In a slump

[Depression = 72% of members]

As I often tell my T, he is 'positively mean' when he points out the good things he's seeing in me, and I guess you guys fall into the same category.   I'll explain. You are being positive and I say it's mean because it gets under my skin and causes me to say maybe you are right. (It's really just a play on words.) I find it far, far easier to care for others than it is to care for myself.

I'd say that there were two main triggers in my life recently that have opened up doors which I didn't even know were there in my memory (nor did I want them to be opened). It's influenced both the mental and the physical aspects of memory.  I'd like to say it all began with a frog, a bean bag frog.

When I was a child, someone gave me a little 6 inch bean bag frog, maybe it was my grandpa who gave it to me. The frog was green as most frogs are.   I don't remember when I got him because there are so many blank spots in my memory that are just gone, hidden because of the trauma from my uBPDm. The frog stayed in my bedroom with all the other stuffed animals, and I went away to college, came back, then went away to live in Africa for a school year, came back, was engaged to be married and decided it was time that I grow up and get rid of my stuffed animals... .and the frog. I was sad about the frog though because he always sat on my desk and somehow kept me company.  He saw my tears when I cried myself to bed at night, kept me company when I was doing homework late at night finally after all my chores were done. But wouldn't you know, a mouse had chewed a hole in him and eaten all the beans out so he was as flat as a frog run over by a car. Time for him to go.

Sometime during my counseling, my wise T heard about this frog and suggested that if I ever find another one, he wanted me to buy it. Well, I walked in a tiny store filled with all kinds of things about 2 weeks ago, and there was a bin full of brightly colored sand bag frogs, little ones, only about 6" long. It cost all of $3 and some change, and I knew I had to get one, the metallic green one of course.   I came home and put him on my desk, just like I used to do, and suddenly I felt like I was 15 years old again, looking at that frog who was keeping me company.  :)arn frog anyways. It's all his fault.

How often my T says to me to listen to my body and what it's saying and what are my inner children saying too? That 15 year old teen Wools has been quiet for years, and there was good reason why. All of the years of having a uBPDm were tough, but these teen years were some of the hardest for me. These years are the ones with the memories coming out, the stinky "I-don't-want-to-remember" times. Yet to validate and hear her, I need to listen and go towards those feelings and memories. The memories don't have any power over me anymore for indeed, they are only memories. But the process of walking through what that 15 year old went through, grieving the terrible hopelessness she felt and feeling so isolated and alone is really tough.

One of the very clear memories is that we moved to a different house about the time when I turned 15. It was a house over a hundred years old that the mentally disabled had lived in (which is rather creepy to me). There was no kitchen in the house at first since they had ripped it out, and everyone had a bedroom, including my siblings, except for me. I was given a spot in the living room to put my bed, up next to the 3 windows that formed a little spot where my bed would fit. My mom put a little screen at the end of my bed, and I lived there for over 2 1/2 years. It was so cold back there. The wind would blow through the old windows, and even when I hung blankets up to cover the windows, I would lay there and watch the blankets moving from the wind coming through. The shampoo bottle I set on the windowsill froze during the night, and my cheeks had frost bite on them. Life seemed so hopeless to me then. I couldn't get away from my parents fighting and DV in the next room in the middle of the nights, and I missed between 21 and 29 days of school every year of my high school. None of us kids remember why. Those memories are gone. The list of chores were endless for me.

I know that what I write are only words, yet in the mind of the one who has experienced it, the words carry so much imagery and potent feelings. I'm working at finding the balance, not letting the 15 year old's feelings control me, but definitely acknowledging them and processing. Something encouraging is that even with all the headaches and muscle pains (she felt as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and it's my shoulders and neck muscles that hurt so bad), I have been making progress. I thought back to how I did survive those years, and I was very physically active with sports and riding my bicycle for miles when I was given time off. Then I worked puzzles late at night until after midnight so that I could have some time of my own. I pulled out a puzzle this week to work, and I've slept deeper and longer than I have in a very long time.

