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Three months before Christmas last year, one of my dogs acquired what is referred to a 'doggie aids.' The actual disease is a tick borne illness. He lost over 40 pounds in three months and died a horrible death on Christmas Day. During my dog's protracted illness, I was triggered and had frequent flashbacks and intrusive thoughts and images come to me about my father's abuse. One of the symptoms of the tick borne illness was bleeding. This triggered me the most with disturbing images of my father using knives. I cringed whenever the images bombarded me. After my dog's death, I slipped into a suicidal depression and slowly went down hill. I was not even aware of how bad off I was until I decided it was necessary to see a pdoc. It was the first time in my life to see one. It took three months to see the pdoc during which time I thought I would go off the deep end. My dog's death and how he died reminded me of the abuse and deaths my father forced me to watch. It struck a chord deep within me about the intense emotions I carried inside me. I kept repeating to myself, 'this will be my undoing.' I understood what that meant. I would start to grieve everything which happened to me. Though... I feel stuck in the muck and mire of depression and I hate it. I hate that feeling of not being able to move past this. My therapist asked me to write down my feelings. I thought I had none. Tons emerged. Mostly rage and sadness. I misunderstood his assignment. He wanted me to write down how I felt when a memory emerged. So the next week I tried that and found I could not shut off the memory. Once the door opened up I was forever reliving bits and pieces of the memories and not being able to shut the door again. The feelings kept coming; terrified, overwhelmed, anxious. Those feelings left me depressed again. My assignment this week is to write a grief letter about my mother. Now there's a huge ball of crap to write about. After she died over three years ago, I started to remember more abuse my father perpetrated on me. She was a narcissist and had OCPD. She was anal to the max about many things in her life and therefore my life. My mother had to control everything around her and everyone around, especially me. I was her scapegoat. I don't have to do any of these assignments. However, they would help me heal from my childhood abuse and that is my goal in therapy. I am the one who set that goal, to express my emotions, to deal with the helplessness I feel. It is almost Sunday and I have not even sat down in front of my journal software to write a thing. Half of my week gone and I rotate on it avoiding that assignment. And I am a prolific writer and I journal daily but not since this assignment. Yesterday, I expressed some of the things I learned from my mother with my two granddaughters. This rings a familiar bell though: the ability to express good things about the people who raised me and the inability to express the bad things about those people. I can tell anyone all the horrible things my mother and father did to me BUT... then I am stuck. I cannot express the horrible feelings I have for those people who violated me in so many ways. I am stuck in the depression I hate so much. The only way out is through those yucky feelings.