, watching out for my brother, planning interesting things to do while he was here. I had a weird out of body experience as I would pack my knapsack in the morning with an extra pair of socks, sweatshirt, and gloves for my brother (having just come from the Canadian winter, he didn’t really understand that it is winter here in Israel as well). It happened again when I instictively tried to hold his hand when crossing the road.

Before my brother came over, I had been uncertain of the wisdom of returning to Canada for a few months before permanently returning to Israel. My family also thought I should stay here longer. But my brother changed that. I think it gave my family the ability to see more the change within me. And my brother said that I need to come back. To show my family that change is possible. It’s not enough to see the change through skype.

The last few years I always thought my siblings were invulnerable… I always saw them as having a tough shell, and I was envious of their close relationship, while at the same time, extremely thankful for the bond they have together. Any attempt I tried to made at fixing out relationship would end with their hard stares and monotonous conversation, which would start and end at ‘hi, how are you?’. So I was a bit stunned, when my big tough brother came to visit, and I realized he’s the same person I remember being friends with as a kid. A realization that made me tear up and made me feel even more protective of him.

My brother’s visit helped me. It helped repair our relationship, and made me feel better about potential that the future holds. It also gives me hope to mend things with my sister.

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I think I finally get it. I’m not 100% sure what it is I get. I just know it all finally makes sense.

So my best friend lives out on the other end of the country. I got to talk to him a couple days ago. And got to hear his I told you so.. Not smugly, just pleased. He’s seen me as the person I am now, the person I’m becoming, for about 5 years now. Which in the past would anger me to the point I would completely stop talking to him. Now, I’m just really thankful that there was at least one person who didn’t see me as I was, but as I was meant to me. I know you’re reading this. So huge hugs and thank you 🙂

So ya. Everything makes sense. I cried for the first time in years last week. It was amazing. Like huge sobs wracking my body. In church. And I had strangers hold me and pray for me. It was awesome.

I saw a guy in the mall on the weekend who looks just like J. Who nearly killed me. Instead of running off (which is something I usually do when I see anyone I used to know, may know, or reminds me of someone I knew), I went up to him, introduced myself, and blessed him. And then ran off.

I’m also going overseas in a few weeks. Til the end of October. I’m super excited. I’ll be there for my birthday. So I’m expecting to have an incredible celebration. Which includes not being raped and having to pretend everything’s okay and then pressing and dropping charges.

So since I’m leaving, its given me a chance to rediscover the city I’m in. Which is kinda what prompted the post titled My City. It’s actually a nice place. Which I never really realized before.. I was so focused on getting out, running away, escaping, that it’s beauty completely passed by me.

My friend told me I should document all these changes that have been going on with me. Which is true. But I still have to catch up to all the changes.

I saw my therapist yesterday. And she was floored by how different I look. She stared at me and said You look like you’ve been reborn.

Ya, I have.

My last few therapy sessions have been oddly informative.

I’ve realized I have to not only call a truce between the side of myself that believes in fighting for women’s rights, and the side of me that still believes that all I will ever amount to is a whore… I have to make them get along too.

Ugh.

See, here’s the thing –

I can’t go anywhere outside my bedroom and feel like I belong. Like I am on the same plane as others. I am convinced I am a corrupting influence on others, and that my taint will infect others. Kinda like Lady Macbeth scrubbing her hands clean when there is nothing upon them. Ya, that’s me. Just swap blood for body fluids (TMI, I know).

So my therapist tells me I have a koan to crunch on mentally. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/koan The riddle being, how do I remove the taint? Obviously, logic doesn’t work with this. I’ve scrubbed myself clean in showers and baths, I’ve gotten love and acceptance from other people, I found God, I’ve expressed my hellish past in my writings….

And yet…

Sigh.

I started writing about my first experience as a “pro”. I managed to describe everything up til the actual act. Then I froze. Then I got pissed at myself.

What am I censoring myself from? And whom will judge what I write in the privacy of my own laptop, in my bed? (besides myself)

I guess the truth is that my confidence in my sexuality has taken a major hit in the last several months. And since that is the ONE area of my life I have always always always been confident in… I feel like a part of me is lost. Whether or not this ends up being a good thing remains to be seen. It’s effing weird though.

But I promised my therapist I would bring my “first time” story. Which I guess means I have to complete it within the next week.

Anyways. Back to brooding.

Stay Safe.