9/21/22
Welcome Wonderful!
How are you doing today?
What was something this past week that gave your heart a reason to smile? What did it mean for you? (I’m listening . . . if you want, you can tell us in the comment section at the end of the post, below the video.
For one of mine, I was at my most loved park vegetating on my favorite bench, which is about six feet from a beautiful river, when a butterfly flitted up from the other side of the railing. Looked like it was rising up out of the water. It reminded me of the myth about a phoenix rising out of the ashes; it lifted my heart and hope.
It’s weird, but one of the mysteries of healing from trauma is how when a person makes a significant step forward, afterward there can be a ‘shame spiral’ (as some describe it). It’s where survivors feel as if we must’ve done something horribly wrong by being honest, or don’t deserve the accomplishment, so we grapple with a deep sense of shame even though THAT’S what we don’t deserve. It’s hard to explain to non-survivors but if you bring it up to other trauma over-comers they immediately get what you’re saying.
The first part of the post from last week was about the success of an event I spoke at, and how everyone who gave speeches or a demonstration did such a great job. I felt pretty good about my own contribution knowing I did a lot to prepare, but it was definitely God who caused the talks to be presented with some confidence and awareness of what was going on around me. In the past I usually just focused on the typed words, too ashamed I suppose to look up and acknowledge anyone who was watching and listening as I stripped my (seemingly) infected heart and soul bare.
This past week or so has been about battling the stigma in my mind. Didn’t go to church the day after because I didn’t want to face anyone who may have gone to the event, even though they had nothing but positive to say at the time. Spent a part of another day vomiting (not forced), which was something that happened as a child when I couldn’t handle what I was surviving. There was also my go-to dysfunctional panacea of overeating to bury the feelings (which contributed to the previously mentioned issue, I’m sure).
(I’m just keep impressing you more and more all the time, don’t I????) (Ahem)
There’s hope though because I have faith that as I do more of this the shame hangover will lessen and eventually become a thing of the past.
Had a beautiful, amazing, healing revelation when I was doing a meditative exercise for an on-line class I’m taking, but that’ll probably be next week’s post – when I’ve been able to process and revel in it like it (and I!) deserve.
Today it’s been a migraine, and thank God the ones I get now-a-days are nothing like those of the past! They’re milder headaches and nausea, with bright flashing lights in the peripheral of my vision. Tried to go for a walk but the bright sunlight made the symptoms worse so it didn’t last long.
The headache was probably more caused by having someone come to the house to take samples of the insulation in the attic to test for asbestos. I thought it would be one guy, but when he called and said, ‘we’re on the way’ it was an ‘oh crap’ moment. 🙂
The guys were professional in demeanor but the way they took the samples left me wondering if that was an indication of how they’d do the larger job. That wouldn’t be a good thing.
Already had a strained neck from working out the day before so it didn’t take much more tension to cause the headache. It’s fading now and I do believe the shame spiral is conquered, Hallelujah!
Last week’s post had the first part of the talk I gave at the event mentioned above. This is the next part:
The way I was trafficked is actually the norm. Less that 10% of all trafficking victims are kidnapped, which means over 90% know their pimp with family being the most frequent perpetrators. Faux “Friends”, whether in person or those met online come in second. And by the way, over 60% of traffickers are females – whether a mother or other relative, or perhaps ‘cool’ girls who know how to manipulate insecure girls. And the majority of perpetrators do not, in fact, have a scarlet ‘P’ tattooed on their forehead to announce themselves. Most of them are people you would never suspect, who hide behind a veneer of decency. I call these people the ‘swells’. So if I ever call you ‘swell’, you may want to duck or run away, quickly! 🙂 That’s just a friendly warning . . . (your welcome!)
But I’ll get more into what ‘swell’ perpetrators act like in the next talk on predatory groomers.
The effects from what I survived are many. When trauma happens to a child before their brain is fully developed it alters how the brain forms. (But that does NOT mean we’re stupid or less than anyone else! We’re just different, and that’s not something to be ashamed of.) And the more frequent, and/or longer lasting the abuses, the deeper the wounds imbed themselves into the psyche, heart, and body. I don’t have the time to go into all the ways I’ve been affected by what happened, but some of them are: Complex PTSD, Dissociative Identity Disorder (which I call being splintered), and for many years my feelings were frozen, and as they’re thawing it can be quite overwhelming and confusing with so many types of pent up emotions trying to express themselves, sometimes simultaneously.
My sense of self, and self worth were annihilated, which left me sabotaging most decent things in my life, especially relationships. I married (and divorced – hallelujah!) an abuser because that’s what I thought I deserved. I’m also recovering from an ‘attachment’ disorder wherein if anybody started getting close to my heart, and it doesn’t matter how safe I believe them to be, one of the splinters of my psyche (usually the angry one, Michael) would take over and do something sabotaging to push them away since it was the people I loved and was supposed to have been able to trust who did the deepest emotional and psychological wounding.
I’ve come a loooong way after years of working on healing with God, many different types of therapies and therapeutic settings, and intentional work on my part on a daily basis but this journey is not, and may never be complete. That’s up to God; I’ll continue to do my part (imperfectly and at times kicking and screaming) and allow Him to do His; the end result is up to Him.
Over time many other bits and pieces of memories whether visual, aural, emotional or physical, emerge and help to put some of the pieces of the puzzle of truth together. It helps in setting me free from the tyranny of living a life controlled by the pain, terror, horror, shame, guilt, anger, and confusion that’s been buried in the subconscious. I may never get all the memories back, but each time I do it’s hell to re-experience again, but it also gives me the opportunity to work through and heal in ever increasing depth.
This certainly isn’t an easy process and I’ll be honest with you, healing is sometimes a so very deeply pain filled, confusing, horrifying and arduous journey but I say, and it’s the same for everyone of you, I am worth the effort it takes to heal.
To be learning in blessedly deepening ways that I am worthy of receiving and giving love, and to FEEL love, even if there’s yet a thinning screen that keeps me from fully receiving and reveling in it, and even though it scares me and in some circumstances still causes me to run, is a gift I treasure and pray to never take for granted. And one day verrry soon, as I keep picking myself up and trying again, then love in all its forms will be something I run towards, instead of away from.
To be continued next week . . .
I wanted the song to be “Something To Hold Onto” by Trevor Rabin just ‘cuz I’ve always loved it, but can’t find a good live video. So instead I found (and love) ’Happy Dance’ by Mercy Me. Never saw it and not sure I’ve even heard the song before. It made me grin almost immediately – I dare you to watch it without smiling! 🙂 (For whatever reason, it takes a minute or two to become visible!)