My T encouraged me to reach out to my other little ones, like my 5 year old and 10 year old inner children and they've been staying with the 15 year old, reminding her that they are there with her, keeping her company.  In the end we are integrating, coming together and defining who I am. With this sense of not being so alone now, I am finally starting to focus less on all those things which surrounded me back then, and more on how to protect my inner ones, especially this 15 year old. There is a lightness and freedom that is beginning to find its way out, the letting go of the chains of trauma and abuse that have held me for so long.

It's been a long couple of weeks, but I'm getting on through it. As Pete Walker says, these emotional triggers are opportunities to go back and see what we haven't dealt with yet.

[Woolspinner2000]

As I often tell my T, he is 'positively mean' when he points out the good things he's seeing in me, and I guess you guys fall into the same category.   I'll explain. You are being positive and I say it's mean because it gets under my skin and causes me to say maybe you are right. (It's really just a play on words.) I find it far, far easier to care for others than it is to care for myself.

I'd say that there were two main triggers in my life recently that have opened up doors which I didn't even know were there in my memory (nor did I want them to be opened). It's influenced both the mental and the physical aspects of memory.  I'd like to say it all began with a frog, a bean bag frog.

When I was a child, someone gave me a little 6 inch bean bag frog, maybe it was my grandpa who gave it to me. The frog was green as most frogs are.   I don't remember when I got him because there are so many blank spots in my memory that are just gone, hidden because of the trauma from my uBPDm. The frog stayed in my bedroom with all the other stuffed animals, and I went away to college, came back, then went away to live in Africa for a school year, came back, was engaged to be married and decided it was time that I grow up and get rid of my stuffed animals... .and the frog. I was sad about the frog though because he always sat on my desk and somehow kept me company.  He saw my tears when I cried myself to bed at night, kept me company when I was doing homework late at night finally after all my chores were done. But wouldn't you know, a mouse had chewed a hole in him and eaten all the beans out so he was as flat as a frog run over by a car. Time for him to go.

Sometime during my counseling, my wise T heard about this frog and suggested that if I ever find another one, he wanted me to buy it. Well, I walked in a tiny store filled with all kinds of things about 2 weeks ago, and there was a bin full of brightly colored sand bag frogs, little ones, only about 6" long. It cost all of $3 and some change, and I knew I had to get one, the metallic green one of course.   I came home and put him on my desk, just like I used to do, and suddenly I felt like I was 15 years old again, looking at that frog who was keeping me company.  :)arn frog anyways. It's all his fault.

How often my T says to me to listen to my body and what it's saying and what are my inner children saying too? That 15 year old teen Wools has been quiet for years, and there was good reason why. All of the years of having a uBPDm were tough, but these teen years were some of the hardest for me. These years are the ones with the memories coming out, the stinky "I-don't-want-to-remember" times. Yet to validate and hear her, I need to listen and go towards those feelings and memories. The memories don't have any power over me anymore for indeed, they are only memories. But the process of walking through what that 15 year old went through, grieving the terrible hopelessness she felt and feeling so isolated and alone is really tough.

One of the very clear memories is that we moved to a different house about the time when I turned 15. It was a house over a hundred years old that the mentally disabled had lived in (which is rather creepy to me). There was no kitchen in the house at first since they had ripped it out, and everyone had a bedroom, including my siblings, except for me. I was given a spot in the living room to put my bed, up next to the 3 windows that formed a little spot where my bed would fit. My mom put a little screen at the end of my bed, and I lived there for over 2 1/2 years. It was so cold back there. The wind would blow through the old windows, and even when I hung blankets up to cover the windows, I would lay there and watch the blankets moving from the wind coming through. The shampoo bottle I set on the windowsill froze during the night, and my cheeks had frost bite on them. Life seemed so hopeless to me then. I couldn't get away from my parents fighting and DV in the next room in the middle of the nights, and I missed between 21 and 29 days of school every year of my high school. None of us kids remember why. Those memories are gone. The list of chores were endless for me.

I know that what I write are only words, yet in the mind of the one who has experienced it, the words carry so much imagery and potent feelings. I'm working at finding the balance, not letting the 15 year old's feelings control me, but definitely acknowledging them and processing. Something encouraging is that even with all the headaches and muscle pains (she felt as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and it's my shoulders and neck muscles that hurt so bad), I have been making progress. I thought back to how I did survive those years, and I was very physically active with sports and riding my bicycle for miles when I was given time off. Then I worked puzzles late at night until after midnight so that I could have some time of my own. I pulled out a puzzle this week to work, and I've slept deeper and longer than I have in a very long time.

