Tag Archives: healing from sexual assault

A FINE LINE

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I started writing this post last night on my phone.  I only wrote a portion of it because it is a bit of a pain doing it that way.  I need to be able to see the entirety of what I’ve written and that just isn’t possible on a tiny screen.  Reading over what I wrote, though, I think I’ll go in a different direction.  I was going to eventually tie what I wrote last night into what I really want to say, and it would have been a far longer, more complicated essay, so, I’ll leave that for another day.

What I really want to say today is there is a very fine line between teasing and being rude and disrespectful.  I grew up being teased, and though I am not always crazy about it now, I do understand it, and it is familiar.  And, to a point, I am truly okay with it.  However, it simply does not work for me in the ways it used to.  Was it my attack that has made me more sensitive to this?  Is it evolving and changing to a kinder, more loving person in general?  Or is it not being willing to put up with any crap and rudeness of any kind anymore?  It’s probably a combination of all of those things.  And, really, it doesn’t matter what the reason…if I perceive it as something I do not want in my life, I have every right to feel the way that I do, and to do whatever I need to so that it stops.

At the risk of being called overly sensitive and/or ridiculous, I had an incident occur on the 4th of July that upset me.  A LOT.  A little background…I drive an old car.  Her name is Grazelda.  She is a ’96 Volkswagen Golf, the Harlequin edition, which is a multi-colored car.  It is one of the rarest Volkswagens ever made. There are only 70 of my version.  Most people love my car and think it is really cool.  Okay, so she is faded and has some rust on her hatchback.  So what?  The thing is, you do not have to like my car, and, frankly, I don’t give a damn whether you do or not.  What I have an issue with is you telling me that I drive a piece of shit car or that no one wants to be seen riding in it, etc.  Yes, these comments and others like this were made to me on Friday.  The sad thing is they were made by someone I’ve known since I was 18 years old (36 freaking years!) and not for the first time.  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I have two family members that jumped on the let’s-bash-Tamerie’s-car bandwagon.  The seem to think it is cute.  I do not.  Not even a little bit.  And these relatives are not young teenagers or even twenty-somethings; no, they are in their sixties!  Of course, this behavior is nothing new and something I have put up with for as long as I can remember.  I do know they care about me and are just teasing me, and in spite of that, and in spite of my asking that they not do it, they continue to do so.  It makes me not want to go to family functions.

Am I being a big, fat baby about this?  I don’t think so, and even if I am, their behavior lands on me as disrespect.  And that I should not have to tolerate, especially from people in my family.  As for my friend from college, that’s an entirely different story.  And why, would someone please explain to me, are there people who think it’s okay to give me their opinion about my car, especially when it has happened numerous other times, and I have made clear that I do not appreciate nor want to be subjected to it?  To me, this is extremely rude and so uncalled for.   It has been suggested that this is his way of letting me know that he likes me.  Really?  Really?  Grow up.

I have always been a person who stands up for myself.  I have never cared if others like me or not, nor have I cared what they think about me.  If you don’t like me, okay.  I see it as your loss more than anything else.  I would never tell anyone, ANYONE, the things that certain friends and family members feel they have the right to say.  I learned a long time ago that words can never be taken back.  Oh sure, you can apologize for saying something hurtful or mean or down right cruel, BUT you can never take it back.  It can’t be unheard.  Because of this, I am very careful what I say to others, and even more so if I am angry or upset.  I am not sure why others are not as careful.  It seems like such an easy and kind thing to do.

A PAIN IN THE NECK

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Make that a pain in my neck.  Literally.  In this ongoing, seemingly never-ending process of healing from my attack, when most everything has been dealt with and is, if not totally better, pretty dang close, the one thing that is still hanging on is the pain in my neck.  And, for the most part, it’s okay.  But not healed, and this is an issue for me.  As my soon-to-be-gone (moving out-of-state – boo hoo) acupuncturist, Matt Truhan, said a couple of weeks ago, my neck was the first thing injured and it is the last thing my body is hanging onto.  Immediately following my attack, I could not move my head at all.  I had to turn my entire body to look at something behind me.  In time, I was able to move it again.  Two or three months?  I do not remember exactly, but, eventually I was able to move my head without turning my whole body.  And because I was so focused on healing the emotional trauma, my neck was kind of forgotten about.  Or, rather, I just learned to live with the constant pain, and after a while, even though it was, and is, still there, I ceased noticing it. Kind of like the headaches I used to suffer from.  In my daily life, for the most part, I am not aware of it.  In yoga, though, I am very aware.  There are certain postures I simply am unable to do because my neck will not bend or turn.  Even when my teacher says, as we are on our stomachs, ‘turn to your favorite cheek,’ I have to keep my head straight, there is no turning to either side more than just a couple of inches.  Or when we are in a twist and he or she says to bring the head back to center, and mine has been there all along.

