When I began group therapy in the winter of 2009-2010, I did not know anything about healing and wiring myself to be normal. I only knew that I was supposed to take care of myself, talk to others, and it'll be fine. Oh, and the medication doses, up and down! Finding money to pay for it without alerting my mother's insurance was another trick too.
But it's all part of being down the hole.
What is the hole, you ask?
It is a chronic illness. It's something I return to time and again - my depression. And the best way I can describe it is by Autobiography in Five Chapters by Portia Nelson, There’s a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery.
I. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out. II. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I still don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. It isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out. III. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it there, I still fall It's habit. It's my fault. I know where I am. I get out immediately. IV. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. V. I walk down a different street.
At the time I first read it, I applauded it for the short twist on getting out of darkness. It's the power of choice and learning to walk down a different street, without telling me how it was done other than willpower. So, I told myself that I did not have the willpower to get out of the hole.
I was weak and pathetic.
I just was not trying hard enough.
It was much later that I learned it was more than that, of course.
But have you ever thought of trauma as an addiction?
Hear me out.
Set aside drugs, alcohol, gambling and any other kind of addiction you know of. Set aside everything you knew about addiction and think of an average person with an average family, and out of the blue (to you anyway), they are in AA, NA, GA, etc. What is the common theme behind every person who uses something to fill the void inside?
They had been traumatized in some fashion.
Trauma is the gateway drug, and it comes in different forms. It could be growing up poor in public housing and going without. Your parents could have divorced and the process was painful and you heard the arguing or saw physical abuse. People you live with could have gone through trauma themselves from things out of their control - war, genocide, etc. - and it affected you.
Anything. That. Hurt. You. And. Changed. You. Is. Trauma.
Trauma passes from one generation to the next. It quietly slips in when you watch your parent disrespect themselves through abusive partners. The loneliness and bonding they share with you over a joint or a drink, before you reach the age of consent. The unloved mother who found competition with her daughter instead of enjoying her companionship. The father who has different feelings about each of his children and refused to change how he views it.
Unless you stop it.
My now-husband has been with me for many years and knows my family well. He was the one who told me what was happening, why it was considered abuse, and that I had a will and a way. While some might see this as controlling, I see it as painful - which is what the truth is. It took time, but I got away by myself, with his help leading me there. There were so many lessons in walking away.
It gave new understanding of the hole.
I was very lucky to escape substance addiction. With the help of my husband (once more), I quickly realized what was important to me and why. I know what medications to avoid and the combinations that make me feel like the hole has been fulfilled and needed more later. I pride myself a bit for being this self-awareness.
It does not mean that there are the days where the hole is easier to deal with. It's familiar. It's easier to swim in. I love returning to the nastiness and spewing it forth on others...
So that they would leave me alone.
When I am silent, it comes out in different ways - sacrificing when we've lacked, skipping meals, not taking a walk, sleeping for hours. It's putting on a smile while I felt small inside. But lately, it's been getting out of bed every morning, telling myself that the day is young and I would never know what would happen next.
And every time, I have to remember to look up.
I can climb out...and it won't be blinding.
Namaste, everyone. Have a wonderful weekend!
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