My T encouraged me to reach out to my other little ones, like my 5 year old and 10 year old inner children and they've been staying with the 15 year old, reminding her that they are there with her, keeping her company.  In the end we are integrating, coming together and defining who I am. With this sense of not being so alone now, I am finally starting to focus less on all those things which surrounded me back then, and more on how to protect my inner ones, especially this 15 year old. There is a lightness and freedom that is beginning to find its way out, the letting go of the chains of trauma and abuse that have held me for so long.

It's been a long couple of weeks, but I'm getting on through it. As Pete Walker says, these emotional triggers are opportunities to go back and see what we haven't dealt with yet.

[DaddyBear77]

I know that what I write are only words, yet in the mind of the one who has experienced it, the words carry so much imagery and potent feelings.

Woolspinner, your words are immensely powerful tools that you use to communicate the images and experiences of your life. We read those words and take them into our own context, and by sharing those words, we also experience something ourselves. We experience compassion, understanding, we share your pain and sadness. Sometimes they bring things up from our own past, and remind us of things in our own past. We form images, perhaps not the same, but I really get what you're saying.

Thank you so much for sharing this little glimpse into a 15 year old Woolspinner's life. I envision a person who was stronger than any 15 year old should have to be, someone who needed compassion and nurturing and was left to find it for herself. All this must be so hard to relive, to re-experience. To be both literally and figuratively out in the cold, and to have no escape from the conflict, and the chores. Wow. I am so sorry.

I spent about a year working with a therapist who specialized in inner child work - this reminds me so much of my experience with him. It was some of the most difficult work I've done in all the years I've spent in therapy. One of the most difficult exercises was also one of the simplest - standing in front of a mirror and looking myself in the eyes. I tear up thinking about it. I get how hard this is.

 

[heartandwhole]

So moving, Woolspinner. Very powerful. Thank you for sharing.

My heart breaks for 15-year-old Woolspinner, but rejoices for you today. You are brave and strong to turn toward these experiences and look at them directly. Many don't even get close. I admire you.

[Harley Quinn]

Woolspinner you write so eloquently about a time that must have been so deeply painful for you.  Your strength is tremendous.  I am in my mind likening your 15 year old self to Cinderella.  She triumphed and got to live her dreams - free of her difficult past, as will you.  You're very inspiring.  

Love and light x

[Woolspinner2000]

Thx to each of you for your kind words. Truly.  

When I saw the new version of Cinderella put out by Disney a couple years ago, I was thankful I didn't run out of the theatre in a major trigger!   That movie portrays my life quite well when I see the constant work, the cold attic she had to sleep in, and the step mother--whoa!   Those who knew my mom (especially my family members) when they saw the movie for the first time turned with wide eyes to me and said, "That is just like your mother!" She even looks like my mom, and so many of her words and the actions and her laughing at me (Cinderella actually!) were exact duplicates of my uBPDm as well. I am always inspired to watch it again because of the kindness and beauty I see in Cinderella. If you haven't seen it, it's worth checking out.

More this weekend when I have some more time.
 

[Turkish]

Wools, that's positively Dickensian!

The triggers/reminders are interesting. I'm glad you've got help to identify this and work through it. 

When I did at risk teen mentoring, they had the mentors go through most of the exercises that the youth did. "Life portaits" often had kids and adults crying. At camp, the make or break,  we had the youth look into a mirror and do positive affirmations.  As a mentor,  I either held onto my kids or held the mirror.  I remember tearing up just watching them.   If was tough stuff! And I selfishly thought, "thank God I don't have to do this one!" Doing it by yourself or even with your T must be tough.  Do you have anyone you can trust to support you in the exercise?

