Do Not Underestimate the Combination of Persistence & Strength

The river does not cut through the mountain solely because of its strength, 

but also because of its persistence. 

This is not the correct phrase. Usually, the phrase disregards the strength in exchange for persistence. I tend to disagree about them being mutually exclusive.

I have breathed oxygen with my own mouth and lungs for a bit over 36 years now. And I can honestly tell you that I cannot recall a time in my life that I did not have to be afraid. If there was a time, my mind has removed that memory from me. But as far as my mind knows, I have lived almost my entire life in fear, in flight. I have a small handful of good memories. And at the moment I'm actually diving into ones I have tried to avoid for years.

So, it's been a challenge. But at the same time, I have suddenly discovered something I never had before - - - freedom.

I FB stalked my cousin. The one who left the most profound dark mark on me. He took advantage of a young child and made her feel like she had an obligation to allow him to touch her in ways no one ever has before. It was horrifying. As a child. As an adult. I took those darknesses and boxed them up tighter than I ever knew. But after my first phase of EMDR therapy, I can honestly say I feel like I am in an alien place.

I have never thought of this person's face without disgust or shame. For him, for what happened, and towards myself. But some of that thinking was way wrong. I was just a little girl. A child. It was NOT my fault. I was not at fault for some sick person using me for their sick personal gain. It was not my fault for being a child, and not knowing how to respond to such an attack on my personal and private self.

I had not realized how much I still carried self-blame for what happened to me. But when I opened the box, out came all this self-hate and blame. And I had to process that. I had to face it and re-dictate my inner dialogue.

And it has been so hard. I saw this phrase about a river cutting through a mountain, not because of its strength, but because of its persistence. It bothered me a little. Because I think the strength of that river is underestimated. Sure maybe on the surface, it looks cool and calm, but underneath it's raging, cutting rocks, moving soil, changing the landscape. And that takes strength. Not to mention the fact that the current could sweep you away in a moment.

So, I am in a strange place right now. Strange in the sense that I feel things I never felt before, like real joy and peace. Then I become worried about my vulnerability. I feel exposed. Unsafe. Unprotected. But each time I take a step forward I am met with loving hands and caring hearts. It's strange to say that it's weird to feel genuine joy. Sustained genuine joy even!

And, if I'm being honest, I'm not entirely convinced yet that it is sustained. I've been up and down this coaster all my life. And the dips just keep getting deeper and darker. I don't want to ride it forever, but I am not entirely convinced yet that it's possible to get off this ride.

But, if it is any consolation...I am hopeful. It's my only thread. The one that keeps me going. That little teeny thread of hope...

that one of these days I will be free from my past completely.

Opening Pandora's Box

 

   I have been unwrapping my tightly closed box of trauma for the past couple months.

   And it's been ugly.

     I've been ugly. I have exploded with despair and sabotaged relationships. I have hurt people I really love. I have gone nuclear.

     But...
     I crumbled.
     I'm 36 years old. I've been battling depression and anxiety since I have a memory in my mind. I grew up encouraged to not have feelings, or if you do, box that shit up. I grew up feeling like a burden, unloved, unsafe... Almost all of my memories are traumatic ones.

     And while all these things have come to a culmination and defined me as a human person, I have to let parts of me go, change, so I can move on from this roller coaster.

     I have not enjoyed the journey of shedding it from my soul. It's been mother effing hard. I have been to parts of darkness that I have never been to before. Made plans and had ideas that I never had before. I crumbled under the weight of it all. None of my tools were working anymore. My box was too full. I lost it.
      And then after that, I sought help, only to face the reality that if I am to ever really truly "get better", to really truly change things, I have to reprogram the way I perceive reality. I have to change my filters. I have to silence my inner demons. And it has not been easy.

     I can say though, now at this moment in time, I have successfully been guided by an amazing professional through one journey to slay a demon of my past. One that surprisingly had more control over me than I realized. And since I have slayed that demon, I have found a new capacity to open my heart to the people around me. The people who sit in the trenches with me while I lose my shit, and hold me until I'm me again. I have found an emotional freedom that I have not really ever felt before. It's new, and almost scary. But not in a bad way. Change requires getting used to. And this change was required for survival.

     And today I dove into trauma number two. My most perplexing one. But I am ever so grateful for people as talented and skilled as my therapist. She has delicately guided me through my darkness and I'm actually finding light. For the first time in a long long time....

I feel
joy.

Small but Mighty

I'm about to disclose something pretty profound. It is my hope that my story brings someone comfort. And perhaps too, in a small selfish way, I also have something created eternally reminding me that I can live.

Small but mighty. This little pill. Avoided for years because of fear. What would it mean? I'm weak? I'm broken? What would people think of me?

I'm going to be honest with you, and it's not easy. I have had suicidal ideation. I have battled anxiety and depression at intensifying degrees since I have a memory to recall. When I was 16 years old I sat, slumped in my small attic bedroom. There on my bed, surrounded by magazine cutouts and photo printed selfies, I held a full bottle of Tylenol PM in my hands. I had every intention of ingesting the whole bottle. But I was afraid. So, I called for help and made a different choice.

Fast forward to another time. My struggles haven't changed but my ability to cope and control it has. I lost myself. I lost my fear.

That, in and of itself was what really scared me. But I held on. My child needed me, loved me, no matter how awful I thought I was. He loved me. Without condition. And I could not break his heart like that. I had to figure out how to want to be alive. To feel something other than complete unexplainable despair. I had to. For him.

So, I tried something new. It was a journey and not always pleasant but, I found something that helps my brain function better emotionally.

Trauma reconstructs the brain. There is research to support that. This little pill has changed my life. It's helped give me the ability to crawl out of the darkness. It has given me my hope back. This little pill keeps me from wanting to die.

Let me tell you this. If you are conflicted about trying medication to help you find your way out of the darkness, just try it. What have you got to lose? I avoided it for so long. I worried what people might think. I worried that it meant I was weak. But if a person breaks their leg they need a cast to help support it while it heals. That is the same here.

My little soldier helps me fight. And I am so glad I gave it a chance.