Saturday, November 12, 2005

Unspeakable

I remember playing in the sandbox in my backyard, I was building a sand castle for My Little Pony! I remember my mother coming outside and leaving. She left me with him, alone for almost the entire day.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. Some days, it feels as if it really was yesterday. Memories are starting to surface more and more now, memories that I had buried in my mind so I could wake up every day and survive.

It is going to be incredibly difficult to share these memories, to verbalize them, to make them real.

Ever since I shared my memory, I have been in a pattern of resistance. Fighting the process, fighting the trust in my counselor; not wanting to talk or share on any kind of level. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, the resistance. I am trying to understand the reason behind it, trying to remove the block that is causing it. I think it is because of the vulnerability I felt while sharing and then being left alone with the after effects, my inner critic kicking my proverbial ass.

I'm also very scared. The intimate conversation, the vulnerability, it is all so very scary. I need to reassure myself that it's OK to be vulnerable, it's OK to share, it's OK to be scared.

I need to convince myself that everything that has happened to me does not define me. It is not who I am.

I need to continue to get this poison out before it destroys me.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing your story. I read this very often and you are a great source of encouragement to me.

Anonymous said...

I have learned over time that beyond the inner critic was another voice that was trying to speak to me. It is my voice that wants to tell me that what happened to me is an injustice, it was not right, it was not fair, it was not my fault, and I am angry about what has happened. It battles with the "inner critic" voice. I believe this is the source of conflict and why we can't just let these memories go and lay them to rest - that real voice of truth will not let us rest until we hear what it has to say. Only then will it let us work to heal. I learned to stop and listen to what my real voice has to say. It was tough, because I have to get past the inner critic and all the emotions and confusion and everything else to get to it, but it's there. You just have to find it.