The next day I was taken in to see a therapist. To this day I still do not know how I even talked myself into seeing a male therapist. Lynne went with me to every session for the first several months because I refused to be alone with him.
In that first session, he had me draw a picture for him. I wish I had it to post on here but he kept it. It's probably better that way anyway. I drew what the cellar looked like that Ash and I were locked in for 9 months, just before our father killed himself. I didn't tell him what it was though. He studied it for quite some time.
He quickly learned that it took a lot to get me to talk. In the fourth session, he brought out some Barbie dolls and had me show him what had happened to me. After telling Bee that my therapist had me do this, she freaked out. I guess most people are uncomfortable with doing this, but it was very comforting for me because I wouldn't be saying anything out loud.
First we made labels for each of the dolls. I carefully picked out each of my abusers and labeled them accordingly. For several sessions it was completely silent as I made the Barbie's act out the events of my childhood. It was almost like my hands had a mind of there own and I was just sitting back and watching it all unfold. (I now know that I had been co-conscious with one of my alter's.)
There were things I wasn't telling him, though. While I was staying at my aunt's house, her son-in-law had been coming over more often. Most of the time he came over when I was home alone and he would bring his friend. Even though I moved out of my parents house, I was still being sexually abused. I never told my therapist.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment