Hello, I'm new to the forum as a member... But like so many others I've been lurking for a long time before having the courage to post. I'm a pretty resilient person- over the years, I've been able to talk myself into pretty much anything in order to sustain myself so long. Sometimes, though, it all comes crashing down (you guys know how the traumas can catch up with you.) A little bit of vague back story:
My biggest dream in life is being a psychotherapist. I've been wanting this since the time I was pre-pubescent. For that reason, I'm aware of the brain, and the stages, and all that jazz... I love it. I love human nature, and the brain. I love the way we can endure anything.
I've been seeing my therapist for the past year and a half. My father is bipolar, and I'm going through all my PTSD stuff. (My therapist has experience with that, but he specializes in marriage disputes these days, for the most part.) He's older, and tends to treat me like a little apprentice. I KNOW he really likes me. After so long, he's finally penetrated that truth. I know what it feels like to be the favorite patient... He's like my mentor now. (Of course we all have our bad attachment days, and I'm sure I'll come crying back here with the whole, 'Oh God, he's going to abandon me' freak out.)
All that to say I wrote him an email last night... I'm posting it here, because I need to feel like I'm not alone right now. I need something other than my own voice. I'm sorry for the length of this first post... Please, let me know that you understand. Here goes:

Dear Mr. _________
A few questions- is any kind of Love worth it, if I couldn't have the initial, unconditional kind? is any kind of Life worth it, if i'll always be in mourning? I could ask myself, but I'm asking you because you've been around longer and I trust you.
There is a natural order to everything in wild life, and factories and everything else. If an animal is born a runt, it just can't function the way it needs to in order to protect itself and it dies. If a cup is defected (it happens), I won't be pouring coffee in it. Humans are the only things in the world that try to resist fate, because they place so much attachment into things. I'm feeling suicidal today. I'm defected and useless and I want to just toss myself away. I don't belong anywhere if I didn't belong here, do you know what I mean? Seems silly, because it all comes down to that basic need of a father's love. Feels like nothing else is worth anything if I don't have that, and that I'm not worth anything if I don't have that, so what's the point? So I can just keep starving well into adult years? It only gets more pathetic. I'm waiting for something that's never going to come, and can never be filled or replaced or removed or repaired. I feel like nothing belongs to me, not one thing. I feel like everyone's arms are already full. I feel like I missed the last ship. Nobody can love me, if I couldn't be loved like that.
But I'm waiting, because this has to be a faze or a bad day. I remember being happy earlier this week, from the inside out. I was lying on my bed, thinking about poems, getting excited about everything I would ever choose to experience. I wanted to stay awake longer, just to imagine more wonderful things. I was thinking, 'I will never forget this feeling.' I was excited about all the things I could create. I was thinking about how lucky I was to be born into such a colorful life, and to be able to express it in an artful way if I chose to do so. I wanted to write and sketch and learn the Latin names of flowers.
But I'm wondering which is real, and even if I figure that out, what is the point of either? I tend to think people are beautiful because they are animals that place actual complex and emotion attachments to specific things. They are motivated by something that they DECIDED to be motivated by, consciously or unconsciously... They share all their basic needs with animals, but they can create emotional ties to anything, and dedicate their lives to anything... It just depends on their subjective experience. But I place my value in my father-- or at least I used to. So now I place my value in that empty space, and its killing me. I don't what to do. I was never prepared for this, I wish I had some kind of warning. I really don't know how to move on.
I'm so torn because I KNOW people can get mentally well. I really do believe in all of that. I KNOW any damage can be healed in its own way.
But does that pain ever go away? I have a father and he is alive but he doesn't love me. He didn't die, and he didn't go away but he doesn't love me. He became ill, yes, but he gave up. I wasn't worth it for him, and that's what makes it all so confusing. I'm just so confused by this whole situation. Didn't he know I was a girl like the others, with bones and flesh and even emotions? I thought maybe he had forgotten. Maybe I had forgotten a little too. That's why it was so traumatic when he tried to choke me. Just the way he was looking down at me, and how hard he was squeezing... I just can't wrap my mind around it. I was thinking, 'he's going to kill me, and he's not going to care.' I thought I was dying! So after that, I stopped having father feelings for him.... But that doesn't really change anything. It doesn't take away that hunger. And I always see other girls my age, with that satisfied, well nourished look on their faces. I don't know how to stop suffering on the inside. I feel like a big fool for breathing sometimes, opening my mouth, saying things, as if I'm just a big mistake walking around, trying to live among the real people. Even writing to you makes me want to tear my hair out. Just the fact that you are a father and that you've fathered at one time a girl my age makes me feel like such dirt. It's not you, it's just the feelings I carry around. I feel like I'll never be able to explain it. How terrible it all is. Even if i had a father, one who wasn't ill, would he actually care about me? Would he remember to love me, or would he forget that I was something capable of freezing to death? Would he smile when he was talking sometimes, would he answer me when I called for him? Would I be allowed to hug him or kiss his cheek? I need to know! You always say I'm bright, but I'm not. I'm so slow and confused. I want to understand.
But now that I'm writing this, trying to make sense of everything, I realize that it's just that time of year. It's the anniversary of the whole police/Christopher fiasco, and in a matter of days it will be the anniversary of the choking. I feel a little better knowing this is probably just a reaction thing, and not a full fledge depression coming on... Wish I could press the fast-forward button, to a time when I'm happy and secure and thinking back amusedly about the Saturday night/Sunday morning I couldn't stop crying over the computer, typing a ridiculously long email to my therapist about 'my father doesn't love me'. boo hoo, what a little shit I am today. Thanks for carrying the burden with me. I've just been on my own for so long. I'm so grateful. (and sorry)