(Mon., Oct. 26, 2020.)
I just returned home from Onsite Workshops in Tennessee. Onsite is a beautiful, safe place where some of the best therapists in the country go to lead various programs that help people improve their quality of life and/or relationships. They offer six day workshops with different themes, four day individual or couple intensives, and a 30 – 90 day residential program called Milestones. They have online classes, too. I’ve been blessed to have participated in all four types of programs including several different workshops. It’s always been a powerful experience. Miracles can happen if people are ready and able to work for them.
This last week’s session was called ‘Healing Trauma’. At the beginning of August I went to ‘Healthy Love and Relationships’ and an individual intensive. To be honest, that’s a lot of work for one psyche and I’ll probably be processing it all for quite some time. What occurs at Onsite does not necessarily result in an immediate, complete fix but it can get to the core of the most debilitating trauma wounds while pushing a person forward on their journey towards emotional healing and wholeness.
During this last workshop one of the participants mentioned something that struck a chord with several of us. Instead of saying he was angry with how his wife treated him, he made a comment about how angry he was with his wife’s rapist for changing how she reacted to him and life. He actually understood the cause instead of blaming the survivor. He was hailed as a hero by those of us who have lived through various types of human induced hell. His words opened up the door to express something that survivors know only too well.
(Before I start ranting I want to acknowledge there are many people who are empathetic, and they are greatly appreciated.)
Sometimes I get so damn tired of apologizing for what other people did to me. Perpetrators frequently get off scot-free because they are so adept at grooming not only the children they prey upon, but the family of the child and the public at large. They act out their ‘I’m-so-swell-you’d-never-guess-my-true-intentions’ role so convincingly that others may never question why children’s personalities are ‘altered’ while living with or spending time with the abusers. Then the unnoticed traumatized children can grow up to become wounded adults who are frequently considered inferior for having the audacity to be ‘different’ . . .
And yes, I am aware I am ‘different’. I KNOW I can overreact, under-react, and in some cases turn away when I feel overwhelmed or scared. I KNOW simple decisions and actions that are obvious to others can go through a trauma created filtering process in my mind that leaves me questioning damn near everything people (self included) say and do. I KNOW I can be hyper-vigilant and jumpy at times. I could very well be the person you hear talking to talking to herself in the middle of a store. I KNOW I can repeat myself several times because I don’t always remember what I just said, and can repeatedly ask you the same question because I don’t always remember what you said, either. I KNOW I can get obsessive instead of allowing myself to feel or when I am trying to avoid old memories or emotions that are surfacing. I KNOW it’s the decent people in my life who sometimes end up paying for the sins of others. I don’t feel the love I have for my friends but I know I do love them, even when I am too self -protective and self centered to notice the pain in their eyes so I miss opportunities to reach out to them. I KNOW that until the belief in my heart that still tells me I am unworthy is finally exorcised and/or until I can figure out how to trust someone, I’ll unintentionally alternately pull and push at them out of fear, and I KNOW that isn’t fair to either one of us. And I KNOW none of this is what I want, either, and that’s why I do all I can to heal.
I also KNOW how much energy, time, effort, resources and spirit has been put into healing from all that happened so long ago. I now KNOW I have a beautiful faith in an amazingly loving God, I have a good heart and would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially the vulnerable. I KNOW that I am not like the people who intentionally hurt me and am doing everything possible to make sure I never will be. I KNOW I’ve come a loooong way and am exponentially moving towards being able to love myself and others with the help of God, truly caring professionals, friends and Soul Sisters. And I KNOW that as my voice, faith and ability to love are strengthened, what the perpetrators did and the effects are weakening, and I am better able to encourage other survivors on their journey of learning how to live the fulfilling life they deserve, too.
And with God I KNOW I prevail, and I KNOW you beautiful survivors do, too.
Thank you to Debbie, our heart-led hope giving guide/healer and The Tribe (part two) for the awe-filled experience at the Healing Trauma workshop at Onsite. When I texted my deeply appreciated mates from the Healthy Relationships workshop to tell them I would be attending Healing Trauma, one of them responded with ‘I hope the people you work with are half as amazing as we are’. I replied ‘not possible!’. Well, um, I misspoke. Who knew 100% of the people I would work with over the course of three programs in a ten week period could all be so amazing??? Thank You, God.
This poem was written in my late teens. The despair in it saddens me, as does the knowledge that others can relate to it. Hope comes from KNOWING this is NOT the final say on how the rest of our lives will be lived.
Just As Well (Personal Hell) When she smiles can't you see her eyes, bearing all the scars and lies? You know she can't, day in and day out, yet she still she goes on with out an out. She attacks at the drop of a hat, then purrs like a contented cat. Everyone sees yet no one can tell just what kind of personal hell. Nobody asks so nobody knows, nobody sees and nobody shows 'cuz we're all too guilty so we'll just let her be. We know what happened so we'll just cover up - can't let a drop slip out of the cup! We'll all play blind, blind man's bluff and blow her off, a piece of fluff. After all in all it's just a catch in time, something that's gone with no reason or rhyme. We'll watch it fly by, we'll just let it go. She's trapped in her hell, but do we care? Oh no! "It doesn't matter", now say it again - and sooner or later it'll be in our heads. Stare straight ahead and don't look back, it doesn't matter if she picks up the flack. Nobody asks so nobody knows, Nobody sees and nobody shows 'cuz we're all too guilty so we'll just let her be. Do we care? Oh no, No, NO! We'll all just drop her and then we'll go. Leave her behind, trapped in her shell and that way no one will ever tell. That way no one will ever tell, and soon we'll believe, it's just as well. c. Pearl E.M.
Meet you here on Wednesday? I hope so!