So, as a last-ditch effort before he and his wife move to Oregon, Matt has been concentrating on my neck.  It has helped, but I’m not sure it will be all better before he leaves.  Because I do not like massage, he never insisted on working on it before.  Oh, he put needles in it and in other points that correspond to the neck, but the pain and lack of mobility is as much muscle memory as it is real, physical pain, and that makes it much harder to deal with.  The massage, though very painful, has helped some.  This last Tuesday, though, I was exceptionally sore because I had played tennis for the first time in 6 years, and he did insist on a short, Chinese-style massage.  The reason I do not like massage is because I always feel awful afterwards, like for several days.  I agreed because he is so good at his job and I thought, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad.  Wrong.  Not only did it hurt, I felt like crap the rest of the day on Tuesday and still felt yucky yesterday.  I even took an epsom salt bath, which I dislike almost as much as massage.  Today, I feel almost normal, whatever that is.  And when I say I feel almost normal, I mean from the ill-effects of the massage, not my neck.

The dictionary on my computer defines whiplash as:
whiplash |ˈ(h)wipˌlaSH|
noun
1 [ usu. in sing. ] the lashing action of a whip: figurative : he cringed before the icy whiplash of Curtis’s tongue.
• the flexible part of a whip or something resembling it.
2 injury caused by a severe jerk to the head, typically in a motor-vehicle accident.
verb [ with obj. ]
jerk or jolt (someone or something) suddenly, typically so as to cause injury: the force of impact had whiplashed the man’s head.
• [ no obj. ] move suddenly and forcefully, like a whip being cracked: he rammed the yacht, sending its necklace of lights whiplashing from the bridge.

In my case,  it was both a noun and a verb.  I sustained injury ’caused by a severe jerk to the head’ though mine was from being violently slammed to the pavement, and not by a car accident.  And the action of DCD in slamming me to the pavement caused the injury.  Even now I get a twinge of pain and sadness when picturing the scene that morning.  I know it could have been so much worse.  Had I not been in such great physical shape and been so angry that someone would even think of attacking me, the outcome may have been far different.  And yet 33+ months later I am still dealing with the pain that his actions caused me that September morning.  That pisses me off.  And makes me even more determined to get myself completely healed, however long it takes.

YOGA AND HEALING

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I started doing yoga in September of 2011.  While it is true that I had taken a few classes here and there, I never ‘got into it.’  However, when I took my first class at Coronado Yoga and Wellness, something clicked.  I will admit that during the first class, I thought, ‘this is so slow, I’m not sure I can do this.’  Then I admonished myself to relax and take it for what it was, that I didn’t have to go 100 miles an hour to benefit from something.  That did it for me.  I had had only 2, maybe 3 classes, when I was attacked.  I kept going back, though, even as my body and mind were in shock, and I had to be around people, and at that point, I was afraid of all people, I kept going.  I remember lying on the floor, wanting to cry and not being able to, going over and over in my mind what had happened and still not believing it had actually happened to me.  And even though my body was hurting, I continued to show up.  There is not a doubt in my mind that doing yoga was instrumental in my healing process.

I came upon this wonderful essay about just that and I emailed the author, Molly Boeder Harris, to ask if it was okay for me to reprint it here.  She graciously agreed.  She also has a web site that deals with sexual assault, www.thebreathenetwork.org.

 

Transcending the Trauma of Sexual Violence With Yoga
By Molly Boeder Harris
Photos by Michael Rioux

“Sexual violence can impact every facet of a survivor’s life, including her physical, mental, and spiritual health. Philosopher Ann Cahill captures the pervasive nature of the crime of rape in her book Rethinking Rape (2001), explaining, “As a traumatic, violent, embodied experience, rape…does not merely attack the victim’s sexuality, or her sense of safety, or her physical being. It does all of this, and more. It cannot be assumed that there is one aspect of that person’s being that is untouched by the experience of rape. There is no pristine, untouched corner to which to retreat…the extent of the rapist’s influence is broad, but not infinite…the self that emerges from the process of healing will always be qualitatively and profoundly different from the self that existed prior to the assault. To know oneself.as raped, is to become a different self.”
Healing after sexual assault requires intentionality, consistency, and patience. The challenge of swimming against unexpected waves of physical, emotional, or spiritual disturbance and depression, combined with a cultural expectation that time heals all wounds, can leave survivors feeling disconnected from themselves and others and unable to trust their ability to manage their inner experience. The nonlinear and often lifelong process that begets healing can cause survivors to question their capacity for resilience.
Yoga provides an accessible, personalized practice that can engage survivors in safely processing sensation and sustain them through multiple stages of healing. Like healing, yoga is a lifelong practice , with ebbs and flows, breakthroughs and setbacks–all equally valuable and necessary. For a sexual assault survivor, an intentional yoga practice provides a safe, accessible, and self-directed space that serves to reintegrate body, mind, and spirit. As survivors explore layers of their being and allow sensation to emerge, pain and suffering are alleviated, and more space is created for encountering the awesome experience of being alive. Yoga allows survivors to regain a sense of comfort and ease within their own shape, to process nonverbally feelings that transcend language, and to experientially cultivate gratitude towards the body, which serve as a reminder of one’s resilience.

