I’m going to try group therapy again, and I think this time might be better. The last time I went to group therapy was at my university, and I had no idea why I am the way I am. I had no idea why I felt like a worthless person, why I have no self-esteem, why I seemed to have moments where I wasn’t really there, why I would randomly get nauseous or why I’d have these overwhelming, inexplicable feelings come out of seemingly nowhere when I was otherwise utterly and completely numb. I couldn’t explain the weird dreams or the insomnia or the cause for an ED and self-harm behavior. And so I often remained silent, not sure who (or what) I was. I didn’t relate to the other people in the group, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel worthy of being there. I felt like a waste of space, which perpetuated my silence. The group therapists would have to prompt me every single session to say something, and when I would, it never felt good. It never felt like a relief. I didn’t get those “aha” moments where I no longer felt alone or where I could finally see that my experiences were not unique.
So I was hesitant at first when my T first suggested a local therapy group for CSA and assault survivors. She’s been wanting me to find a group for a long, long time. We have discussed my fear that her eagerness to get me into a group is just because she wants to kick me out and not have to be burdened with me, and she’s attempted to reassure me that she doesn’t want me out, but I am not completely convinced. Part of me thinks that it was a rouse and that, when I tell her on Wednesday that I have a meeting with the group T next Monday, the whole truth will be revealed.
I kept forgetting to call the group T, but I finally called her late last week and spoke to her yesterday when she called me back. She was very nice and reassuring and was quick to offer a do-able solution to my limited schedule. When I told her about my previous experience with groups and how I tend to be quieter, she was very understanding and told me that it was fine if I was comfortable with not speaking and that it’s not the type of group where everyone is forced to speak every week. She told me some about how the group will work and told me to think about any questions I might have and bring them in on Monday when I meet her for a screening for the group.
In the meantime, I’m counting down the days and hours until I see my T. I am devastated after a conversation with my mother regarding my decision with my father. She kept insisting that I give her details about what he did that warrants such a drastic decision, and when I froze up and couldn’t get any words out, she just kept confronting me over and over. I completely broke down and told her just about the verbal stuff that he’s done, but I hate myself for saying anything at all and for breaking down in front of her. I hate that I did that. I just couldn’t hold it together, though. She told me that I took the easy way out and said that, as a Christian, I should attempt to forgive him. She said she resents that I left her hanging out to dry. We ended the conversation cordially, but I can’t forget everything she said. It really hurt, and I keep wondering if she’s right. It’s so hard to feel like I’m doing the “right” thing when it hurts other people. But it’s even harder when I stand by my decision, part of me knowing it’s the right one, because then I’m left wondering if it only feels like the right decision because I’m a horrible, apathetic person.