Today I had a therapy session and I just dug right into the pain. It's remarkable how deep that pain is, how far back it goes. And yet the one thing that resonates is only relative by looking at relationships.I've made some mistakes, I've overreacted, said things I wish I could take back, but what I wish is that the context was taken into account. It always takes two people. It is never entirely one person's fault. I have the tendancy to look at my "mistakes" and take on all of the burden. Fortunately, that's just not the way things are. Everything is a result of two (obviously there are exceptions). What I've learned is when I sit there in therapy, I talk about everyone else. How I feel badly about others, how I reacted or who has gotten hurt and finally, today, the therapist said, "Stop. Are you hearing yourself? You are only able to talk about others. How you could have made it better, how you could have done things differently. But not once have you talked about yourself. How all of this affects you." I bursted out in tears. Why? Because it was true. I spend so much time worrying about how my actions might have affected or hurt another, I never stopped to realize no one was taking that kind of time on me. Almost no one. One person gets the free pass here and that person knows. (Thanks, Jonesy).
In my 36 years, rarely has anyone actually tried protecting me. Tried protecting my feelings. And so as a natural consequence, I stopped protecting my feelings too. I experience a huge fear of loss because too many people I've loved have died or gone away. I blame myself, which is ridiculous because someone dying or leaving isn't in my control. Granted, I've left people too, and I'm not proud of that. I'm not proud of the hurt that I may have caused and god, if I could do it over with the knowledge I'm finally attaining, things would be very different. But they aren't. I just have to find a way to love myself again. This last relationship I was in - the one I'm having trouble letting go of - I remember the last big fight. After which, the internal self talk or "negative cognition" sounded something like this: I'm not worth it. I'm not enough. I'm unloved. I'm not beautiful. To which, my therapist replied: Now, say the exact opposite because you are worth it. You are enough. You are loved. You are beautiful. Which, of course, resulted in more tears. And then we went straight into EMDR.
Yikes! Memories that flash before you, like, Wheel of Fortune (this is the example the therapist gives before starting light therapy). You watch a light, focus on a moment, a painful memory. Stop. Breathe in deeply, exhale deeply then you say the first thought that pops into your visual memory. It's amazing what comes out. Amazing. In the end, I felt better and then sad and then manageable and then happy and then angry and then hurt and then remorseful and then, then - a small amount of peace.
So while my heart has a long way to go before it starts to feel whole again, I am grateful for the life that led me to here. This place in life where the storm is harsh, the road seems beaten, but then I look at the face of my child and she is proof I have done something extraordinary and good and beautiful. I am grateful to be a mother. I am grateful that I have given children love and acceptance and have given joy to some children that never had any. I actually remembered this one little boy I used to work with in Sunday School (yes, Sunday School, when I was more "religious"). I worked with children ages 6-10 and for some reason I knew I could be the teacher and maternal figure many of them were lacking. I thought about Robert. Robert was 7 at the time. Robert had a lot of emotional and psychological issues that kept him from fully enjoying life. After an "episode" his father had to make the painful decision to admit him into a child psychiatric hospital. I could see the pain in his dad's eyes but I saw a moment of joy come back when I would come and visit Robert at the hospital. I would make pictures with him and read stories and just talk. Sometimes I think that's what I was meant to do. Reminded me also of Riley. Riley was a little boy who would not respond to tutors because he had Autism, ticks, ADHD and ADD. I asked to give it a shot. I found that all Riley needed was some love and a little "silly". I bought him a copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends" and sat there and read the poetry with him one tutoring session. His mom, Jan, was elated. It was the first time in her son's 8 years that he actually showed a focused interest in reading. Riley was a genius. As was Robert. Robert put his first computer together at the age of 3. Sometimes when one faculty is taken away, another one is given in its stead.
I am grateful for the gifts I've been given. I am grateful to be a mother. I am grateful I believed in you when you lost your house. I'm grateful I believed in you when you told me of your loss. I am grateful you took care of me when I couldn't. I am grateful I didn't give up. I am grateful I won't lose hope. I am grateful for the party I threw at the Tiki Room (PDC). I am grateful I needed Skin Medica (Bestie). I am grateful for Calvary (Tanta). I a grateful for FB (Jess). I am grateful you looked through your window. I am grateful to have forgotten one last box. I am grateful you told me of your struggles. I am grateful for being strong. I am hoping to be a better friend. I am hoping to believe in love. I am hoping to be the best example of loving, because my baby deserves that. It takes a lot to admit you've been wrong, but it takes even more to recognize the beauty within yourself. I'm not pointless. Neither are you. Neither are any of us. But if we don't stop beating ourselves up and start healing what we can heal, it doesn't matter. I'm not without hope. I believe I'm worth a second chance. I believe I'm NOT worth losing faith in. That's not easy to say. To those of you who continue to see past the mistakes and love me anyway, I am SO grateful for you. You are extraordinary and in case I don't say it enough, you are my gifts. Harold, Yvette, Linnea, Trista, Shana, Lakeia, Jesse, Anthony, Karsten, Mr. Jones, Mayumi, Tama, Maxime, David, Liz, LoLo --- thank you for the continual love, encouragement, and reminder that I've done a lot of "right" in my life. You are shining examples of that.
Happy Thanksgiving...
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