Just when I think I’m all done…Since it has been a little over three years, for some reason, I think my healing should be complete. Is this too much to ask for? I’ve worked really hard. I did I intense therapy (EMDR) for 14 months; I’ve read and reread (okay, actually I’ve listened and listened again, since I still have some trouble reading a book) books designed to help me through the trauma, and really, life in general; I workout again on a regular basis; I write about my experiences each week; I feel really good, for the most part. Oh, I have my moments, but they are few and far between. So why, oh why, is my body still hanging onto the muscle memory of my attack?
I am unable to walk, as in my working out walk, near the Hotel Del without a physical reaction. Usually this means that when I get too close, my back starts hurting. The really weird thing is I do yoga on Thursdays and Sundays practically in front of the Del, and that isn’t a problem. I can even go inside the hotel without a response, but if I walk anywhere near it, my body seems to think I’m still in some kind of danger. It is beyond frustrating. Do I have to walk by the Del? No, but this is not a huge island and not being able to walk on that side of it definitely limits where I can walk. More importantly, how can I get my body to understand that I am safe? That proximity to where my attack happened does not mean it is going to happen again. Or is this something that I will just have to live with for the rest of my life? Is this really my new normal?
And as if the physical aspect of this isn’t enough…last Saturday at my Hoffman gathering, during one of the visualizations, up came my attack. This was quite a surprise as with this particular tool, it is usually a scene from childhood that comes up. No such luck. And whereas I normally cannot see the patterns I am still hanging onto, I clearly saw and understood what they are this time. Rats! Even more distressing was the second time we did the visualization, I got the same dang scene. That really threw me. After we complete the elevators, we pair off to discuss them. I simply did not wish to go into it with my partner. It was nothing personally against him, but he is a guy, and a guy is the reason for my attack, so I chose to let him tell his scenes and I kept quiet about mine. Because I am usually more forthcoming at these gatherings, the facilitator was a little curious as to why I did not want to share with my partner. In the end, I ended up sharing it, to a degree, with the entire group. Again, it wasn’t anything personal, but it was such a shock that it came up this way and I wanted time to think about it on my own.
So what have I thought about since Saturday? Honestly, not much. It seems that the memories come and go and I, apparently, have no real control over them. I know that I want, more than anything, to be completely over my attack. And maybe this is just unrealistic. Do we ever totally get over the traumatic events of our lives? Or is it more of a fading of the memories over time? In the scheme of things, three years really isn’t that long. It feels like it is, but, really, it just isn’t. It feels like I’ve been dealing with this forever. I just want to feel good again. Like, really good, in mind, body and spirit. I don’t think this is too much to ask.
If this is my new normal, (and just what is normal?), then, perhaps an attitude adjustment of sorts is in order. What I’ve done, and continue to do, is what has gotten me to this point, and I think I am on the right track, so I just need to keep on keeping on, trusting that I’ll be finished with my healing when I’m finished with my healing. There is no rushing it, as much as I’d like to, and as much as I keep trying to. Clearly, that is not working. And the truth is, I am much better able to deal with the mental aspects of this far better than the physical ones. (After I finished my therapy and then five days later my back went out, I realized that I’d rather have to do another 14 months of intense mental work than have physical pain. That, I am really not good at handling.) As far as my body goes, I know I just need to keep moving it. I need to feed it good, clean food. I need to do my best to stay away from the things that make me feel worse, like my old friend sugar. I do so well for a time, and then I fall off that sugar wagon. Again. Right now, I am half on, half off, which I guess is better than completely on, but not nearly as good as completely off. Working on it, though. Every day. And getting used to the idea that this is my normal now, and that’s okay. It is what it is.