[Harley Quinn]

Woolspinner that's so surreal for you.  I'm impressed that you managed to stick out the entire film, but glad you saw the ending.  Have hope and be kind  

[Woolspinner2000]

What has stood out from your replies and causes my brain to stop and wonder is that you've each mentioned my strength. That is so odd to me for indeed I feel so very weak when I look at that time in my life and experience the sadness of my 15 year old self. It is a paradox, isn't it? The other point I note is that you've each reminded me with your illustrations that this type of inner child work, the deep-to-your-broken-heart work, is really very very hard. It seems the deeper I go in peeling off the layers, the harder it has become. At the same time, I clearly know that 5 or 6 years ago when I began T, I would've run like crazy from this type of revelation of what I went through. It takes time to get to the deep places of trust:

-trust that what we felt was a fairly accurate portrayal of our experience
-trust that we can believe ourselves
-trust that others are being honest in their care for us
-trust that we will hear and protect ourselves and our inner ones

I'm recovering quicker from my triggers than in the past, generally speaking. This one is taking longer, but I'm working through it on a much deeper level too, and there is the deeper need to heal my 15 year old. The mirror illustration sounds as if it is a fruitful exercise. This one, below, was also quite an exercise for me. I thought of it myself and figured it might be helpful. I thought it would be helpful for me to share with you all as well. BTW, the reference to my 29 year old self means my "old" me who is really older than that. ; )

To my 15 year old self,

I'm glad to finally begin to get to know you. You been quiet for many years. I'm sorry that it's taken this long for us to become reacquainted, but I understand why it has taken so long. I think it has taken you a very long time to feel safe enough to begin to share, and first you had to watch and see if you really could trust me with yourself.

You are hurting; I can feel it deeply for I am intimately connected to you. Who I am has grown out of who you are and were. I'm beginning to gain a great respect for you because for the first time ever, I'm seeing what it took for you to put one foot in front of the other every day you lived in the old house on that dirt road. Last night you showed me what it felt like to be cold at night when you laid on your bed in the space they had given you, where there was no warmth in the winter time, only cold. You wrapped up in blankets and watched the wind blow the blankets hung over the windows. It was hard to get warm, and you felt all alone. There were noises during the night, and you were scared, but you had no place to go to flee from them. I reminded you to cry out to the Lord, and he was there. Together we saw him standing there, all light, the Warrior, keeping us safe, guarding the way and no evil could come past his presence to get to you. All our other ones came to sit near, the 5 and 10 year old, to let you know you weren't alone because they were there too, wanting to comfort you and keep you company. They said you weren't alone and held your hand to let you know. It was a comfort for you and I (29 year old me) to watch and know that we were not as alone as we thought we were. I realized that it must be God's time that you start to know the rest of us. I think you won't feel so alone. How hard it must've been for you to be in that place of loneliness and isolation and hopelessness.

I think that you need a new name instead of 'the hopeless one;' something like 'resilient' or 'survivor' because it was the choices you made to hold on and keep going and not step into the abyss which have made you who you are today. God surely must've been with you in ways that you didn't know, to preserve you and allow you to have a heart that was seeking after him all through that terrible pain and abuse. We didn't understand the trauma, did we? One day turned into another, then another, and somehow eventually you were able to leave. Thank you for choosing good and healthy ways to survive.

I remember you cried yourself to sleep at night when you were 17, but by then you finally had a place to cry in your own bedroom those few months before you left for college. I'm glad you cried to release the pressure of a breaking heart. You dreamed dreams of leaving and escaping, and one day you moved away. You worked hard to pay your way through college, determined to make it even when you didn't know how. Your resilience as a 15 and 16  year old is a lot of what formed your future.

We'll get through this current overflow of memories and triggers together. Don't give up.

I care about you.
Your 29 year old self

[heartandwhole]

Thank you for sharing your letter, Woolspinner. This is powerful work you are doing.  

I think that you need a new name instead of 'the hopeless one;' something like 'resilient' or 'survivor' because it was the choices you made to hold on and keep going and not step into the abyss which have made you who you are today.

I agree wholeheartedly

[DaddyBear77]

Woolspinner, after I read this, I had to sit back for a little myself. This is powerful on many levels. Thank you for sharing it.

I'm recovering quicker from my triggers than in the past, generally speaking. This one is taking longer, but I'm working through it on a much deeper level too, and there is the deeper need to heal my 15 year old.

