...angles & perspectives...

My scarlet letter of shame...

Sunday, December 01, 2013

It's beautiful outside today...first main snowfalls of the season and there is a pure yet rugged feel to it all. The snow is cradled in puffs by the tree branches but every so often, when the tree can no longer bear the weight of the snow, the branch gives a little tug and releases the snow.

I'm inspired by this view. It's been a productive few weeks since my last post - I feel I have momentum on my side and I'm loathe to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. There have been a number of "Aha!" moments as well as acceptance that have aided immensely in uncovering my authentic self.

Shame is a topic I've been exploring and for me, this is a topic that I found most difficult to voice. I know my shame, I cradle it like precious cargo. I've also treated it like a companion or something comforting like tea and cookies. And all the feelings that arise with my shame, I've kept them locked in a vault. And so this past month, I have faced them through visual exercises - drawings, post-it notes plastered against my wall, and in my journal writing. It's often been a confusing and anxiety ridden experience. I have a number of records that I play on my broken record player inside my head that make it hard for me to really see and uncover the truth. Here are some of my top ten records:

"I'm broken. I'm damaged."
"I'm not worthy of love."
"I'm only worth a secret and pussy."
"This isn't true love. It's just a game."
"I have to work hard and prove myself because I'm not good enough."
"I'm not desirable. I'm ugly."
"I have to stay in control."
"I'm a bad person."
"I'm invisible."
"Don't let the secrets out...let the world think I am OK."

All my past abuse and rape experiences are my shame, but the result of one of the past experiences deeply affects me still and it's a secret I've buried deeply for a long time.

Secret Reveal #5: I am not disease-free.

18 years ago - He was my first sexual partner and as a young woman, I was both naive and ignorant. I was self-conscious and lacked the confidence to stay firm about what I wanted, one of which was safe sex. I thought saying "NO!" would be sufficient enough and that he would listen to me. But when I didn't play along with what HE wanted, he would become aggressive, and that night was no different...he pinned me down and was deaf to my pleas. The result - I ended up going to the campus clinic and the doctor diagnosed me with genital herpes a week later. I was mortified. I was shocked. I was angry. I was hurt. I was ashamed. When she asked me if I knew who and how I had contracted the virus, I replied in matter-of-fact tone and described what happened. She asked me if I wanted to speak with a counselor and I said, "No thank you. I'll be all right." In hindsight, I wish the doctor had been more persistent and insist I speak with someone about my experience. Back then, friends said I should have reported him and the date-rape to campus police. I wish I had listened and acted on all their advice. But I couldn't. The chains of shame already claimed me as a prisoner.

Present - I shared this shame with the women of my therapy group last week - it is my scarlet letter. It felt good to release the weight...like the branches releasing the snow. Their compassion and support was truly appreciated in helping me face this shame aloud. And in acknowledging the shame and secret, it's given back a piece of myself. And hope.

healing journey

Introducing Hewey...

Sunday, November 17, 2013

anger

There's a Hole in my Sidewalk

Sunday, November 03, 2013

By the fall of 2012, I had started seeing a second counselor and my sessions were going well. I was learning to open up and share things more readily. I was learning what my triggers were. I was learning to deal with my hyper-vigilance. I opened up about my feelings of being out of control. But I was having difficulty accepting the healing process, as well as accepting that there was no clear path to thriver status. The more I tried to move forward, the more frustrated I was with my progress. So during one of my sessions, my counselor shared a poem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There's a hole in my sidewalk, by Portia Nelson

Chapter One
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.

Chapter Two
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

Chapter Three
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter Four
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter Five
I walk down another street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem appears in the publication There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery by Portia Nelson. In revisiting this poem for this post, I was struck with the realization that I've been repeating Chapter One and Chapter Two for a greater part of my life. There's a stupid detour sign on my "runway of life" that keeps me looping around "Repeat Road". In my session this past week, my counselor had me read the poem out loud over and over and over again...and I became overwhelmed with emotion. Over the years, as part of my survival tactic I've maintained a calm numbness. But in this session, I was surprised at how much bitterness and anger I carried within myself.

