You chose this

Something kind of unnerving has been happening in my sessions. I’m remembering things that I wasn’t consciously aware of before… though I had a shadow of a memory of it all. It’s like knowing something again. It’s hard to explain. A few sessions ago I remembered my mother used to say to me, ‘we choose who our parents are going to be, before we’re born,’ and I remember feeling such a twisted confusion around this. She’d say, ‘you chose me,’ in a tone that sounded almost like delightful gratitude to other people, but it felt threatening to me. ‘You chose this life and you chose me to be your mother…’ I chose this? Why would I choose her? It was my fault before I was even born!?

She didn’t feed me for the first 48 hours of my life, didn’t hold me either. Requested that I be fed only distilled water. For two days and two nights. Mark has been helping me process agonising body memories and what feels like life threatening needs as they gnaw at me from the inside. Birth trauma. Infantile annihilation fears. Complete terror. Dissociation. Grief. Longing. Core shame.

And there’s a new layer that’s peeled back. That maybe she knew what she was doing. That maybe it was deliberate. Mark said, ‘it’s hard to imagine she couldn’t see the pain she was causing, that she didn’t know how wrong it was… I think maybe she did.’ I sobbed lying in the fetal position, head covered in pillows. ‘I’m still here, holding you in this,’ he’d gently whisper.

I’m feeling so in touch with this heavy grief. I remember writing about this before, that grief is grief is grief. The heavy grief I’ve felt over lost relatives is the same as the grief over losing Anna and it’s the same as this grief… what is this grief? Am I grieving the loss of the hope for a happy childhood? Grieving the mother I never had? Am I grieving the realisation that despite all the love I poured into her, she never loved me back? That I still love her… and I loathe her… and I loathe the part of me that loves her… it’s all I can hear in my tear filled head, ‘but I love her so much!’ Am I grieving the part of me that died in childhood to keep her afloat…?

This grief is heavy and keeps blindsiding me.

13 thoughts on “You chose this

    1. Thank you 🤗 it’s been hard going. I emailed Mark yesterday and he replied with support quite late and I didn’t get it too this morning but so glad he did reply. Will have to hold this until my session on Friday. ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Huge hugs if wanted. I/we wrote on Instagram about our similar experiences, and so we will not repeat it here. We hope you have what you need for comfort during these body memories and the agony of grief. You are digging up those trauma roots, abuse roots. Hard labour not everyone understands, yet is so necessary for those of us who walk this journey.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks RB it really does feel huge. Yesterday I was awfully triggered and ended up emailing Mark in desperation because I couldn’t get out of the agonising crying phase. He replied late last night with support and as if by magic I’m back being an adult today at work. It’ll probably crumble again when I’m home. I feel so awful for my kids right now but this really is the best I can do. I want to freeze time and get all this out of me before my kids are grown!! Hard hard work. Hugs back to you x

      Liked by 2 people

  2. I’m so sorry it’s so bloody hard and not of your making. I really think we should be able to bill parents for the therapy we need! Lol. I’m so pleased Mark is as responsive and attuned as he is. It’s impossible to do this deep work without that level of care and holding. X

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Lol yeah I’ve often wished I could send them the bill!! Mmm I was talking to a friend today about how I wish these types of therapists were commonplace and easy to access. It should be standard!

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s