Discarded

I have gotten to a point, I guess, where I can watch what is going on in my head and see where it goes. Which is great.

So I got triggered tonight. Mainly because I miss C. I am trying to support her. It’s not seeming to accomplish anything, but I keep doing the things I am able to do that might be supportive. She is no longer responding, and the picture she posted on her Facebook shows distrust.

Anyway, meanwhile she responded to someone else—another semi-mentor figure in her life that I don’t like and don’t trust. “Inbox needed.” Now, she has blocked me on Messenger. I think she might not remember doing that, and it’s a terrible thing to lose little bits of time when you did things. She can chat with some other person, but not me.

That’s the background.

But I was feeling really bad, and I thought, “I feel discarded. What is going on inside me is the feeling of being discarded.” I just named what it was.

What I thought next had to do with this being at least in part about the past. What I thought was this feeling is from being discarded by my parents. I have been holding things up, side-by-side in my mind. Things in relationships now. Things from my parents. And I thought, whether or not I am being discarded now, which I may not be, it is okay for a 15-year-old girl with a traumatic past to discard me. It is really okay for nearly anyone to be done with me after using me. It’s not nice, but people do that sometimes. Not great, not what I want, but manageable.

It is not okay for my parents to discard me. It was not okay for them to be done with me after using me. I have this feeling inside of what it is like to be discarded, because I have been discarded by people and at a stage of life when no one should have discarded me.

Not everyone’s going to like me or be nice to me. Sometimes people might take advantage of me. I might not always be respected, and sometimes I trust people who hurt me, but I am an adult and the equal of most people who might not treat me well.

But my parents discarded me. My parents. When I was six—or younger, but six comes to mind.

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2 thoughts on “Discarded

  1. desilef January 3, 2017 / 10:19 pm

    Oh, Ash. She may feel discarded too. You know – and rationally she knows – that you had no choice about leaving. But what she feels may be something else… and she may be defending herself against missing you, needing you. This separation demanded by passports and nation-states and rules beyond your control, of course it’s unfair and horrible and hard. The thing is you know your intentions and your commitment and your love. She can only guess.

    • Ashana M January 4, 2017 / 2:21 am

      I am sure this is bringing up intense feelings of being abandoned that she is trying her best to manage and cope with. One thing that is very hard about this process is that the past does not disappear. I have gotten to a point where many times I just label the experience: I feel abandoned, I feel discarded, I feel like an object. Because recognizing that perceptual and feeling state is probably much of the point for my mind–kind of like having a word on the tip of your tongue. Until you remember it, your mind keeps digging around for it. But there is often this moment when something very much like what I wrote about happens, where the side-by-side comparison makes me realize what the past was. In a declarative way, I do know what it was, but there is a feeling piece missing that sometimes gets integrated now, and it feels very startling to me. It feels very startling to me that my parents abandoned me–even when they were physically present, they abandoned their responsibility to protect me–and I had feelings about that.

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