In practicing yoga, we link movement with breath and a presence of mind, offering a welcome inner quieting and release of tension that foster expansion. Yoga creates a unique environment where survivors can explore inside with kindness and inquisitiveness and develop attitudes that allow for compassionate responses. Honoring the body as a sacred space after surviving the violation of rape demands tremendous, consistent effort, but the integrated healing it provides remains unparalleled.
The belief that humans (and animals) contain an innate healing capacity–accessed through the body–is a guiding methodology in contemporary trauma treatment. Dr. Peter Levine, creator of a “body-awareness approach to trauma” called Somatic Experiencing ® , describes how our “instinct to heal [and] self-regulate [are] engaged through the awareness of body sensations that contradict those of paralysis and helplessness, and which restore resilience, equilibrium and wholeness.” Levine’s body-based method ” returns a sense of aliveness, relaxation and wholeness to traumatized individuals who have had these precious gifts taken away.” Pat Ogden, another trauma expert, describes the value of mindfulness, an integral part of her body-based psychotherapy practice, as a “state of consciousness in which one’s awareness is directed toward here-and-now internal experience, with the intention of simply observing rather than changing [the] experience.” Ogden eventually encourages the individual to “come out of a dissociated state and future or past-centered ideation and experience the present moment through the body.” This holistic system brings ” the body experience into the foreground” and offers the possibility for profound healing. The essential threads within these innovative techniques, such as body awareness, examining internal movement of feeling and sensation, staying present in the “here and now,” and bearing witness to one’s experience without judgment are qualities that rape victims can weave into a balanced, intentional yoga practice.
Since sexual violence often damages the connection with the body, body-based therapeutic practices are invaluable. Discussing the layered impact of trauma, which can heighten negative sensation and hinder positive sensation, Ogden describes how ” fully experiencing sensations may be disconcerting or.frightening, as intense physical experience may evoke feelings of being out of control or.weak and helpless. On the other hand, traumatized individuals are often dissociated from body sensation, experiencing the body as numb or anesthetized.”
Yoga postures, breathing exercises, and meditation techniques can effectively reduce the symptoms of rape trauma syndrome (RTS), a form of post traumatic stress disorder that was identified by Ann Wolbert Burgess and Lynda Lytle Holmstrom in 1974. RTS includes symptoms and reactions experienced by most survivors during, immediately following, and for months or years after the assault. RTS can involve psychological, physical, behavioral, cognitive, and interpersonal disruptions including headaches, anxiety, inability to concentrate/focus, sleeplessness, lethargy, anger, depression, mood irregularity, spiritual disconnection, hopelessness, fear/avoidance of intimacy and sexuality, eating disorders, self-injury, and substance abuse. Survivors navigate amidst hyperarousal, numbness, and vivid nightmares, causing a host of energetic imbalances and concerns.
Survivors may experience flashbacks upon some sort of sensory trigger, in which they feel as if the assault is happening all over again–and the physical and emotional responses can be quite visceral, if not debilitating. The embodied practice of yoga allows survivors to develop healthy coping and grounding techniques that can disrupt a flashback and reestablish stability. Since flashbacks may also happen due to perceived or real threats, this ability to track body sensation, which helps survivors experience present reality rather than reacting as if the trauma were still occurring is an essential tool to self-care, independence, and personal safety.

Given the challenges that individuals must brave after surviving sexual assault, it is clear that a comprehensive yoga practice involving organic movement, exploring sensation, intentional breathing, and deep rest can aid healing. A survivor benefits from the internal cleansing and freeing feeling of a vigorous vinyasa practice, as well as the profound comfort and spaciousness that accompanies a restorative sequence. The yoga practice can be tailored to support and enhance a survivor’s sense of embodiment, integration, and inner peace.
When the poet Adrienne Rich describes the healing power of poetry, it reminds me of the mysterious and boundless gifts that yoga can bring into a survivor’s life: “[I]t has al ways been true that poetry can break isolation, show us to ourselves when we are outlawed or made invisible, remind us of beauty where no beauty seems possible, remind us of kinship where all is represented as separation” (“Defy the Space That Separates,” The Nation , October 7, 1996). W e are all essentially survivors, carrying the stories and scars of our Life’s path. Some of those scars still hurt us deeply, yet others have transformed us and informed new and beautiful journeys. As we trek along our paths of healing and growth, let us offer gratitude for the exquisite opportunity to discover embodiment, breath by breath, this precious and simple offering that the practice of yoga returns to us.”

 

I continue to do yoga 3-4 days a week, mostly yoga on the beach here in Coronado or outside on the grass in Pacific Beach.  It has made me stronger in all ways and I will have a yoga practice for the rest of my life.  I wish I had found it earlier in my life, but am incredibly grateful it came when it did.  It contributed greatly to the healing of my mind, body and spirit.

24 JUNE 2001

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When I started this blog on the one year anniversary of my attack, it was to help me deal with and understand what I had been through as a result of my encounter with DCD.  I also wanted to help other women who had gone through, or were still going through, a similar event.  I thought that others would eventually want to share their stories.  So far, though, I seem to be the only one telling my story, and that’s okay.   As I’ve shared my story and continue to have issues come up, as a direct or indirect result of being sexually assaulted, I can see that my entire story, not just the approximately 2-minute or 5-minute, or however long my assault actually took, is just as important.  Everything we go through in our lives gets us to where we are right now, in this very moment, and all of it matters.  Of course, some things or events matter more than others, but it all does impact us in some way.

