I'm in the autumn years of my life (going by how the world gages birthdays), at heart, I have never felt so young. Abuse, can be powerful in its destruction, it even seems able to deliver little ones, into the world with a ready made burden . I'm now emotionally reasonably steady, (One would hope so! but it ain't necessarily so!) especially in basic areas that allow me to keep myself , 'warm, safe, and secure'. The words, 'warm, safe and secure', can, I discovered, much to my surprise, (like reactions to abuse) vary from person, to person. I had assumed, everyone on earth saw life in the darkness that I did, until one day, in conversation with a man who was telling me how happy he was, I suddenly thought, 'I feel this man is sincere in what he is telling me'. Is it possible that my view of life is not the only one? Grains of gold are not sprinkled around like confetti in my life, but a few did come my way, in the form of maybe a few words, a look, they came in many intangible ways, and those simple things carried within them, immeasurable healing power.
The trauma affected me in every area of my life. Due to my lack of a sense of self, my intense search for an identity, coupled with no developed inner resources, led me into many areas, that were dangerous, and kept my trauma and confusion, at fever pitch. The only thing that stayed constant in my mind, was the question, "What is wrong with me?' I've since pondered on how I came to the conclusion, there was something wrong with me? My answer to myself is, in my heart and mind, I knew I lived a life that was not real, and in spite of achieving quite a lot, considering my state, the self destructive behavior, of two steps forward and five back, no matter how hard I tried to correct that pattern, continued, and the inner darkness, depression and emotional pain, just kept on and on. In the end, there were no steps forward, left to take.
The meaning of time? the value,? or perhaps the 'experience' of time is nearer the mark? It always felt as a mystery to me, it was never more than a wolf panting at my heels, trying to catch me and eat me up!; that was because, emotionally, (I believe) I was still in the abused world of the child, no matter how old I was, who I was with, or where I was.The fear and emotional suffering came from the very heart of me. 'A feeling and an image, of a car with failed brakes, stuck in top gear, careering down a steep slope', was my constant companion. Each day of freedom from that horrible sort of imagery, and the emotional chaos that goes with it, is a blessing and a deep joy,
The 'Twelve Step' support group, I belong to (33yrs, and I know these groups are not for everyone), was the place where I began to put together, a fragile bridge, that would allow me, to begin my journey, out of my severe isolation and dissociation. The support group represented, for me, a new world. The only world I'd ever know was the barren one presented to me, by people who, had also been abused. Generations of abuse, which they chose to deny, and went on, to be (in almost all of the cases) perpetrators of abuse themselves.
There I was in a Twelve Step Support Group. In the middle of people, who as they often say, 'threw in the towel', or who 'surrendered', or came to believe 'I cannot do it alone.' The last one was very pertinent to me, it was this insight that gave me the courage to take my first step into life. On reflection, I see that my inner state was completely unexplored and, undeveloped, due to neglect and abuse, from an early age, at the hands of uncaring, inadequate carers.
After many years of living with the constant, "What is wrong with me?" I finally found my answer 'neglect and abuse' I began to see and understand my impulsive, self-destructive behaviour in a different light; thus began, the slow erosion of my deep shame, The more I understood and accepted my abuse and its distortion of my development , the more I was freeing myself of reliving my trauma as a way of life.
And so began the painfully slow (but sure) opening of the door, to what feels like an on going life of common sense and creativity. That is all I ever wanted, and although my blind groping towards a glimmer of light, felt as if it would never happen, with the seed of hope rejuvenated in my heart, it was inevitable it would come about, and so it has.
I've wanted for sometime to write of my experience, and of the healing, I now enjoy. My uncertainty about how to start, has stopped me, again and again. I'm not a professionally qualified person in the area of abuse. However, I am qualified in the area of living as a victim of abuse for many years, and I'm now qualified as a survivor, who has overcome, the consequences and limitations imposed through neglect and abuse, and I no longer, carry the abusive messenger, within me everywhere I go. Enough wounds are healed, for me to enjoy most days. I'm surely blessed.
I have experienced the freedom and joy, (with occasional emotional setbacks, and confusion) for the past six years or perhaps longer. I say, perhaps longer, because among the insights I've had into myself , is that I don't always recognize my healing , until sometime after it has revealed itself to me. How does it reveal itself? In my actions, in my feelings, in , in, in,.........everything!
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I believe writing about my search will help bring me out of the isolation, I sense, is in some way, still weaving its mischief. It isn't the old isolation, I'm talking about, as far as I can tell. I think (in my case) it's due to not having found a way to share fully enough, my thoughts, my discoveries, information on abuse that I've gathered over the years, and found helpful, and also, to allow the inner child (which is the term I use, and feel at home with ) a voice and a place to explore, share and create.
