Perceptions and Irrational Thoughts
People have told me I was perceptive since as far back as I can remember. At times, my perceptiveness felt like it was its own entity which I had no control over; it had its own voice in my head. Looking back on it, I mostly perceived negative things, but that was likely caused by all the bad things around me. While growing up, I could usually read a man’s ulterior motives in a matter of seconds. I could also see all of the mistakes my mother was making or about to make and part of me hated her for them.
Age and experience has put me in similar situations at times. One of my therapists from Brookhaven thought I subconsciously put myself in those positions to try to understand how my mother could have been so foolish and to see if I could replicate an experience so I could understand why she did or didn’t do certain things. One thing I have yet to understand is how she could have not known most males I came in contact with as a child were abusing or assaulting me1 and that is still an obstacle in our journey to have a good relationship.
My abusers ranged from cousins, step-cousins, step-uncles, family friends, neighbors, and my step-dad. Most of the abuse was sexual. My then-stepdad, Larry, was the worst culprit. He abused me any and every way he could. I learned to not wonder how much worse it could get. There is an inherent evil man within him. He fooled a lot of people into thinking he could do no wrong, but I know better… oh boy, do I.
Shawna, Larry, and scumsuckers like them can call me a liar all they fucking want, it doesn’t change the facts. Whether anyone believes me or not is not what really matters to me. The part that helps me is coming clean about my entire past, even the parts I don’t want to remember; the parts that make me feel like an outcast, freak, or a living sex toy that doesn’t deserve to be loved by anyone. If I can admit the wrongs I’ve endured, I can overcome them and let them go. I want to move past them so I can have lasting, healthy relationships, romantic as well as non-romantic.
The only significant males2 in my life as a child and teenager that did not abuse or assault me were my maternal grandfather and my father. Despite my father’s absence, he was a powerful force in my life. He was a piece of shit, but I still yearned for his love and approval. Oh man, I’ve repeated that theme for most of my post-pubescent life thus far, but that’s another story altogether.
During the early stages of my treatment for my mental illnesses, I constantly doubted my perceptions because I was learning about irrational thoughts and most of my perceptions could be classified as irrational thoughts. Now, almost five years later, I still struggle to determine the difference sometimes, but I’ve also learned that just because a perception or thought is irrational doesn’t make it any less true in many cases. Shrinks and therapists can disagree with me all they want, but they can’t disregard the fact that most of my perceptions and intuitions, even in the midst of an episode, are dead-on accurate. I still analyze them to determine if they are caused by my own deep-seated fears, but for the most part, I trust them.
On this day..
About BipolarChick (599 posts)
I’m a thirty-something bipolar woman, an advanced tech agent with a pay tv provider, tax preparer for a local charity, current Tulsa inhabitant, and I’m one credit shy of an Associate Degree in Liberal Arts. I’m working on recovery from self-injury and working toward stabilizing my bipolar symptoms. Recovery is very important to me. I’ve been mostly single the past few years and plagued by a seemingly never-ending series of jackasses, assholes, and married men. I have no children of my own, but I have lots of nieces and nephews I love to spoil.