When I was thinking about what to write in this week’s post, I went to my garage and got into my box of old journals.  After some skimming of about 10 or 12, I settled on the one that runs from 4 April 2001 -11 November 2001.  I brought it in the house and into my bed to read until the ‘right’ entry jumped out at me.  This period of my life was just ager my divorce from J and I had moved from Chicago to West Hollywood.  What follows is what I wrote on 24 June 2001…

 

“Once again, I am drinking wine and shortly, no doubt, I’ll start feeling melancholy, as I usually do when drinking, especially when I am alone.  And, of course, I am alone.  I am hardly anything else.  But since I like being alone, this should be a good thing.  I’m beginning to wonder though.  As I was sitting here reading (looking, though, is probably more accurate) Cooking Light, I suddenly had the inspiration that I should, once again, write down what it is I want in my life.  So here is my updated list:  I want someone to share with.  The day-to-day stuff that is usually such a pain is sorely lacking in my life.  I want and need someone here. (Elaina was right about this.)  I want someone to talk to, and I mean really talk, not just silly, it-doesn’t-really-matter stuff.  I want someone to go to the Hollywood Farmer’s Market (or whichever) with.  I want to cook dinner with someone.  I want someone in my bed every night, and I don’t mean Emily.  I want physical contact.  I need it.  I want to go to the Hollywood Bowl and listen to jazz (even though I don’t care for jazz.)  I want to be building a life with someone (besides myself.)  I still want to have a baby.  I want to get a dog.  I want to, once and for all time, STOP BEING AFRAID.  I want to have more patience.  I want to love unconditionally and be loved in return the  same way.  I want to live for today, and for myself, instead of waiting until that certain someone comes along and is here in my life.  I want to honestly enjoy everything.  I want to stop saying I don’t like things, and just do them anyway.  I want to teach.  I want to write my book about my life so that I can help thousands, maybe even millions, of people.  I want to write children’s books, so kids can understand that they are important, that what they think and feel is the most important thing in the world, no matter what anybody says.  I want to see DPS again.  I want to create beautiful things.  I want to live according to what I believe. I want to tell my truth, always.  I want to travel and see the world.  I want to learn to sail and buy that sail boat so that I can sail around the world.  I want to stop being stuck.  I want to do what I feel is right.  I want to see SG.  I want to stop being afraid of what he’s going to say or do or not do.  I want to stop putting my life on hold because of him.  I want to truly believe that all is happening for the best, that my life is exactly where it should be.  I want passion.  I WANT SEX.  I am so tired of being lonely.  I want to stop being afraid.  I want to know why I am so afraid.  I want to talk to M, I mean really talk to him, on Friday.  I want to spend time with him.  I want to kiss him.  Boy, do I want to kiss him.  I would love to be able to tell him that.  Better yet, I would like to just do it.  I want to understand why I’m here (in L.A. specifically, but in the world generally.)  I want to understand why I seem to attract and be attracted to those men who are ‘unavailable’ for one reason or another.  Why?  I want to understand why it is that every Tom, Dick and Harry that I pass by on the street tells me I am beautiful, but the very people I want to tell me never do, even though they may think it.  Why?  I want to know why it is I am so weepy lately (even without the wine.)  I want to know why I keep losing my faith in the very things I am so sure about.  I’m not going to say that I want to be happy, because, in reality, I am happier than I’ve ever been in my life even though I am the most confused.  I know in my heart that I am doing, and have been doing, the right things for the last 9 or so months.  Still, it feels so not right at times.  Perhaps one of the reasons it feels bad at times is that no one really wants to hear the truth.  Change is scary and no one knows that as well as I.  But I did it anyway.  In spite of what I was hearing from most people (my family,) I did it anyway, and I continue to do it.  Most don’t understand.  And as much as I don’t want that to matter, it somehow seems to anyway.  I’m working on it.  I guess for my whole life I have instinctively known what I had to do, and for the most part, have done it.  I just wish I had the outside support I seem to crave.  I’m on my own, though.  Except, I am never truly alone because I’ve always got God and the Universe and my guides and angels and spirits with me.  What more could I ever really ask for?

Alcohol is such a depressant, and yet, I’d love to drink even more.  Why?  I’d say I just want to be numb.  I know it won’t do me any good though, and I’ll just feel like dog doo tomorrow, so I’ll be a relatively good girl and not have any more to drink tonight.  Not to mention, it will only make me feel worse.”

 

Some things never change.  Although the above journal entry was written more than 13 years ago, a lot of what I was ‘wanting’ in my life is still what I want today.  I hope, though, that I have a better understanding of where I am and my place in the world.  What is most interesting to me is I forgot about a lot of things that I wanted back then.  Sail around the world?  Really?

