By this time, I had deteriorated physically. So when I was offered an explanation for my depression and problems, I lunged at it. They know how to use their power of suggestion to cause us to commit more serious sins than we would otherwise commit. He had made sexual advances toward one of her sexiest alters, and I was convinced he was infatuated with her. I began to attend meetings at least once a week, all the while sinking into greater and greater turmoil; I also avidly read all the then current books by the various people such as Whitfield, Bradshaw, etc. I was led to believe that I was physically, sexually, emotionally and ritually abused by both my parents, a grandfather, several other family members, doctors, pastors, police officers, family friends, and almost anyone you can think of. I have lost so much in terms of self-esteem and confidence. I understand why they would be angry, and I think they have a right to their anger. There is a story about a little boy having a demon in the Bible.
There is something wrong with "methodology" or "services rendered" if an unsuspecting client comes in with a little headache and goes out with no arms or legs This is not a trivial topic. Here is my story. It is a dilemma. You see, Beth, the only way you will ever be a mentally healthy person is to recover these memories and deal with them. Keep texting you everyday. I hope so much that telling my story will save at least one child-parent relationship. I only wish that I realized then what I know now, that Psychological testing is not a proof of history. I thought it was all true, and I felt worthless and betrayed. A while ago I got information from you for an essay I was doing on false memories in relation to my experience. I would have given my life to be her daughter. The obsession with memories based on incorrect information that is fostered by your book is profoundly harmful. He had created such a sick dependency that I thought I had to let him know my every move. I trusted my counselor. It was easier to blame my mother than to accept responsibility for my unhappiness. Instead of wanting to understand them more, we want to make our self-inflicted ego-inflicted pain go away. My therapist interpreted her defensiveness as further proof that my mother had abused me. My mother died in January, and I never had a chance to tell her how sorry I was. Everyone of us in the support group were in some way in love with our psychologist. I am both a falsely accused parent and a retractor. I weighed 87 pounds, was on medication, and hated life. Fantasy or reality, it is unnerving. There was never another meeting. So why are similar methods tolerated in the professional mental health community? I never told anyone my memories had been false. My plan was to get away from my parents and never see them again.
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