1. The Hole:
Falling into the same hole in the sidewalk is my way of self-sabotaging my progress. It's become a "comfortable state of being"...this dark place is familiar to me...blended into my identity. As comfortable and familiar this place is...the truth of the matter is I HATE this place! It sucks! And even more, I hate how I've made this place so comfortable.

2. I pretend I don't see it / I can't believe I'm in the same place:
I've become very adept at justifying things, disassociating from myself and situations, which are all simply a means of avoidance and denial. But when I'm forced to confront the situation, the result is an ANGRY DISBELIEF. And the more I repeat the cycles of Chapter One and Two, the more the bitterness swells within which has been simmering for years. And I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for falling back into the same hole.

3. It isn't my fault / It is my fault:
The child abuse, the date rape and the rape - I have always readily blamed myself for letting each incident happen. No matter how many times people would tell me "It isn't your fault", I couldn't and still have difficulty believing otherwise. But when the healing process is self-sabotaged, when I fail at losing weight, when I fail at opening up to a potential relationship - I don't take ownership, I don't hold myself accountable. This also makes me angry at myself because logically, I know it should be the reverse - the rape isn't my fault, but my self-sabotaging ways are.

4. It's a habit:
I'm generally the type of person who tries to fix things. The notion of walking around the hole or walking down another street without a hole hasn't sunk in. I'm still trying to fix the hole...either by trying to fill the hole (represented by eating my emotions) or using a wooden plank as a bridge to cross the hole (but I lack the mental and emotional balance, so I keep falling in). But this also makes me angry as I've come to realize I've wasted so much of my energy and my time trying to "fix" the damn hole!

Recognizing and acknowledging my anger is something very new to me. The way I've dealt with anger in the past has been to remain silent, maintain a calm and cool exterior, never letting the ugliness of anger erupt. But I'm learning this isn't productive...the way I have been trying to manage and control my anger is eating away at me inside and taking up too much space. Someone recently talked about recognizing their anger and how they have learned to channel its energy and power. I would like to learn to do the same, and learn to express it in a healthier and productive way.

During moments like this, I look to other women who have struggled as a victim, conquered as a survivor and demonstrated what it means to be a thriver. Madonna recently revealed her own rape experience, her other struggles early in her career and how it made her feel, which you can read in the October 2013 Harper's BAZAAR Magazine:

"...But it was hard and it was lonely, and I had to dare myself every day to keep going. Sometimes I would play the victim and cry in my shoe box of a bedroom...And I wondered if it was all worth it, but then I would pull myself together and look at a postcard of Frida Kahlo taped to my wall, and the sight of her mustache consoled me. Because she was an artist who didn't care what people thought. I admired her. She was daring. People gave her a hard time. Life gave her a hard time. If she could do it, then so could I."

This and other experiences in her life has shaped her raison d'être: "If I can't be daring in my work or the way I live my life, then I don't really see the point of being on this planet."

I find strength in her words...in her enduring belief and choice to dare. I believe this may be my way out from my own anger and to move onto the next chapter of The Hole in My Sidewalk. Because if Madonna can do it, then so could I.

healing journey

I see man as...

Saturday, October 26, 2013

No profound secrets to reveal in this post. Just feeling reflective and wanting to explore.

Of late, I've been thinking back to one of my crisis sessions from a year ago. We did a simple exercise where my counsellor would start a sentence and I had to complete it with the first thought that came to mind. It was a verbal exercise so I don't have a record of my responses. I found the exercise difficult, drawing a blank or feeling blocked with the majority of the sentences. Except for one.

"I see man as...a little boy."

That phrase stuck with me. On the bus ride home that day, I kept repeating the sentence over and over and over again. Why did I respond this way? I texted one of my friends and asked her to finish the phrase and she came up with "I see man as...a rock...something stable, protective and reliable."