FORGIVING DOES NOT MEAN FORGETTING

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Still working on forgiving – my attacker, of course, and even more importantly, myself. I know it seems strange that I would in any way need to forgive myself for something I did not do, for something I never would have wished upon my worst enemy; not that I really have any enemies, but if I did, I wouldn’t wish a sexual assault on them.

In April, right before I left for a trip to Atlanta, to visit my parents, to go to the Masters and  to Saint Simons Island to visit my friend Kim, I was on my way to the outlet mall down by the border and passed a sign for the exit for Donovan. I have never noticed this exit before on any previous trip. When I saw it, the thought that popped into my head was, “I should go and visit DCD.” (A friend wrote me to tell me that I need to stop calling my attacker ‘cockroach boy’ and start using his name. While I agree that CRB isn’t very nice, what he did to me wasn’t very nice and the best I can do right now is call him by his initials.) And then I thought, ‘Whoa, where did that come from?’ I completely forgot about it until my last Hoffman gathering. Well, after doing some research, I found out that DCD is not, in fact, housed at Donovan, but at Kern Valley, which is about a 4 hour drive from here. And in order to visit a prisoner, you have to be on the approved visitor list and the person to approve me is DCD. You actually have to apply to be visitor, and even if DCD said it was okay, the prison system has to okay it, as well. I think my real reason for wanting to go visit him is to ask him WHY? I’m not sure I’d even get an answer and even if I did, it may not be one I want. I’ve thought about it a lot and come to the conclusion that going up to Kern Valley State Prison is not something I am prepared to do. A compromise may be to write him a letter. Again, I am not sure what I hope to really accomplish with this. I may end up writing him and not sending it.

At acupuncture last week, I was lamenting about how long the healing process is taking. Matt said to me, ‘You ARE through it. Right now. You are done.’ Okay, cool! Maybe it really is as easy as that. Yes, I am still dealing with some physical issues that have occurred as a result of the attack. Each day, though, I feel like I am one step closer to being completely healed. Will I ever forget about it? Doubtful, especially since I write about it. Will there always be certain things that are either very difficult or impossible for me to do? I have no idea. Only time will tell.

Whatever the case is for me, however it plays out for me in the future, forgiveness has been on my mind a lot in the last 2 1/2+ years. So as for forgiving myself, just as with DCD, I am much closer than ever to being able to say honestly that I have done it. I am not sure why I blame myself on some level, and I may never understand that. Don’t get me wrong here, I am very clear that I did nothing wrong, that the way I was dressed had nothing to do with it, that I was in the wrong place at the right time, because, to my way of thinking, if it had been the wrong time, it never would have happened. As I have said before, too, I do believe that it happened for a reason and though I did not specifically ask to be sexually assaulted, I had been asking for changes in my life. I am really okay with all of that, which is why it baffles me that I would in any way blame myself. Yet, it is still there to a degree. Clearly, I will be done when I am done. There doesn’t seem to be a way to make it go faster. It will take as long as it takes.

Because forgiveness has been so much on my mind, when the topic for the 7 March 2014 daily reading in my Science of Mind magazine, written by Joanne McFadden, was FORGIVE, this was just another validation that I am on the right path. I loved the essay so I am going to copy it in its entirety:

“After Olympic runner Louis Zamperini’s plane went down in the Pacific in World War II, he and the pilot floated for forty-seven days on a life raft. They survived a strafing attack by a Japanese pilot, numerous shark attacks and a lack of food, only to be captured by the enemy. They were brutally beaten, subjected to medical experiments, starved and worked to near death as prisoners of war. One guard, nicknamed “The Bird” by prisoners was determined to break Zamperini. Maintaining humanity and dignity was a daily struggle.

Zamperini survived. However, nightmares of his ordeal kept him emotionally imprisoned for years after the war, plunging him into alcoholism and despair. At first, Zamperini was convinced that vengeance was the only way to reclaim his life, and he became obsessed with it, making plans to hunt down The Bird. Grace intervened. Under protest Zamperini attended a Billy Graham meeting. He was about to get up and leave when he remembered a bargain he made when his raft floated in a dead calm. If God would save his life, Zamperini would serve.

That recollection changed his life dramatically. Zamperini forgave The Bird and went on to create camps for troubled boys, sharing his experiences and showing them a different way of life.

When I have allowed myself to have something to forgive, I like to remember extreme examples like Zamperini’s. If he could do it, so can I.”

Exactly. If Louis Zamperini can do it after the unimaginable things he endured, then so can I.

“It’s a healing, actually, it’s a real healing…forgiveness.” ~Louis Zamperini

THE ‘SIDE EFFECTS’ OF HOFFMAN

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As I have already stated, doing the Hoffman Process, literally, saved my life.  Just as my last three posts were titled, it was a huge leap of faith for me.  It was truly an experience like none I had ever had before, nor have I done anything like it since.  I am forever grateful that I was able to find it when I did, that I had a very supportive (soon to be ex) husband and that I had the resources necessary to do it.  My life so completely changed afterwards.  Something very fundamental shifted in me.  It was clearly something that needed to shift.  BH (before Hoffman) I was a very pessimistic person.  Even after having ‘done’ the antidepressant drugs and therapy, there was still something not quite right in me.  It is very difficult to explain how I was different, why I felt so much better, though I will do my best.

