Nothing like jumping right in....
23:40 Apr 26 2010
Times Read: 618
***If you are starting in the process.....please go to the bottom and read up.****
You see I grew up as an only child who was very ill the first few years of my life….in and out of hospitals a lot. Being put to sleep at least once a month for many months and at least two surgeries, one of which was a major surgery that involved three different organs all at once….and this was at the age of three.
I honestly don’t remember a whole lot of that time. Perhaps I blocked it out as a self preservation mode. Or perhaps all the times I was put to sleep really did warp my memory. I do know that to this day the smell of ether makes me instantly nauseous and panicky.
I also know that from years of working with people who have survived childhood sexual abuse, I have the survivor traits. I DO NOT think I was abused. But I do think to a three year old back in the 1960’s being held down to insert needles or catheters or what have you into a child’s private parts is traumatic. Back then, they didn’t try to explain to children or even make things child friendly. It was hold them down, do it and get it over with and move on to the next person. How does a three year old deal with that?
Well, for me, apparently I ate, and although there were tears at the physical pain, I internalized a lot. I “swallowed”…..words, food, straight pins, marbles, change, whatever I could get my hands on according to my Mom. I can’t imagine doing the straight pins as I just think that would stick my insides all the time…but I did..three straight pins…and they eventually passed. Mom said she had “never touched so much poop in my life” because she had to make sure they passed. I do remember the marbles and the change though as I was older than five when those attempts were made.
Mom also talks about putting me on a diet at age five because I was overweight and it seems I would also hide food. I sort of recall hiding candy bar or things like that. But, why? I mean the food was always around, my Mom and both Grandmothers were great cooks and food was plentiful. I can only think that because of the surgeries and hospital stays, I was often denied food for medical reasons. Again…a three year old does not really understand the reasons, they just know they are hungry and no one will give them food.
Then on top of all this, I had enuresis, which means I wet my pants or the bed a lot. This was actually a huge reason I had surgery and was in and out of the hospital so much. My parts didn’t work the way they should and needed to be fixed. But the point is…I did this until I was almost twelve. During the day I was usually ok. But at night, I guess I slept too deeply but I can’t tell you how many nights I had to get up and get a towel to put over the wet spot in the bed. Any idea what that does to a kid?
Well…..let me share. Other kids can be cruel. I was made fun of for that and for being overweight. But my parents and teachers would tell me to turn the other cheek or ignore it or reassure me that I would grow out of it or whatever. But the damage was done. And what did I do? I SWALLOWED it. All the hurt, embarrassment, anger, and frustration followed by food to make me feel somewhat better, if only for a few minutes.
Interestingly enough, as I write this, I have tightness in my throat and a reflex to swallow.
Intro to Finding MY Voice
23:31 Apr 26 2010
Times Read: 626
Wow it has been a while since I had a few moments that I wanted to write things down and put here in the journal. I have not been on much because I needed a break. Life has been….well life.
I had told Cat and Rat about how I had been feeling ….which was distracted and passionless in pretty much everything. I felt like I had lost my focus, my path, if you will. I have been told by a couple of folks that I need to speak up more…to “find your voice”, if it were only that easy! It is especially hard when you did not realize that you had lost it…..or never really had it…..still working on that.
Perhaps this is a way to find both my passion and my focus again. To either find my voice or refine the one I have to actually reflect me and not the way I have been conditioned or functioned for the last 46 years. A huge undertaking.
I can’t say that it will happen or that I will always share here….but I am putting it here. I hope that a certain offer of holding me accountable will be forthcoming. It is not a journey that I ever thought about undertaking at this age. I thought I had been through this already..but as I often tell my clients and students (and I apparently FORGOT) is that our paths are not a straight line. They are often winding and bumpy with some hills, hollows, rivers to ford, and sometimes even caves to explore.
I think this is my cave. I hope that I can take what I know now into that cave as a light and find the voice that seems to be missing. The voice that others can hear and know is there in the dark….and the very one I cannot hear as of yet.
Journal section name change
23:29 Apr 26 2010
Times Read: 627
I have decided to change the name of this section of my journal becuase I want to use it for a specific focus....for my own therapy if you will.
This is my journey. My thoughts, experiences, and feelings. You are invited to share it with me. But, please, be gentle in your comments. For in this...I am as fragile as the morning mist.
COMMENTS
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LadyChordewa
02:34 Apr 27 2010
KCRC
01:05 May 01 2010
*Hugs* indeed.
Just getting around to reading journals after not being on for a few days.
It's amazing the trauma caused to us when we are kids by well meaning medical professionals who just didn't know better.