For the past two weeks now I have been participating in the Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) at Thunderbird Hospital. Even though I have pretty much just begun the program, I'm finding it to be somewhat helpful and I think the other members comprise an exceptional group of people. As emotional as I can be at times, I absolutely hate when my feelings get the better of me and take control, especially in front of other people. Yesterday was the second time I became uncontrollably tearful and wasn't able to verbalize what was going on in my head. It was even worse than the first time. I know the group is supposed to be a safe place to share and get things out, work through and deal with them. But sometimes I can't make the words come out or even describe what's going through my mind since I can't figure it out myself. I have discovered some unexpected emotions resulting from the sexual abuse when I was young. I guess most people would say they shouldn't be unexpected because scars from old wounds are like that, they surface when they're good and ready. I know this may be hard to understand, but I guess in addition to suppressing those events, and even the brief times I may have thought about them, I never thought it was a big deal. Well, of course it's a big deal and my lifetime of minimizing and hiding those things has finally bubbled up to the surface. Going through treatment and getting the help I need has been like having a light switch constantly flipping my inner emotions and demons on and off without my ability to control them. Where is a Clapper when you need one? I suppose that's a good thing right now, so that I can begin to process and deal with the scars left behind. I'm starting to identify some of the feelings apart from the sadness and depression I'm so keenly aware of now. I realize now that I have so much anger at the person who did the unspeakable when I was four and, as my sister suggested, some of those feelings may be subconsciously directed towards my parents for not protecting me from that.
I have never been a person who openly expresses anger very often so I'm not really well versed on how to deal with this level of suppressed rage. I don't even know the person's name that so brutally and selfishly stole my innocence and childhood from me. I only know he was someone hired by my parents to do yard and landscaping work. As painful as those memories are, I'm having an even more difficult time with discovering and connecting how that abuse has impacted my entire life in some way or another. At this point I don't know how I will ever be able to find forgiveness and let go of all the anger I've been hiding deep down inside me all these years, decades now actually. Why now? What circumstances brought all of this to the surface at this point in my life? Couldn't it have just stayed in the dark recesses of wherever it was so neatly tucked away? These are some of the questions I keep asking myself, only to realize that now I'm angry at myself for keeping it hidden and never recognizing that it was even abusive in the first place. Guild and shame can do seemingly irreparable damage to the soul, speaking as one who knows. I'd like to say that recognition and acknowledgment brings all of the answers and the pain goes away, but unfortunately it doesn't. In fact it makes things even worse, at least for a while, having to deal with things that have always been viewed as better tucked away. I truly thought that just not thinking about it made it all better, but I now see the progression of negative influence these events brought forth throughout my life. I never understood when I attempted suicide as a young adolescent that my depression back then was a result of this thing that happened to me as a four year old child. It was never discussed, asked about, or even on my mind at all. Perhaps back then it was just blocked out of my mind altogether. I guess these past months have made me wish it was still blotted from my memory, but I know that's not healthy approach either.
The brain is an incredible piece of engineering on God's part, but when the human condition wanders into sadness, depression and despair it sure can be one of the biggest obstacles to recovery as well! So far it seems that no matter how much information and logic part of the brain has, there is still that other part the can be even more powerful, working to obliterate the work being done to sort through all of the crap it's taken a lifetime to build up. Medications definitely help stabilize things a bit, but they don't make traumatic life experiences go away. I only wish there was such a magic pill, other than cyanide of course, that would wipe everything away and start fresh with a whole new mindset. I suppose it's too much to hope that a mere few months of medication and treatment could undo all that has happened to bring me to where I am today, but it's a nice thought. So yes, I have good days and bad days, sometimes even down to good hours and bad hours. It is so frustrating to be seemingly fine one minute and in tears the next, just because a thought popped into my head or a song brought back some memory I wasn't ready for. Of late my biggest obstacle to overcome has been to droning thought that maybe I will never get any better, maybe this is as good as it gets. I know that's not true, well at least part of my brain does. The other and sometimes much greater portion of my mind has yet to be convinced. One of the brightest spots recently has been my adoption of Ping, an eight year old oriental shorthair that thinks he's a dog. Even though I love him to death and know he will be a great and therapeutic companion for me, the adjustment period consisting of him hiding out is making me sad and frustrated as well. Perhaps that's why I immediately identified with and attached myself to him, we've both suffered traumatic experiences and are having difficulties adjusting. In time, when he finally comes out of his shell and warms up to me, I know we will be the best of buddies, caring for and loving each other unconditionally. For now, my adoptive parenthood is much like my battle with emotions and feelings, somewhat turbulent at best. Ah well, this too shall pass. I only hope it's not like the passing of a kidney stone, bloody and painful!
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