I have wounds. Likely you do to, but who am I to assume anything more than most people do.
For me its been a complex experience. It’s PTSD thing, and its caused fragmentation of the mind (soul). Presently I’ve brought the youngest parts of my soul into agreement to trust my present day age self. They know I’m not going to put them in jeopardy.
The teenager is an entirely different story. She was wounded harshly and is troubled, and doesn’t trust anyone, and if she had her way, I’d be running away from reality and burying myself in some form or another of denial, but I’m not. I’m (my adult 58 year old self) loving her through it, and so all these memories come up. It’s presently flashback central from the abandonment to the return to the abuses, the violence, the destroyed self esteem, and more. She doesn’t feel she deserves love, and her answer is to suck up her feelings and hurt through smoking. I had quit for a year and two months, and now, for the time being, I’m allowing the aspect of personality the crutch of smoking, even though my adult self hates it. Its making me feel horrible, dried out, lethargic, and it tastes like crap, but she needs it apparently.
According to the healing work I’m doing from “Who’s Really running Your Life” by Peter K. Gerlach MSW, the deeply wounded parts take a while to recover and you have to be gentle in the process. No hurry up and heal dammit, the world has expectations! It just doesn’t work that way. It’s painful, but it’s not the only part of my life there is. There is the other part, the adult part that will be on the artwork again soon. Presently though, the hip is out again from lack of sleep, tossing and turning with anxiety dreaming.
Tomorrow I have therapy, and it will help. Then I hope to get back into the practice of taking care of myself the right way. This young female part of me that has such low self esteem eats junk food, smokes, and doesn’t want to do anything healthy for herself. She’s stuck in self abusive language and I’m constantly on the mend and reassurance to her that she can trust me. We are no longer going to be in relationships with abusive wounded partners, we are no longer under the judgment of the world as to how we should look, what size we should be, or the monetary value of our existence.
This is entirely a one day at a time thing. I’m just glad I’m not crazy, and I’m not in an institution. I had a severe suicidal track record for verbalizing my need to off myself to make the world a better place for a few decades. At times I revert to that thinking, especially when others who do not know me, not the real me, and don’t even try to, judge me and condemn me with their off the cuff psychology. The ignorance of some people is dumbfounding. “Get over it”, they say, knowing nothing of the suffering you endure internally. “we can take you or leave you” they say, judging you to be of no value, assuming you will take the worst step in your next step of life.
To hell with them. Let them live the experience for themselves.
She’s rebellious and will take on the fight. If you dump shit on her mind, she’ll tell you fuck off, call you every ugly name in the book and if you use violence on her, she’ll reciprocate out of defense, but first she would choose to self wound. In the old days it was sit in the car and burn herself with a cigarette, or try cutting, or do something very risky and life threatening. Today, so far, the mind hears the voices of suggesting suicide, but the awareness knows its just pain speaking, and I’m trusting in time, that too will end as this sad part of my soul realizes that she can move forward into the present.
She is very talented. I have a work of her art hanging in my bedroom. A lioness drawing resting in the long grasses of the meadow, enjoying the sunlight and warmth. That’s what she wanted, but she got something entirely otherwise, something wretched, neglectful, ignorant, lustful and abusive put on her. She will recover, and she will rest in the sunlight as she wishes. Perhaps she will come out more in the painting, in a relaxed state of existence, rather than a continuous and perpetual flight or fight response state.
I should like very much to revisit her finer qualities of character, he sense of humor, her bravery, her ability to walk for miles and love it. I should like to have her join me in creative works, in gardening and in my meditations.
That is part of the healing work. Meditation. There are 11 stages of assessment and work that require deeper and deeper levels of self understanding and truth, and each requires meditation and rest. Healing the soul, the emotional pains, is exhausting. It take the juice and energy right out of the body and leaves little room for other things to do.
She will heal, and we will be whole. Amen.
I truly appreciate the people that make the memes on line. They make them out of all kinds of walks of life. The ones that are healing, anyway, are good. They are a slide show on my computer to help me change my mind, because its all in the mind where the choices are made. Its also all in the mind as to which part of the personality will be dominant and run the show. I love my teenage young adult self, but she’s not well trained about how to manage and keep a healthy happy life. I prefer she let go the need to control and protect herself and trust me. In time, I believe I can love her, (myself at that age) enough to recover.
Yesterday I was given 13 more spoons and forks from a woman named Anna. They are wonderful antique pieces. I look forward, after I have finished the lot I have, to working with them, they will make magnificent rings, and perhaps, other pieces of jewelry too.
But for now, rather than press myself for production, I rest myself in the process of healing, and give myself loving care, as if I were the mother to my own teenage self. Because we do have to be, for ourselves, the one we needed while young, that just wasn’t able to be there for us.