When I left to drive back to Chicago, the world seemed somehow brighter.  I felt more alive, like every part of me was happy.  That feeling in itself was odd for someone who had been perpetually depressed and unhappy for most of her life.  Depression is a weird and insidious thing.  It’s not that I had a bad life, quite the opposite, but I never felt that good, let alone great, and certainly not happy.  Okay, maybe on occasion, for a short amount of time, I felt okay, or good enough to keep me going.  Believe me, that is no way to live, and, yet, I know many people do it, day in and day out, for their entire lives.  So, on my drive, I noticed something very strange: no more road rage.  None.  It was all gone, and it stayed gone for a good 9 or 10 years.  Sadly, it has started creeping slowly back in.  It’s not bad, certainly not like it used to be, but I do find myself getting mad at other drivers.  I have to make a real conscious effort to relax and realize that no one is purposely ‘out to get me.’  It was nothing I consciously decided to rid myself of, it just happened as a result of doing the Process.

For years, as long as I can remember, I have always had headaches.  When I was a teenager, I suffered from migraines that appeared every 6 weeks or so.  They did not seem to be connected to my periods, but they did show up just as regularly.  The worst one I ever had lasted 13 days.  Yes, THIRTEEN DAYS!  My (physician) mother finally took me to the doctor to see if there was anything that could help.  The doctor wanted to test my tolerance to pain (clearly I had a lot) and did so by giving me a shot in my hip.  I could tell that the needle was tiny, but it hurt so much that when he told me he could give me another shot that would make my headache go away in 20 minutes, I said, “No way!”  My thinking was I had had the headache for 13 days so it was bound to go away soon, even without a shot.

The really bad thing about my migraines as I got into my late teens and early 20s was how they affected me.  I had blind spots in my eyes and when I would look at a person, I could not see his or her face.  Everyone was headless.  This was a real problem when I was driving.  Not only could I not see people’s faces, now I couldn’t see whole cars.  I would have to pull over, carefully, and call someone to come and get me.  Over time, the migraines eased up a bit, but I still had regular headaches.  I rarely did not have a headache.  There was always pain, but I was so used to it, I mostly ignored it.  I have probably taken enough aspirin, Tylenol, and ibuprofen in my lifetime to kill a herd of elephants.

Very unexpectedly, AH (after Hoffman) my headaches were gone.  Completely!  I had no pain at all in my head anymore.  As far as side effects go, this was a great one.  13 1/2 years later I rarely get headaches, and if I do, it’s because I really have a pain in my head.  All the headaches I suffered for all those years were, apparently, stored and repressed anger, and once I dealt with the underlying causes of that, they had no choice but to disappear.

I always had a potty mouth.  Not horrible, but not so nice, either.  I had read a book by Hugh Prather in the early 90s called “Notes To Myself.”  I do not have the book in front of me, so I cannot quote it exactly; but he said something to the effect of ‘when you swear, all I hear is the swear words and not what you are trying to say.’  At the time I had boyfriend who like to yell and swear and that’s all I could hear.  So, even then I was doing my best to be more conscious of not swearing.  Let’s just say, I wasn’t that successful at it.  AH, though, that all changed.  I was doing something and felt the need to swear.  When I opened my mouth to say, oh, who knows, ‘shit’ or ‘fuck,’ out of my mouth came, ‘oh, bother.’  I just started laughing.  To this day, I rarely swear, and when I do, it is way more effective.  And, really, I think it sounds crass to have every other word come out of your mouth be a swear word.  I will admit, I sometimes do swear when I am alone, especially if I am angry or frustrated at something or someone.  But, like I said, I hardly ever do it in front of anyone.  I have friends who have said they have never heard me swear, and that’s a good thing, I think.

These are just three of the ‘side effects’ I ‘suffered’ as a result of doing the Hoffman Process. All are good and all helped to improve my life, I’d say.  There are so many more, some big, most small, that I wouldn’t even be able to list them.  The entire 10 days was such a life-changing experience.  There are hundreds of Hoffman graduates in the San Diego area, and we have monthly gatherings to continue to work the tools we learned, and to stay connected to each other.  I know Bob Hoffman (founder of the Process) is smiling down on me.

