Runaway

How do you ruin a perfectly good mood? You go to EMDR therapy.

Drive...and drive fast. That is all I wanted to do after I left therapy this morning. I wanted to drive fast away from everything and everyone.

I had run away from home when I was fifteen. When I returned (I mean when the police found me), my mother punished me for running away...she didn't know any better.

I just wanted to talk to her and tell her why, but how could she listen? She was so angry. I wanted to tell her that I missed my brother, who had just joined the army. I knew that was all that I could tell her. What I really wanted to say was that I had to leave her husband, and there was no other way that I could find of doing it than by running away. I wanted to say that I had had enough of him, and he was not going to stop unless I left...but how could I say that to her?

He was more gentle. He told me that he understood that I was a teenager and that teenagers go through rough emotional times. However, I should think of my mother. She was very worried and hurt. He was very gentle. I felt like his mistress, his accomplice. That was the time when I really started to hate myself, because I felt like I was old enough to know better. This is where I get stuck when I try to believe that it wasn't my fault.

I'm home alone, and cutting would feel so good. I know that it is the shame that I feel that makes me want to do that. The sensation that I get when I cut would somehow drown the shame and the hate that I feel for myself. "It wasn't my fault", I can write, but how do I believe it? I wasn't my fault when I was ten, but what about when I was fifteen?  I was just another one of his sluts.

So I want to cut again...and punish...and cut hard and deep.

This is not where I want to be. I should probably call somebody.