You Are No Good

You Are the Worth of a Slave

You Are For Other People’s Pleasure

 

 I am a mother and a wife.

I am no good!

I live with my pain.   It cost too much to…

 

My guidelines or rules set in the home are a conflict to schedules.

My plains are a conflict to schedules.   Others’ must be worked around.   It will work.

My time with my husband is only to discuss the things he wants.

My time with my husband must fit their, anyone’s schedules,

 and be interrupted or canceled at any time.

My bedroom is our bedroom.

My privacy is subject to others pleasure and desire.

My purpose in life is to be, to please others.

My worth is insignificant.

My desires are unimportant.

I am good for complaining to, yelling at, and taking from.

My worth is someone’s present desires or demands.

My belongings are anyone’s property for them to do with and leave any anywhere at any time.

It doesn’t matter what I want, fear or need;

            Life Is Others

—————————————————————————————————-

The following is written in large cursive letters over the words above:

Who cares about me?

To whom do I have worth?

Who cares about me?

Why am I always supposed to give up me?

 

—————————————  Mid 1993  ———————————————-

The following is written in large cursive letters at a diagonal slant across the next page:

Love Hates You.

Love Turns It’s Back On You

You are unimportant.

You are to serve them.

I am selfish for I want more out of life.

Hurt and disappointment are my friends;

I can trust them to be there.

This must be what joy is.

 

——————————————  1993  ————————————————

I’m not supposed to get food that is healthy for us.  (I’m told) It costs too much.

We go to bed and get up at separate times.   If he does get close to me he wants sex.   Where is encouragement, support, expressions of love, and gratefulness without motive?   I live in fear when he is around.   What does he want or expect?   When and how will he expect it, and will he change is mind?   He doesn’t talk to me but I’m expected to communicate to him activities or schedules and then he doesn’t listen.   I find myself not wanting to listen to him at times and I’m trusting and believing him less and less.   I used to trust him to fulfill his word.   Through the years he has changed.  All of us know that when he says he will something concerning the family not to trust him or expect it.   He either won’t do it or will be hours late.   His schedules are important.  His wants are important.   If it is my want or my schedule it doesn’t count.   If there is some type of involvement concerning it, he somehow finds something or some way to blame me or subtly accuse me.

Harold started teaching the children a long time ago that my schedules and my desires or expectations were not important.   I remember a time when he would comment to me that they obeyed and listened to me and not to him.   I told him why it was happening to try to help him get to that point as well.   Instead, he took that knowledge and used it against me.  I don’t think he did it intentionally, but he did.   If I told them to do something, even if they had plenty of time to complete it, he would tell them they didn’t have to so they could go other places for other things they wanted to or he wanted done.   That hurt for different reasons.   I talked with him many times and was told it was unimportant.   He still tells me I’m unimportant by the way he does things or does not trust me.   I am a convenience for him and this family.   I am here for what they want or don’t want.   It is hard to have joy and purpose.   For many years I gave up and did for them almost all the time.   It didn’t do any good to try to get them to see or understand.   I just want to ignore and cry.   It still hurts.   I try to tell myself I am important to or in Christ, but life is always there and doesn’t let.   It just keeps on saying forget you, ignore you, about you we don’t care, you are unimportant, your wants are inconvenient, your wants are a problem, we don’t like them, don’t want and will fight them.   I am always under attack and not encouraged or responded to in a positive way.   I might get a shrug.   Isn’t that nice.

Journal Entry Photos:

dissociative identity disorder therapy dissociative identity disorder psychotherapy multi personality disorder treatment