I understand what you're saying about "recovering from your triggers" - meaning, being able to move on with daily functioning in a way you did before things came flooding back. But what if this isn't something to "recover" from as much as it is a turning point in your life? A time when a missing piece becomes integrated into who you are? "Recovery" in the sense of returning to where you were might not be the best thing. "Recovery" in terms of recovering from trauma (healing your 15 year old self) sounds like the the most important part of what you're doing here, even if it means never returning to the old "normal."

Really, really hard work being done. You're an inspiration. I know you probably don't believe that, but you are.

[once removed]

slumps, and the thoughts and memories that tend to accompany them are the worst.

we are here with you woolspinner 

[Woolspinner2000]

You've gotten me to thinking, DB77.

I understand what you're saying about "recovering from your triggers" - meaning, being able to move on with daily functioning in a way you did before things came flooding back

Yes, that's exactly right. And then you asked the following:

But what if this isn't something to "recover" from as much as it is a turning point in your life? A time when a missing piece becomes integrated into who you are? "Recovery" in the sense of returning to where you were might not be the best thing. "Recovery" in terms of recovering from trauma (healing your 15 year old self) sounds like the the most important part of what you're doing here, even if it means never returning to the old "normal." 

I've been asking myself some questions since I read your post. What does it really mean to heal from our wounds? I think you have some very good points there. Truly for me to recover would indeed mean to heal from that time in my life from 15 to 18 years old and to bring that part of my life into who I am today and become stronger for it. Something like that.

When I consider our wounded warriors for example, those who have lost an arm or a leg, how do they recover? They can't put a leg back on unless it's a prosthesis. Or someone who has had a heart attack and their physical heart was damaged, in some cases irreparably. How do they recover? Slowly they begin rehab and stay steady and focused on working towards recovery. A broken bone will often heal stronger than it was before it was broken as the new bone grows to heal. There is inspiration in this recovery from our wounds if we let it take place.

 
Wools

[Harri]

Hi wools.  Thanks for putting this post out in the open and allowing yourself to be so vulnerable. 

We will always have scars and weak spots associated with our pasts.  Healing, to me, is learning to carry them with grace.  I think you are doing that.

 

[CollectedChaos]

Congrats to you, wools, for allowing yourself to go through the often difficult process of "seeing" your past self and what you were enduring.  I think that's a really important part of healing and you deserve major kudos on being strong enough to face it.

We will always have scars and weak spots associated with our pasts.  Healing, to me, is learning to carry them with grace.

I love this, Harri, so well put.  That's how I look at healing as well.  If I can accept my scars and continue forward with life without them weighing me down and keeping me from functioning at the level I desire, I call that a success.  Some days I feel closer to that than others!

[Skip]

We will always have scars and weak spots associated with our pasts.  Healing, to me, is learning to carry them with grace.  I think you are doing that.

Nicely said... .

[Woolspinner2000]

Harri,

We will always have scars and weak spots associated with our pasts.  Healing, to me, is learning to carry them with grace.  I think you are doing that.

Thank you, very much. I think I should make a wall poster out of that thought. 

Funny... .the Model A I inherited from my dad which came to my home last summer, she needed a name. After much thought, I figured out her name: Grace. Much grace has been given to me.

 
Wools

[Harri]

Thanks for the props guys!  That is something I strive toward but forget often and then I sometimes try to embrace it with an iron grip all the while screaming 'with grace dammit!  Graaace!'  It takes practice 

So Wools, you have a model A!  How exciting!  Ca you drive her or is she garaged? 

[Woolspinner2000]

She's a work in progress.  Ha! That's funny because it's just like me, like all of us here! 
Took her on a maiden voyage around the Cul-de-sac 2 months after she came 'home' to my place on Father's Day. One month to get her running, one more to get her driving, well, roughly speaking. Not sure how we managed to stop or turn the steering wheel with everything locked up tight with 50 plus years of sitting. But there's grace in that too, the knowledge that she's going to be who she is, and I will have much joy in being able to ride in my dad's car. She's garaged right now til it gets warmer, and we can start working on her again.

