Today I learned a lot from Lauren. She is my therapist:
I had stayed too long in a social situation and on the way home I became suicidal along with the uncomfortable robot feeling. She said I’m not used to having feelings and somehow there is guilt attached to missed nurturing. Somehow I feel it was my fault that I was abused and neglected. She also said I have a lot of courage. The opposite of what I thought about myself.
I think my Mother taught me that mourning was a waste of time. Just like she put me down for meditating. “Keep busy,” she said.
Among other things, I get these manic constructs. They are so inspiring. When I try to write them down I never succeed. Indeed, I can’t even remember them. Maybe Abilify is the culprit. I had one right after (during?) a dream. The contents of the dream really didn’t exist. I had to tell myself that. Post Graduate Center for Mental Health rescued me. She called the psychologist at St. Lukes and demanded that they release my record.
In the distant past the same place let me down terribly, or lets say one of their psychiatrists did. I was distraught about an abortion I had. Why didn’t Dimitri understand that. Instead, he treated me as though I was a Narcissist and encouraged me to have two more abortions, saying, “now you would have had six children.” Horrible, and then he admitted that he misunderstood me. Just a typical example of professionals pushing abortions, especially on marginal women. My main problem was that I trusted everybody, thinking they had my best interests at heart.

I know I’ve been forgiven for the abortions, but it doesn’t take away the sadness. All but one were necessary for some reason, but that doesn’t take away the pain. In fact it increases it because of the bad judgement implied. When I was pregnant, after my ill fated abortion, Joe wrote me a very good letter. He said, “Without consulting me, you went ahead and got an abortion.” He also said I do have a color problem. That decision condemned me to a loveless marriage and a daughter with a serious heart defect. I was never happy again. Instead of being affectionate, I mistreated the children I did have. In spite of it, I loved my children very much and stood by them until they were grown.

I had the perfect chance to see a decent Psychiatrist and I didn’t take it.
Another example of not advocating for myself. So I became psychotic. Maybe it could have been prevented. A psychology professor at City College said I am completely insane.

I suddenly thought of Julia Schneider, my first psychiatrist in New York City and for a moment, I hysterically cried. She steered me all wrong, just when I needed a wise leader. She practically ruined my young life. There were some good ideas, like School of Visual Arts, but I should not have introduced Leon to Andy, who tried repeatedly to hit him with a toy hammer. Julie intimidated me so much. As a good psychiatrist, she should have realized that was precisely my problem. She yelled at me about the man who rescued me at my son’s birth. She said, “You look upon him like a knight in shining armor.” Of course I did. Well anyway, being afraid of marriage, I rejected him. Then I went on to be with an abusive man who made me pregnant and demanded I get an abortion. That set the stage for the other ones.