8/26/26
Welcome back Beautiful/Handsome Hearted Being to part 2 of “Shame Blame Go Away . . . “
Is there something you’ve wanted, and have been working towards for years believing that desire was placed in your heart for a good reason, and have wondered if it’s going to happen?
I certainly have, in several areas of life. God’s been showing me though, if He put it here, He’s gonna follow through on it in His best timing and ways as we work with Him.
The last couple of posts have been about fulfilling the seemingly impossible choice to forgive the people who hurt me the most in childhood: A couple generations of family who were the child sex traffickers, child sexually abusive material creators, sex abusers; and those who protect(ed) them over me. While I have been offloading some of the rage over the years of healing, there’s still a very weighty, stubborn anger that clings, and even claws at times.
It’s a very small seed of faith that’s now sprouting, growing to keep me believing forgiving is becoming obtainable. So through prayer, good spiritual advisors, the help of various videos on healing from CPTSD and PTSD, words from wise friends, and reading my Bible on a daily basis, I’m detecting Jesus’ whispers of hope, direction, unconditional and uncompromising love.
When emerging memories or nightmares that indicate more healing and forgiving are at hand it doesn’t always feel like His love, but I know He’s working through me to offer the strength, wisdom and discernment needed to face what they reveal. He, too, wants me to break all the chains that keep me tethered to the past and ‘them’, since they hinder the love, joy, peace and fun life we all deserve to live.
Recently Jesus took me into a depth of pain I had no idea was still harbored in my psyche and heart. It brought a whole new level of respect for what children who’ve experienced trauma have to endure – the pain, terror, ineffective rage, hopelessness – and still somehow manage to survive in all their vulnerability and helplessness. And how much of that unhealed, inexpressibly heavy burden we carry into adulthood, how it affects all aspects of our lives whether we acknowledge it or not.
Recently, I was strongly triggered after hearing something that brought to mind my mother’s temper tantrums. I ended up with a body memory of childhood stress-induced asthma attacks. Was able to quickly identify it as such and it stopped, but it brought up how smothered, terrified and out of control I felt back then.
Later that night the pain expressed itself fully. The feelings of emotional torment and helpless seething rage ran so deep, wide, and encompassing they became physical. It felt like there was a chasm of desperation and terror ripping apart my gut. Kept wanting to eat anything to bury it but knew I couldn’t if I truly wanted to work through this hell to heal it.
Those old thoughts of suicide started to crawl out from under slimy rocks of denial. But this is what I love so much about God and learning to trust in His timing and Grace: I’ve been wanting to heal from all of this trauma for so damn long and at times have been infuriated with Him for not getting me through this process faster. But what I know and appreciate now is, I never would’ve withstood what came up if I hadn’t had the years of building up a spiritual, emotional and mental fortitude to keep the fantasy of death becoming the only option to escape the hell of it all from overtaking me.
Through the sobbing and at times, numbness I couldn’t think of a friend to call to help integrate what was happening so I called a couple different prayer lines because I couldn’t even pray.
Kept asking God to help identify what the core issues were so this experience wouldn’t be wasted. What He showed me was:
Intense desperation was the at the helm and caused the 7, 8, 10 + year old little Pearl to be lured into a male sibling’s malevolent realm repeatedly. When he’d ask me to go somewhere with him and I’d hesitate, he’d sneeringly say some variation of: “Don’t be such a baby. It won’t happen this time – come on!”
Even though I figured he was probably lying again, I was so damn desperate to believe family could care about me I’d decide to trust him, again, and go with him, again. Then add another layer of self-hatred and shame for being so stupid to fall for his bull shit, again.
That helpless rage and pain had nowhere to go or be expressed so it was exhaustedly repressed to a simmering seethe so I could barely live life. The abusive experiences were forced to be tamped down into an oblivion that controlled me from its subconscious lair.
The repressed emotions have been sabotaging life and relationships, including with self, ever since. I couldn’t feel the desperation that kept me looking for others to save me from all I couldn’t consciously define, and the rage that would push a person away as soon as they’d start to near my heart so I wouldn’t trust them and let them annihilate me yet again. This wasn’t necessarily new information, but the clarity and depth of pain that came with it was.
As mentioned in the last post though, God lines up we’re going to need before we need it; we just don’t always notice. Several of the ways He did this were:
Before finally felling asleep at 6:30 a.m., I made a fb post asking who I could call in the middle of the night to help process emotional memories. After waking up a couple hours later I went to take it down, feeling too vulnerable and wondering how depressing it would be when no one replied. Was surprised to see people had started responding to it, and by the end of the day a wonderful cadre of caring people gave permission to contact them at any time. (Sniffle – thank you, good people.)
In the darkness of pain we sometimes can’t even imagine one person can care. After all, no one was there when we needed them initially, and that’s the era our psyche is stuck in. Creating a list of people and/or numbers to call reminds us we’re no longer abandoned and without recourse; that makes such a difference.
A second way God prepared me was with another image of flying. In this one I was soaring and realizing I needed some sort of anchor to keep me from flailing during storms and gusty winds. I looked over my right shoulder and there was Jesus next to me per usual, only this time He kept getting closer and His body began merging into mine. It was a such a bizarre yet welcomed sense of heft that didn’t weigh me down per se, but was more of a steadfastness I’d never felt before.
Part of this vision’s inference is, as I surrender more of my situation and self to Him, His strength and wisdom are starting to overtake my need to control with my limited awareness and capabilities. He’s giving me the fortitude to delve into the darkest part of this healing process without it crushing me into the pit and staying trapped there. I can safely abide in Him as He works through me.
By no stretch of the imagination does this imply the process is going to be an easy dance though the irises from here on out, but it does mean I can better handle whatever comes up as I let Him do what I can’t.
Thank You, Jesus.
I’m also blessed with several wonderful groups of people and great individuals who’ve turned my personal credo from “I don’t need anyone, God, I just need YOU” into “A good life takes a village of support”. My Zoom writer’s group is unique in that we’d never met before. We come from different backgrounds and are strewn across Canada and the United States, from the west to east coasts. We don’t have much in common other than we respect that each of us have a story inside of us that needs to be released to minister to someone else, and we all have beautiful hearts that make this group a safe place to do it. When we each share our latest, deeply personal excerpt we completely lay our souls bare for the others’ scrutiny and critique. Along with the kindly honest and helpful suggestions on how to improve our submissions, we are consistently immersed in nothing but acceptance, love and compassion.
After this last meeting when I shared about the above ‘helluva healing’ experience, they were gently weeping on my behalf. In shame and guilt I apologized for throwing them into the deep end with me, and they replied: “It’s an honor to walk alongside you on this part of your healing journey”. I never knew how comforting, shame reducing and healing it is to have the emotions I’m struggling to accept and express mirrored back to me with pure love and empathy; it so tenderly lightens and heals the soul. This isn’t necessarily the first time I’ve experienced this depth of acceptance, but it is the first time I’ve been able to receive it to the extent I have.
They also get my sense of humor, which I love. Either when I write a whole vignette or at times just throw a bon mot into the middle of an otherwise intense scene, they actually have to stop to laugh – out loud! I’m usually sitting there, stoically wondering if they’ll ‘get it’ and they always do. That puts quite the giggle in my heart, too.
Thank you, ladies. It is an honor to walk this path with you, as it is with all the groups and good people, men as well as women, God has so graciously led me to. Because of them I’m learning how to live and love for the first time in my life. I’m so geeked to see where this healing they’ve facilitated with God and me is heading. What amazing gifts of Grace they all are.
Yet again, and always, thank You Lord. Amen.