Back to my 15 year old, last night I was briefly telling a safe friend a few snippets about that time of my life. Oh it was tough because her reaction was one of shock. I could feel my 15 year old self cringing and wanting to disappear because suddenly I'm faced with the reality that no, my life then was definitely not normal at all. I didn't know that just the sharing, however brief, would be so tough with a close friend. When I write here on the board, I can't see anyone's face so I don't see the shock register. Guess that helps us all to feel a bit safer, doesn't it? Sighs. It's such a journey.

Wools

 

[DaddyBear77]

I could feel my 15 year old self cringing and wanting to disappear because suddenly I'm faced with the reality that no, my life then was definitely not normal at all. I didn't know that just the sharing, however brief, would be so tough with a close friend. When I write here on the board, I can't see anyone's face so I don't see the shock register. Guess that helps us all to feel a bit safer, doesn't it? Sighs. It's such a journey.

Wools, you're exactly right - this is a journey. I think it's a journey back to a path that we thought we were on, maybe, but then realized we weren't. We have to open our eyes and our hearts to first, figure out we're not where we thought we were, and then, figure out how to get back to where we wanted to be.

You didn't see it, but our faces DID change. The thing about being here is that, for many of us, it's a familiar story, so it may not be so much "shock" but understanding and connection.

My last thought is, a huge part of coping with childhood trauma is normalizing it, rationalizing it, and allowing our brains to believe that what we're experiencing is normal. It's repeated over and over again in so many contexts in our lives and in society in general. It's when we wake up our minds to the idea that things weren't normal that we can take that journey to the place we want to be.

I'm so glad you had that experience with your close friend. I hope it takes you another big step in your journey. 

[Woolspinner2000]

There definitely are changes going on inside of me since I first began really hearing 15 yr old Wools speak a few weeks ago. Every day now I'm aware of her. Especially at night when I go to bed and it's a bit cooler in the house (we turn the heat down a few degrees at night), I feel as if I am back in my old house. There's something about the cool night air obviously that triggers reminders. I can close my eyes and see those blankets moving as the wind blows through the windows. It's the sense of being cold, and my body remembers more than I ever knew. Lately I've been warming up a microwave heat pack and using it on the sore muscles in my shoulders, and when I tucked it in bed with me, suddenly I had this wonderful sense of comfort, and the realization entered my mind that I was no longer cold. I told my 15 yr old self that we weren't cold anymore which helped to reinforce to her that we weren't living in that old house anymore. It was more than just being physically warm. It was soul deep comfort that wrapped around me.

I also struggle with some C-ptsd coming into play at night. I swear that I hear noises downstairs when I put my head down on my pillow. It's the night noises which cause me to tense up from the reflexive reaction of hearing my parents fighting downstairs (or in the case of my 15 year old, the next room). I sit up in my bed and know that no one is down there making the noises, but my mind plays tricks and once again, I have to tell my little ones that we are safe. It's not every night, just those when I'm hypervigilant (which in reality is many nights).

I also am finding a strong sense of the urge to fight for myself and my little ones and what is right emerging. My T pointed out that one of the four 'f's is coming out in a positive way (fight, flight, fawn, freeze). I have rarely ever experienced any of the fight mode coming out throughout my entire life. Pete Walker in his book Complex CPTSD says we can "use your fight, flight, freeze and fawn instincts in healthy and non-self-destructive ways." What a strange concept indeed!   To think that any of the four f's can be used healthily!

I had a bad dream one night this week, but even in the distortion of the dream I was saying, "That's enough! I deserve to be treated right!" Can hardly believe that even in my dreams this sense of right is coming out. My co-workers often say how sweet and kind I am. It's such a foreign concept to have an ounce of fight in me, and I'm sure it is from the reconnecting with my 15 year old. Perhaps she had more spunk than I ever knew even when she couldn't do anything but feel trapped.

[Turkish]

Lil' Wools had to have spunk to survive,  yes?

I believe your co-workers 

My ex used to accuse me of being too nice.

I think that whatever you do,  don't let others trash your kindness. Doesn't mean that you can't stand up yourself when necessary.  Like TR said,  "speak softly but carry a big stick."
 
I can relate to the cold. It's why I hate the snow.

