Elizabeth

::SCREAMS::

My abusive biodad sent me his annual contact last week (according to this journal, it's been more like semi-annual for the past couple of years: March '13, October '13, February '14, and now October '14), and I talked about it in therapy this week. It went badly.

My usually-great therapist has apparently forgotten all about all the times I have articulated why I don't want to be in contact with him. It's been years(a year and a half, actually, March '13) since she pushed me hard on the "what would be so bad about softening your stance of no contact ever under any circumstances" thing, and this time she actually used the words "devil's advocate", which is making my shoulders come up around my ears because the devil doesn't need advocates and that is the phrase that various abusive misogynists use online and I don't want my therapist to make my abusive biodad's case for him, I want my therapist to support me in making the best decisions I can make for my own safety and sanity.

So yes: I am mad that he keeps goddamn contacting me, I am mad that I keep having to defend this decision about not having a relationship with him, I am mad that it seems impossible to get past this place of "this is what I want and I get to decide that and maybe I'm wrong but I get to be wrong because I am an autonomous adult."

I can live with the thought of being wrong about him. I don't want to live constantly on the defensive — and right now I feel like every time he comes up, I have to armadillo up and be impervious because everyone else is just going to poke at my boundaries, and I am absolutely certain that if I gave in and let him talk to me, I would never ever stop being on guard and tense and wary.

And now I'm tired.