My romantic self agreed...that's the way I wanted to answer...to be able to see man as something solid, someone I could lean into, and someone who will shield me. But my impulse was still to see man as a little boy:

a little boy can't hurt me
a little boy is innocent
a little boy is giving and kind
a little boy is lovable
a little boy is beautiful

A little boy...there is no risk of feeling vulnerable, intimidated, or humiliated. There is no risk of feeling powerless or paralyzed. In a little boy, I see the hope and potential of an honourable and loving man who he will one day become. With a little boy, I have no fear...oddly, I feel safe. On the flip side, I see myself as a woman who is the nurturer, the protector, the provider, the mother.

But I don't want a relationship with a little boy (I do want a boy, a child...but that's a future blog subject). I want a relationship with a man...a rock, a mutual partner. This skewed perception is one of my barriers that I need to overcome, and to be able to move beyond the distrust that I feel about myself and of men. I've challenged myself to not only spend more time with my male friends, but to openly communicate with them as well on how I feel about relationships, my past and what I'm going through. As I do, I work through the feelings that arise. My male friends help me to look beyond the old negative set of impressions I have about myself and men. They are the same things my female friends have expressed to me, but in the current space I occupy, hearing it from my male friends means that much more. It restores my faith that I thought lost - that not all men are assholes. I'm still working on setting the boundaries so that I don't improperly validate my sense of self. With each step, I also work on being honest with myself - I acknowledge my feelings and I work on sharing and being transparent about how I feel.

These days, the form of a little boy is transforming, and the outline of man is becoming clearer. I'd like to think it's a work in progress...

healing journey

Victim, Survivor, Thriver...which one am I?

Sunday, October 20, 2013

This post has been percolating and brewing in my thoughts since the inception of this blog. I haven't been able to articulate what it is I want to say...so I write, edit and delete this post each time I sit in front of my computer. Perhaps I'm just not ready to say what it is I want to say...but I push forward hoping that in writing, things will reveal itself.

The Internet is a fascinating and vast place. I believe there are a number of people who have queried words and phrases in search of answers. I know I do. I have this innate need to understand, to decipher, to unravel, to find...something, anything...that will help make sense of things, especially now more than ever. I can't remember what compelled me to google "child abuse" and "rape", but one night, I landed on the HAVOCA website. On their homepage was a table with the title "From Victim to Survivor to Thriver" by Barbara Whitfield. Initially, when I read that title, I had already labelled myself a Survivor...after all, I was self-aware of my secrets and situation, and I had my "Type A" personality working on my behalf to ensure that my life was in control.

As I read through the Victim column, my head and heart began to spin. My inner ME began to silently scream, "Yes, yes, yes! That's how I feel...that's what I do...THAT'S HOW I SEE MYSELF!"

There is truly nothing more humbling as an experience as when you face your shining honest self, and "denial" hurriedly scurries back into the shadows. It was one of the most powerful moments in my life, the night I faced the hidden secret I kept from myself.

Secret Reveal #4: I am still a Victim
Some of the statements/phrases that resonated with me:

I don't deserve nice things,
hyper vigilant,
damaged,
confused & numbness,
overwhelmed by the past,
my stories/secrets stay hidden,
I place my own needs last.

This revelation stunned me and yet, I also felt a sense of liberation. I realized, for the past two decades, I had NEVER acknowledged to myself that I am/was a Victim. I was so desperate to continue with my life and to project the impression that I was OK. I got caught up with the idea of "I am a Survivor" that I convinced myself that's who I was. In doing so, I skipped a number of important steps in my healing process.

The chart certainly shed a lot of light into my own personal motivations, my behaviour in relationships and my approach to life. But more importantly, it helped straighten the view and perceptions I had about myself that was created over 20 years ago...and hence, the re-writing of my personal narrative begins with this acceptance. I have yet to reach true Survivor status...I am striving for it, and with the help of my counsellor and now my group therapy sessions, I know I am well on my way towards that goal.