[zachira]

It is so hard to be in a slump plagued by difficult memories. I was wondering if you are familiar with the difference between traumatic memories and normal memories. Normal memories are memories you can decide to visit when you choose to, and do not suddenly overwhelm you with flashbacks, nightmares, uncomfortable body sensations, etc., Traumatic memories are like a hanging file, that can show up at any time. Traumatic memories need to be processed, so that they go into a normal memories file, so that they no longer suddenly overwhelm you with painful unsettling feelings. There are many ways to process traumatic memories, though nearly all involve mindfulness, being present in the moment, until the uncomfortable feelings about the memory start to fade, and more positive feelings surface. When there are many painful memories to process, it can be overwhelming. From reading your postings, you have been on this journey a long time, and as you keep going, it is only going to get better. I hope this post is helpful and it is how you would like us to respond to your posting. Please let us know what is helpful, and what really doesn't help. Take care, and keep us updated, as we all are learning from you as we follow you on this challenging yet hopeful journey!

[Woolspinner2000]

Once again I want to thank all of you for your responses! They are each good, thoughtful, and encouraging.

Zachira, I hadn't ever stopped to ponder the difference between the two types of memories. That makes a lot of sense. As I look back to the traumatic memories I have processed over time, they've gotten much easier and so much less powerful and painful. That in itself is surprising, but somehow I knew it was because I took the memories, went towards them, and processed them. I believe that's what you are saying. How thankful I am that this does indeed happen and allow us to move on and move forward.

I also find it very interesting how our mind protects us from the traumatic memories until we are ready to work through them. Yes, your post and thoughts are fine! Have you had your own memories coming back now that you've been facing the fact that your mom is most likely BPD? How is your process coming?

 
Wools (who gets to go visit her grandkids this weekend)

[Pina colada]

Thank you for your heartfelt story.  My T has never mentioned inner child therapy but maybe some day... .So interesting how your sand filled frog brought you back to time when life was just not fair... .You are so strong and continue to be an inspiration to all of us!

[zachira]

I am glad the information on memories helped and you are able to process painful memories and feel better. I admire your courage, and compassion for others.  I feel so sorry when people suffer for years and years with terrible flashbacks, nightmares, uncomfortable body sensations, with no relief. EMDR is what really helped me to put most of my terrible symptoms to rest most of the time. Thank you for asking about how I am dealing with my family crisis. My crisis over Christmas was one of the worst things that ever happened to me, yet I did not have an episode of depression. I would sometimes find my mind falling into depression for a few fleeting seconds and then coming back to baseline. This is the first crisis that I was able to handle without being depressed or having my daily functioning seriously compromised. I feel this is due to all the hard work I have done: massage, acupuncture, physical therapy, yoga, stretching, meditation, EMDR, regular talk therapy, support from this site, establishing better boundaries with self and others, etc., What I want to say with all this is, there is really hope that we can have a happy life, and be free of so much time spent in pain, if we are willing to do the hard work of facing our pain, which isn't easy  at first, as facing the pain can be overwhelming. Keep us posted on how you are doing!

[Fie]

Hi Wools,


I wish my 15 year old self would have been able to sit with your 15 year old self. To take a little of your loneliness away. I would have been happy to share some moments with you in your cold room, just to let you know you are not alone and there are people who do care because they understand and they also felt lonely.   

I do know your are in a much better place now, and like all of the others here I do admire you for your strength and also your wisdom. Your power to confront yourself with your memories. Not everyone is able to.  On the other hand, please, don't think you have to be powerful always. You are allowed to have moments of weakness, and even a lot of them. You are allowed to feel every emotion possible. You are not your 15 year old self anymore, who had to keep it together until she finally could leave home.  You can be as weak as you want to.

Thinking of you xxx

[Woolspinner2000]

I thought I would update you all on how my journey is going. Just when I thought my 15 year old was settling a bit, she has reminded me that she still has much to say!

One of the things I've done since I last posted was to purchase an electric blanket for my bed (my T suggested it). The first night when I crawled into a warm bed... .well it was beyond words! Something happened where not only did I not feel cold physically, but all thoughts of being back in that cold space as a 15 year old were gone, and they were replaced by something else. There was sense of comfort and warmth for my whole body, and I cannot put into words what it felt like because it was so much more than being physically warm. I look for something to compare it to in my word or feeling bank, and there is nothing. It is a new experience for me. I've slept under an electric blanket before, but I've never had a need to be warm connected to healing the trauma of my past.  Every time I use the electric blanket, it is a new place for me to be emotionally where there is no trauma.

