I used to believe that I was destined to go through many lives before I got it right. I knew I was a bad example of a girl. This memory is from when I was about 22, and I am crying as I write this because I hate myself for still holding on to this idea. Today, after going to therapy, I’m feeling defeated. I feel the same overwhelming sense of being a failure. Back then, I just graduated college, had my first full-time job, lived with a good man (whom I’m still married to) but, even so, I felt like a complete failure. I held on to extreme amounts of fear and shame from the effects of having been sexually abused as a child and I learned to put the blame on myself. My depression and anxiety were over the top and I felt certain I was defective. I believed no one could love someone like me because I was damaged on the inside. I couldn’t express my emotional pain except to internalize it and reason I was a lower form of life that hadn’t evolved.
I felt like a turtle hiding in their shell and I was too frightened to come out, but I knew that normal people don’t feel this way. I hated myself for not being able to give to others what you are supposed to in order to be a good friend or lover. And my need to be alone caused me to feel like a useless human being. I should have been more social and I criticized myself for being such a recluse. The only way I could explain my fear and anxiety was that I was less of a person than others.
I believed in Heaven and reincarnation. When I died and got to Heaven I was certain God would judge me as incomplete and undesirable. I was sure I would be sent back to live another life through reincarnation. And, in my mind, this would not happen just once but more times than I could count. As a young adult, I rationalized that I would have to suffer through this life in order to learn the necessary skills to be a better person in another life but I would suffer through many lives before I got to the perfect life because I was that screwed up. I didn’t see any hope of things getting better because my internal suffering was so great.
Right now, after a tough therapy session with Lynn, I feel like broken goods. I’m not even sure I have what it takes to put things in the right place to get where I want to be. I’m feeling those same old words in my head, and they are telling me “not in this lifetime.”
That, my friends, is the twisted thinking of a depressed, sexually abused person.
Stay tuned for my next post which is about what happened in therapy to bring up these old feelings.