Every fall, it's like clock work. At the start of October, I feel a shift within me. I realized the trend in therapy once after telling my therapist, Salley, that I feel like October comes with a dark shadow that effects me in a deeply physical way and it doesn't leave until February. This was the session I learned about body memories and how trauma survivors have physical memories within their body that can effect them for life. It was so eye-opening and affirming to know this was not me just being depressed, but actually my body releasing and processing some deep pain. It's been about 5 years since I learned about body memories and this is the first year that feels markably different.
Nothing magical really happened, except I started honoring my body. There are things I started incorporating regularly . . . exercising more than just walking at work, incorporating self-care routines to my days/weeks like face washes, bath nights, and hydration--it's amazing how physically cleansing drinking enough water can be for the mind and the body. Music has been incredibly helpful. I love to find songs that validate the struggle, but also are empowering and cross all genres. I find journaling to help a lot to get my thoughts out and to process them. I also take the time to honor how my body feels. For example, if I am tense I will do stretches and try to discover the reason for the tension. If I am struggling emotionally, I will honor my emotions and cope with them appropriately, and sit in the emotions instead of run from them, shove them away, or numb them like I used to. All this can sound very obvious to the average person, but when it comes to a trauma survivor the remainder of your life is spent learning how to process all the emotions, memories, and pain while functioning in a successful way. It's hard and, some days, I fail at it.
Last week, I realized that this has been 24 years since the first hard fall started. I wrote about it in a couple posts, "The Hard Season" and "The Cure for the Hard Season". This post is very much a part 3 on the subject. It surprises me to think of being 15 and face so much rejection in the span of 3 months that it still physically effects you 24 years later. When I think of the effects that remain from the trauma, it's very easy for me to choose anger. In fact, for a solid 10 years I was an angry, raging victim. I was on a fast track towards bitterness and had no single drop of kindness within me---even to strangers. It is a time of my life I'm not proud of and I have worked so hard to no longer continue to be that person. Therapy works, folks! A huge part of the reason anger came in hard and fast was the simple fact that I received so much rejection where I should have had protection and someone coming to my defense. Instead, I was met with disbelief, blame, rejection, abandonment, and disownment. I was 15 and this one season shaped me and who I would become far more than all the years before it had. Knowing this now, as I work in an at-risk high school full of kids the same age I was, who have stories similar or worse to mine, makes me burn with anger. It's not fair for any survivor to be blamed and abadoned for what they went through. And here I am, looking back to my 15 year old self and I can't believe I made it through this season.
March of 1996, my abuse I endured for five years was getting intense and much more horrific. I had reached the conclusion that it wasn't going to stop, ease up, and was going to get worse. I remember promising myself that if it got worse, I would be better off dead and I would end my life before I would let certain things happen. I didn't know how else to protect myself and I didn't have anyone to tell because I knew I wouldn't be believed . . . I would be called a liar and blamed, which is exactly what happened 6 months later. Everything came to a head in September when a friend I told my secret to in a letter got mad at me. To get me back, she showed my letter to her mom who happened to work for the county and was a mandated reporter. By October, it was all out in the open throughout the family and, since my abuser was a highly esteemed and loved family member, I was the one booted. It was easier to believe he never did anything to me and call me a liar than to accept this could have happened. I understand now why my family members struggled to believe and found rejecting me to be the easiest solution, but at the time my world crashed down around me in ways I never imagined. Deep down, I always knew I would be blamed, or thought a liar, but I never knew that would mean having my entire paternal side and some immediate family members blatantly reject me permantently. I was literally told, "You're dead to us now." Here I am 24 years later, still wounded by it and still no change from family. If I'm honest, I wouldn't accept their change of heart now anyways. I already worked through forgiving them, releasing them, but how do you heal a crushed heart? It still deeply effects me and I don't think it will ever completely heal. The pain is less every year, but the heart still aches for what was lost.
