Healing seems foreign to me. What will I look like after? Is there really an after or just a continuation? Is a line drawn in the sand as to say when I have healed?
My friend has a similar story to me, and I would have never known unless I shared my story with her. She is one of those warm, loving, out-going amazing women that I am blessed to call my friend. How can she be like that after all we’ve been through? So I asked her, how did you get past all of what happened? She said God. She put her faith that God was watching out for her and helped guide her, change her perspective. She said fully surrendering herself to God gave her peace.
I want that. I want peace.
God is not the answer for me. I love that she has introduced me to him and lets me tag along as the third wheel. But we will never be BFF’s like that. I can’t surrender myself like that. Or at least I don’t think I can. You never know right? I see the appeal of God. I enjoy going to church and listening to the teachings of that day. It’s amazing how on point each lesson is, the first day she brought me, was the absolute perfect message for me. I cried. Guys… you heard that right. I cried standing next to other people! OK ok…no one actually knew I was crying as it was dark in there and the band was playing but I still did it. And it felt good.
It felt right. A week after I did a terrible thing and at that point couldn’t reconcile that I was a good person. How can a good person hurt their Andrew? That message gave me hope. Gave me hope that even if I was a bad person, I could change. I could be a good person again.
If I am being honest, which I mean I clearly have no shame right now. I’ve never felt like a good person. I try to help friends out when needed, I hold doors open for others, I try to smile at strangers, I recycle. I do all the normal “good person” things. But deep down I’ve always felt selfish. I can’t explain why really.
Except when I remember one time we were on vacation and I was sitting outside in a lounge chair reading my book in the sun. Something I did often there. Everyone was still inside having breakfast and coffee. I hear people moving about but I don’t think anything of it. All of a sudden, My mom starts yelling at me to come inside. The angry mom yell. When I get in I am immediately scolded for being outside while everyone else is working. Do you want to grow up to be selfish like Carolyn?! (Carolyn is my oldest brother’s wife. She is nice and quiet and very much misunderstood in the Anderson Family. Honestly, no one ever tried to understand her, they chose to be mean and talk about her behind her back all the time.) Whenever Carolyn is in town she sits in a chair and reads all weekend, barely engaging with anyone. I totally see the appeal now.
Anyway, I am taken back by this comment. I didn’t know I was being selfish. I was reading my book, if someone needed my help all they had to do was ask right?
I think to myself; Amanda, you did hear people moving around! You should have known to come up!
Now anytime I think I’m being selfish, I think back to that day. And I try to change, be hyper aware of those around me and what I can do to help them.
Why do the words of my Mom change the perception of myself so easily? Why do I let her have such control over how I see myself?
Therapist I need help!
Therapist and I haven’t gotten there yet but I’ll put it on the list of things.
At this point in time I have only been seeing Therapist for 3 months. We got to know each other, I told her my story, which evolved everytime I told it. Finding a new piece to add. An AH HA! moment. Thinking I solved the mystery of how I got here again. Thinking for at least a month that I’ve nailed this healing thing, I feel fantastic, no need for medication here, I’m all better!
She really is a saint.
We are just about to the scary part. Processing my traumas. EEEKKK. What scares me most about this is:
1. Not understanding my traumas and how exactly processing them will help.
2. What if I can’t process them correctly? It’s been years… I don’t think I feel anything when I think of them anymore.
3. Doing it alone.
Being alone this time is hard. I don’t want to be alone for once in my life. I want to be part of people’s lives. Have connections, real connections. But I am alone for 2 reasons.
1. I hurt A and he left me and won’t speak to me or read my story.
2. COVID quarantine.
What a time to pick for a mental breakdown AMANDA! Not only am I alone, but I am not allowed to go anywhere, see anyone or do anything but sit alone in my house with my thoughts. If you do venture outside you are supposed to stay 6’ away from others at all times. Old Amanda would have loved this! I don’t have to come up with an excuse to not go somewhere. “Oops sorry…COVID, can’t make it.” lol Even Gus is sick of my antics, my silly songs about the sunshine. My awkward dances. My presence during his nap time, which is all the time. Every day is Groundhog’s day. And I HATE that movie.
But back to processing trauma, we can’t do the EMDR that she wants to do because of COVID as well, so I’m forced to just talk about it. Out loud. Thankfully it’s a video call and I can fidget, avert my eyes and move around awkwardly from the safety of my own office. It’s kind of better this way than sitting in her office. I like her office, but sitting on the couch, only being able to shake my leg when I’m nervous is almost unbearable. Let alone that fact that she’s less than 4’ away at all times. There are not a lot of places to look where she isn’t. So I’m thankful for these calls.
And I am thankful for this quarantine. Some days are super hard. Today is one of them. But having the space to cry in the middle of the day, get up and go for a run every morning, make healthy meals, sit outside while I work…and most importantly learn to pull myself back up from a bad day, makes it worth it. If I was in the office everyday, I think this would be much harder. There would be a lot of noise distracting my mind, which means I’d sit still. Stagnant. Until something jarred me again.
For once in my life I feel like everything will be ok. Like deep down in my soul ok. Remember where I used to keep my sadness? Yea that place feels ok.
That if I lose my job, it’s ok, everyone is right now. I have a few plans in place if it happens. I paid off all my bills from my 401K, refinanced my house and have an emergency fund for once. I will be ok. It might even be an adventure.
That even though A won’t talk to me, it feels like it will be ok one day. Maybe I’m delusional but it feels like my family will be put back together. I probably am crazy for that one. But I’ll never lose hope because I know how good we could be.
If he would just read my story! Geesh. It’s not THAT long. There are a lot of spaces! And it has a lot of good insights into my mind. While he may never love me again, he can at least understand me.
Being understood is the other thing I crave.
My friends all said the same thing after they read my story the first time. “You make so much more sense to me now.” That made my heart happy. All I’ve ever craved my whole life is someone to understand me. See why I am the way I am so I could maybe quit trying to be someone else. Quit trying and failing to be like other people. I’m not other people.
I am unique.
I’ve been called that a few times, by different people. Years apart.
Anyway back to healing and COVID.
I get so nervous before every session. Last week I drank a small glass of wine beforehand. I know, I know… Anderson’s and their alcohol. It was day 1 of talking out loud about my traumas. I was a hot mess, the medications made me sad, the anxiety made my mind swirl and the alcohol made my face hot.
It was perfect. lol
To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about it. I remember being super fidgety. I remember being matter of fact with my tone and recollection of my memories. Or guarded as Therapist says. I remember looking at my feet. A LOT. I remember being definite in saying my thoughts about telling my Mom were truth. You don’t know her…this is not a normal Mom. And I remember wanting to cry when she reminded me that what happened was not OK. For validating my feelings again. I’m still not good at this crying in front of people thing, that one will take awhile.
Chasing Calm 