Over the past weekend I had a few emotional triggers at home with my DH. I'm far enough along in my T to recognize that not all of my responses have to do with him; some have to do with my past. It's important to figure out what is mine to own and what is not. As I looked back in my memory, there were many reminders of my childhood, such as when he spoke defining words: "I know you don't like this."  I don't? Who told you that? Can you read my mind?  My mom was an expert at telling me what I was, who I was, and as so many of us know, we had no thoughts or feelings of our own. So when I looked back to find out where my reactions were coming from, I had this sudden new memory of being about 15 or 16 and my mom coming out into the kitchen where I was. Within the context of that memory I was once again back at that age, and in the present I was responding similarly as well. In other words it was a similar situation in the present that brought back the memories of the past, triggering my hyper vigilance and flight mechanisms. 

I remembered that if I sat down to be quiet, my uBPDm would say that if I wasn't busy, she'd find something to keep me busy-and I always, always had to be busy as a result. Over this past weekend I took time to merely sit and be quiet in the sunshine by my green plants and enjoy a cup of tea for a few minutes. That's when I remembered what my mom had said. Next to me was laying a quilt I inherited. I needed to hand stitch the edge on to it, but I was just sitting, and it was lovely. Then along comes DH. When he walked into the room, I felt my anxiety rise just because he was there, not because he was doing anything by being there. We didn't engage much, there was no unkindness, but my body responded with anxiety because I subconsciously expected him to tell me I had to do something. I have had to remind myself that DH is not my uBPDm.

Sometimes I find myself being so much more aware of her, my 15 year old, than I was before. At times I feel little, and that is a sure sign of flashing back. Other times I feel as if I am really integrating, becoming whole. Then other times I feel my anger kindle, righteously, and I know it is coming from her, the one who is tired of being taken advantage of. I don't always know what to do with these new emotions and responses. Mostly I'm just riding them out to see where they go, and I am doing my best to listen to her. I'm not very skilled at it yet, and sometimes I know by the sudden fatigue in my body that I missed a trigger.  Learning to listen to the signals can be tough and a challenge, but with time I think I'll learn how to manage it better.

Fie, your words were so touching. I could not respond right away because they made me want to cry. And also to Zachira and Turkish, you are constantly encouraging me. Pina colada, you have a great adventure ahead of you when it is the right time to begin to explore your inner ones.  It truly is another step of the healing journey, one not to be afraid of. Remember everyone is at a different stage at different times, and each journey is unique. CollectedChaos, thank you for reminding me that I am strong.

 
Wools

[heartandwhole]

Wools, this is really great work you are doing. I can imagine how that electric blanket rejuvenated you inside. I'm so glad that you did that for yourself, and let yourself drink your tea without having to get something done. I think being productive has been so ingrained for many of us. Sometimes I think, "we are all going to die, what the heck is the big deal?" Hope that doesn't sound morbid    I mean it in a big picture way.

Thank you for continuing to share your journey, as it inspires me to remember to listen to my "little heart," who can be so quiet that she is easy to ignore in favor of more pressing matters (ha!). 

heartandwhole 

[Harri]

Hi Wools!  I felt so warm inside reading your update.  It is so interesting to see that a blanket can cause such peace and healing for you.  And the frog!  Can't forget him. 

It is great to see you standing up for yourself.  Have you tried letting your 15 year old write or draw a picture for you?  Sometimes it is easier to see what they want to say.  I wonder what kind of story your 15 year old would write?  One where she can don a superhero cape and take care of her oppressors?  Or maybe a fantasy world where she (the 15 year old) is surrounded by people who love and cherish her the way her parents were never able.  Just wondering out loud with you.

I am so glad you have posted and shared this here and I look forward to hearing more of your adventure with getting to know and integrate all your little woolies!

 

[Speck]

This is such a fantastic thread, Wools. Thank you so much for sharing your story. It's amazing the rich memories a little, bean-bag stuffed frog has conjured up for you, and I admire your tenacity, strength, and bravery for working with them.

This is important work.


-Speck