A LEAP OF FAITH, PART 3

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The following is the second half of my Summary of the Process, written on 18 November 2000:

My experience with the Emotional Child/Intellect/Body/Spirit confrontation and Truce was actually fun.  (Again, a lot of what I am writing about here will make no sense in the specifics unless you have done the Hoffman Process.)  All parts of me felt good that they were finally able to have their say, to actually be heard and to know that what each part felt and said was, and is, important.  All parts of me now realize that we all must work together, that no one part has more of an important role than any other, that we must all listen carefully to what is being said, and act accordingly.  The truce was a validation that we will continue to be there for, listen to and work with each other, all our parts, from that day forward. I found the recycling to be useful as a tool to get rid of negative thinking and patterns and to look at those patterns in a new way.  Some of the alternatives that came up seemed a bit silly, but, perhaps, that’s really the point.  In the end, the idea is to eradicate those patterns that impact negatively in my life and if rolling in a field of sunflowers, whether physically or only in my mind, does this, then it must be a good solution. My experience of expressing my vindictiveness and then finding forgiveness had a sense of being free of the need to lash out and try to get back at people for the perceived slights or hurts inflicted upon me.  Again, in the end, I am the only one hurt by carrying a grudge and feeling that sense of superiority or self-righteousness.  It felt good to let go of those feelings and the feeling of trying to show you that I am better because I am paying you back for hurting me, that I’ll show you.  The need to always be “right” has disappeared.  I’ve always felt that people should live and let live, but in reality, I didn’t actually practice it.  I thought people should live and let live, but by my rules, by doing it my way.  Now I feel able to actually practice what I preach, so to speak.

My experience with writing the Positive Letter to my parents isn’t complete yet since I haven’t finished the letter.  With what I’ve written so far and with all of the good thoughts I had surrounding it, though, I feel it’s a good thing to be able to think of both of my parents in positive terms instead of as all negative patterns.  And though at times it has been quite difficult to see, I do know that I did learn the virtues and strengths that I have, even if I don’t always recognize them as such, from them.

I have to say that play day was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.  The play session made me want to join, or if none is available, to start my own “Adult-Play Group,” just like those that exist for kids.  All the different games were so much fun and like one of my fellow Hoffmates mentioned, none lasted too long.  We didn’t have time to get bored before we were off to another game and/or adventure.  I especially liked the counting by 4s and then each number was given an animal and we had to find our other members with our eyes closed, of course.  It was all fun, though.  The magic carpet ride to the North Pole to visit Santa Claus was so cool.  It was an affirmation that I am a good and loving person since Santa doesn’t give gifts to bad people.  I don’t honestly remember going to visit Santa as a child, so it was a chance to experience something I wasn’t able to so long ago. It was great.  And so was the birthday party.  Although I do not remember such a large and elaborate party for me, it was a wonderful celebration.  I felt we were celebrating all that we had accomplished thus far in the week.  And to top it all off, we got to put on a play, just like kids love to do.  I don’t think the content of our play would ever show up in a play put on by actual children, but it was fun, nonetheless.  It gave us a chance to work together with each other.  Overall, I thought it was hilarious and showed what we can do when we put our heads, and hearts, together.  All in all, it was one of the best days.  I was truly sorry to see it end.  It felt kind of like when I was little and not wanting to go to bed because I was having way too much fun.

The next day we went back to the ‘hard’ stuff.  My experience with the Dark Side Process left me with a feeling of hope and calm.  And a determination to never let my dark side back into my life.  I know there will be times it’ll creep up on me, but I feel like I’ll be able to zap it and keep it from taking over.

I believe that if I am willing, and I am, to really listen to my spiritual self, I will never be led astray.  I know, without a doubt, that my spiritual side is very powerful.  I know that she has kept me alive for 40 years so that I could get to the place I finally am.  Even when I couldn’t see past the pain, she could.  I know, too, that she is a very loving and giving part of me. As I’ve always been a very visual person myself, I know that she must also be, since, really, we are one and the same.  She has helped me in the last several months, but especially in the last week, visualize my future.  And it looks good!

As I approach the end of the Process and prepare to go fully back into the world I left, I know that I can do it.  I feel so grateful that I’ve had this opportunity to grow and experience the last week, however painful and hard it was.  I am excited about what the future holds for me.  I am also a little bit scared.  I’ve got some major stuff to go through with J, but I KNOW I can face whatever comes my way.  I have the tools and the willingness to do it right, to keep the negative love out of my life.  I also know there will be pain and stumbling along the way, but nothing that love and my belief that I’ll come through it can’t handle.  I am free.  I am love, and I am lovable.

 

Okay, back to present day…just typing this out has been eye-opening.  As I said in one of the previous parts of this, I have not read or even looked at this stuff since I finished the Process in November of 2000.   One of the most powerful things that happened at the end of my time in Wisconsin, was opening my eyes and seeing all the past graduates who had come to participate in a particular ceremony we had, and knowing, I mean really knowing, that no matter what, no matter where I went, or what I did, for the rest of my life, I had a community of like-minded people.  And that alone was worth it.

A LEAP OF FAITH: Part 1

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I met my friend Shannon in 1988, while living and working as a model in Greece.  In 2000, I went to visit her in Vancouver, where she is from, though she lives in Barcelona now with her husband and two sons.  On the way to the airport I kept saying to my (then) husband, “I don’t want to go.”  He said, “Of course you do.  You always say this before you are leaving on a trip.”  True.  Did I know something subconsciously?  Did I sense that this trip would change the course of my life?  Maybe, but maybe it was just me not wanting to leave my comfort zone, the comfortable bubble I existed it at the time.  Whatever the case was, I did go on my trip, and my life did change.

