The Sandbox

Amnesia, Art, Healing

12/23/16

7:36AM

Authenticity

I did something unwise and self destructive last night for unknown reasons. 

After six months of making sure I looked at nothing Eileen related online…last night…around 11pm…I looked. 

It was like clicking on every link below my narrative at once. Chaos. Pain. A desire to take myself out. The most painful piece, again, the daughter. A photo of her with Eileen—in Eileen’s arms after the election. She ran to her in between teaching her yoga trauma classes to collapse in her arms and feel protected. 

I guess that was…interesting. 

A photo of this daughter lecturing successfully on her trauma work. Making a name for herself, getting famous from all of it. 

And it brought up for me these feelings that I’ve failed myself.

That I never really coming out into the world about what happened to me. 

In that therapy. 

And long ago. 

No me on a podium talking about it all. 

A

It’s one thing to know our story. Another to share it. You spoke in therapy of raising yourself—does any of this relate to what happened last night in being so intensely triggered?

S

I immediately felt alone and needing help. I wanted to get up and text or write to Teresa. But I used everything I had inside to calm me down. 

A

What worked? Anything?

S

I created this mantra…it was went something like this…you need to pretend that she is dead. Not exactly poetic but it, for whatever reason, it worked like a lullaby to finally put me out. 

A

Your mind kept approaching paths of confrontation with Eileen—in writing—in person. Seeing her dead stops the mind in its tracks from this. 

S

Yeah. I guess that’s right. 

A

Do you think you wanted to test yourself—to see if we are done with the Eileen piece—healed up from it? 

S

I think maybe yes. 

MLG

And our answer?

S

As I lay in bed, wanting to just end it all, I felt so…despondent. One step forward—

MLG

—a million two hundred thousand four hundred steps back. 

S

I felt as if I’d been sober for six months, fell off the wagon and needed to start all over again. Except…this is not the same thing. It’ s about healing—trying desperately to heal—and testing myself—getting up on the formerly broken leg—only to see that I still can’t walk. 

A

That’s correct. This is not about sobriety. It’s about being hurt. And trying to heal. 

S

I see that I’m far from healed—or I feel this way now. Every link in my body clicked and I am in a swirl of darkness. So far from healed, so filled with shame and grief that I prefer to end my life rather than to keep on fighting this battle. 

I felt—I feel—pretty despondent. 

Pretty damn discouraged. 

A

What hurt the most in all of it? 

S

As I sat in bed last night I could see Eileen triggering me in ways still not described or articulated. 

It’s like looking at her stuff online was like me testing a broken bone. I get up and see if I’m healed but..my leg’s still broken—I still can’t walk—the break isn’t even better. 

A

Is there a way for us to get back to the place we were at? On this mountain we climb? Is there a way to not feel such a set back? 

S

Maybe Teresa could help. This would be a way of me letting her help. Seeing if outside help could work. Versus me trying to figure everything out on my own. 

A

What stops you?

S

Maybe this is all a test to see if I could do everything on my own. What if I had no one like Teresa to help me. I’d need to figure it out. 

A

What about Pete?

S

I’m ashamed to tell him how little I’ve progressed. Honestly…I cannot believe how lousy I feel…I cannot believe I’m here. 

A

We can remember a great deal of our trauma with Eileen; those links are easily clicked for us. We do not forget, S. We cannot forget. We remember everything more clearly and with more emotion. It is part of the healing. 

S

I thought triggering would be less intense with more healing. Why is it the opposite. 

A

I don’t know. 

S

You don’t even have answers now. 

A

Perhaps Teresa knows. See if she can help. 

S

Okay.

A

What would make us feel better?

S

To write a book and throw it at Eileen. To somehow be done. But I seem unable to tell, to move on. I feel crippled. 

A

Hang onto this discomfort. It’s our…truth. It will guide us and motivate us, albeit with discomfort, to surface the way we must. 

S

I feel so crippled, A. 

MLG

Crippled is the beginning of being able to walk.

S

I don’t share your optimism, Monkey. I feel so…despondent. 

A

Arms around you, S. If we don’t try walking every now and again we cannot determine where we are at. 

S

Oh Not Gods it hurts. 

A

Ongoing. The work is ongoing. We learn from our exposure last night how painful this work is. We learn not to re-expose ourself but we get confirmation of the pain of being harmed by someone who is supposed to help us. 

It is excruciating to see these unhealed healers in social media touting themselves.

We know the truth. 

We are the truth. 

In the dark, in these nights and mornings after. 

We are the truth. 

S

Oh Not Gods it hurts. I have contacted Teresa and will talk with her later. 

A

Yes.