I attempted suicide in March 1996. I attempted three times in one week because I was so determined that death was better. Then, I went to a youth group lock-in and met Jesus. It sounds so simple, but to know someone loved me no matter what mattered. I was a good, Catholic girl who thought of being a nun at some point, ok? Believing in God was easy. Understanding Jesus died to save me and redeem me was never taught at my Catholic churches really. Most of the homilies were about politics, current events, and basic information. I don't recall ever hearing an actual sermon like I do in church now. I also don't recall ever being told Jesus died for me, but I was always told He died for the world and somehow I was included, yet not in a personal sense. If it weren't for this encounter with God, I know I would not have made it through the first hard season. This was when I discovered prayer being straight from the heart, I didn't have to pray something someone else once did, or something I memorized. I did some of my best praying in the shower, naked and ugly crying through the heartache. I remember feeling like it was just me and God most days, which it truly was. The rest of my high school life, I had no family in my corner and everyone in my small town knew it; so many stepped up to fill in roles that I never knew I needed.
This year, as I think about all this now . . . I realize that not much has ever changed. I am no contact with my parents for over 2 years now and it's been the best decision I ever made. I have a tribe here in Waco that has been there for me in ways I never knew I needed. In fact, just dealing with a recent surgery, I had so many people step up to surround and help me. I accepted the offer of a meal train for people to bring me meals, which for someone with an eating disorder background can be incredibly hard. This is the first time I ever said yes to such an offer. It was such a blessing and so incredibly healing for me in so many ways. It also helped me realize how much love and support I have here now between my friends, my church family, and BSF. I had friends texting me non-stop and putting up with my freak-out moments the one day I nearly lost it waiting for pathology results to come back. Other friends facetimed me and visited. I'm so thankful because this year it's so different with the hard season.
I know the hard season is here, I feel it still within me. Instead, I am able to resist the effects of it. I still honor my body and emotions, taking time to process them when I have to. I just know I don't have to give it 6 months of my year anymore. I don't have to feel it all so deeply that I am unable to thrive. I don't have to physically lay in bed because of the tension in my body. I don't have to sleep in because of the flashback nightmares that woke me up all night. And I don't have to eat away how I feel so that I am numb and able to function in the world. Instead, I feel the tension rising in my body and I do the stretches and trigger point rubs. I burst into tears this morning because I felt so much overwhelming stuff in the last couple of days and I didn't know what to do except cry. Once I realized I was angry and scared, I dealt with them head on also. This is one example of how I take the time to process my emotions, allowing them to take up a moment of my day and not half of my year. I don't need to borrow trouble from tomorrow today. Remembering this has helped the fears tremendously! I also don't need to choose anger anymore. So much of what happened to me in the past was unjust, wrong, and horrible but it doesn't help to stay focused on how unfair life is. Instead, I have chosen to forgive, release, and surrender...forgive those who need it, release them to God to deal with justly, and surrender my control and desire to make them suffer as deeply, or more than I did. A byproduct of choosing this path is I can now choose joy in place of the anger I once carried. It's not easy either! Some days I have to remind myself multiple times that anger is not where I want to be. Sometimes I have moments where it comes up and I have to rein it back in. Anger is not bad, but how you act within it, or how you deal with it is where bad actions can come. There's a fine line that can be very hard to navigate day to day, but I strive to find it and follow it.
Today I went on my nightly walk and remembered packing up to move to Waco. The only people supportive of this decision were my sister in Texas and my church friends. Everyone else told me a million reasons why this was the dumbest decision of my life, or would end up being a start of a horrible life. I know now they were panicked because they no longer could control me, or keep abusing me once I moved to Texas. It still took me 3 years to set boundaries that would stop this trend continuing. I was only able to do it because I was shown by God the love that surrounded me here in Texas. He also gave me my second momma, Lisa, whom I adore and love with my whole heart and has been such an amazing mother to me. Starting my Abraham Journey was the scariest thing I have ever done, but it was the best thing. I'm so thankful for the past 5.5 years here in Texas because they have brought out the most beautiful moments. As this year is #brave2020, I continue to move forward and choose brave. This year I refuse to let the hard season win. I will choose to be brave and still thrive during as time of year that brings about a lot of pain and heartache. I will choose to be kind and joyful, instead of partnering with anger for a season. And I will choose to live my best life because I know now living is worth every second you're given. I will continue to resist the hard season because I deserve more. . . more freedom and more thriving, living my best life.
