graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Facing The Mirror I'm reading this James Frey book, "A Million Little Pieces." I mentioned that after the Oprah bonfire, I decided to read the book in his favor. It's hard. It's hard like watching "Traffic" was hard, and that was really, really hard at parts. I don't want to be egotistical and say it was like a watching a home movie, but there were parts that hit home for me. This book is similar. I want to read it, I've dragged my heels this long, but I find myself stopping every few pages. It just hits too close. I know the drama around the allegedly "ficticious" portions of this "memoir" - I am telling you that it hits too close to home. Maybe he's a very good researcher... I'm at the part when he's just choosing to stay rehab. Someone spoke at group and people laughed at this man's story and Frey learns about becoming vulnerable; that's a huge lesson, I applaud those who've learned it. I haven't. Before I learned how to open up to people, I used to hear screaming in my head at night when I went to bed. It was stress related, but I used to hear my own voice in my head screaming on my very last vocal cord, things that I had to do; things I said that were "stupid" and; thoughts. It would make me toss and turn at night until I could find a way to make it stop. Not that long ago, in the last 5 years. It stopped, that screaming. Thank God. I really thought I was going insane. What I hear now when I am thinking about things or stressed, is the voice of my old therapist. Last year, in the very beginning of our sessions, when she broke it down for me. When I could tolerate her. When I was interested in self exploration with a professional. She said, "You know what I think you are, underneath everything, you're just a scared little girl. Whe you needed to be protected and reassured, the people in charge of protecting and reassuring you let you down. And I feel sorry about that." I f*cking hate that statement. I hate that she thinks that my parents let me down, I hate that I know they did because I also know it wasn't their fault, I hate that she feels sorry for me, I hate that I've told her my darkest, deepest secret. Most of all, I hate that she said that I'm "just a scared little girl" because when I stop to think about it, it terrifies me that she might be right. 4:18 a.m. - 2006-02-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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