As I said before, I had known Shannon since 1988.  I had met almost everyone in her family, everyone, that is, except her youngest brother, who I will call D.  When I met D I had a physical reaction to him.  This was strange because he was not my ‘type.’  He was tall and extremely fit, he participated in the Scottish Highland games and was really attractive. So what in that description is not my type?  All I can say is he just wasn’t.  That’s why the reaction I had to him seemed like it was coming out of left field.  I remember thinking, ‘oh, no, I thought that part of me had died.’

When I met my husband, I was a mess.  I had been back from Spain for about a year and a half at that point.   People thought I was anorexic because I weighed only 125 pounds.    I wasn’t, I was extremely stressed and just could not gain weight.  (By the way, I do not have that problem anymore.)  Then I met J.   He was a good guy; kind, nice-looking, though not in a pretty-boy/model way that I preferred.   He had a real job and a normal life.  I had retired from modeling by then, but it is a very hard business to leave, and I was still getting used to living back in the States.  I was clinically depressed and made decisions and choices that I never would have made had I been emotionally healthy.  There was one ‘problem,’ which in the end, turned out to be something I simply could not live with for the rest of my life.  I was not attracted to him physically.  At the time, I thought, well, I’ve had the bells and whistles before and because he’s a good guy, and there must be more to life than mind-blowing sex, I think I can do this.   The moment I met D it became very clear to me that I couldn’t.  Well, crap!

I couldn’t, wouldn’t, do anything about what I was feeling because, after all, I was married.  On the plane back to Chicago, I realized I was going to have to get a divorce.  I so did not want to tell J, and after I was home, I got sick from holding  it in.  I wasn’t sure how or when I would tell him.  I think I kept hoping that somehow I would be able to go back to how my life was before I left for Canada.  I think I was in bed for a week, and then one morning, without meaning to, it popped out of my mouth.  He asked if we could go to couples/marriage counseling.  I said yes.  I forget now where we found this therapist, but she was great.  It became very clear very quickly that this wasn’t going to work.  I had never really let my husband know who I really was, and, consequently was unable to talk about much in therapy.  We decided that I would continue to see her on my own, and go from there.

At one point, I saw the movie “28 Days” with Sandra Bullock.  I thought, ‘oh, my gosh!  That’s what I need.  I need rehab, but for mental stuff.’  At my next appointment, I asked if there was such a thing as mental rehab.  She told me yes, and there is a really good place that is based in Northern California, but they have a location in Wisconsin.  She got the phone number for me, I called and got the information sent, and two weeks later, I went to Hoffman.  When the brochures first arrived I read them over and then told J I didn’t think it sounded like me.  He read them and said to me, “Read them again.”  Oh.

The Hoffman Process saved my life.  I felt hopeless, that I was hanging on by a mere thread, and the 10 days I spent in Wisconsin changed everything.  What J actually said to me was, “If we can’t fix our marriage, can we at least work on fixing you?”  I was 99.98% sure I wanted  to get a divorce, but for the .02% chance that our marriage could be saved, and because I was so unhappy, we decided I needed to go.  Hoffman was, without a doubt, the most difficult thing I had ever done in my life.  There was 10 hours of pre-Process work, and I was on the phone with someone in the office more than once while attempting to complete it.   That was a clear indication of just how hard it was going to be.

I cannot even remember exactly where in Wisconsin it was held.  All I know is we were at a B&B and completely isolated from the outside world.  There was no TV, no radio, no phone or cell phones.  We were there to work, and work we did, for many hours each day.  When we first arrived, they gathered all 21 of us together and we each had to introduce ourselves and say why we were there.  I said, “I am at the end of my rope and since I promised my mother I would not kill myself, something has to change because my life depends on it.”

And so the adventure of the Hoffman Process began…

 

MY DAILY DECLARATION

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Sometime last fall I came across a web site called Build Your Confidence.  There was this ‘manifesto’ called My Daily Declaration.  The instructions were ‘read aloud to yourself every day.  I have been doing so ever since.  I love it and thought I should share it here:

“My name is _______.  I am a STRONG and powerful (man/woman.)  I am capable of anything I set my mind to because I have complete FAITH in myself and my abilities.  I am strong enough to face all of life hurdles because I know they are sent to make me a stronger, better person.  I believe that every situation is an opportunity to learn something new about myself and to grow into my full potential.  Sometimes life is tough, and I know I AM TOUGHER.  I know that my purpose in life is _____________, and every day I do something to achieve my goals because I am a unique and special person who is deserving of every good thing the Universe has to offer, and in return I offer myself to be of service to others.  I am GRATEFUL for all that I have, for everything that has ever happened to me and for all that the future brings because I know that I am supposed to be where I am right now at this very moment because it is preparing me for where I need to go and what I need to do.  Every day is an opportunity to LIVE, LOVE and LAUGH and to revel in the beauty of the world around me.  I am connected to myself in the deepest of ways and I love and appreciate myself 100%.  I am committed to making myself and my life better so that I can help others do the same.  I know that LOVE is all around me and I live with a PURE HEART and good intentions.  I breathe POSITIVITY and HOPE and I know that I can change the world around me by changing the world inside of me.  I live to be inspired and to inspire others, and I know that my power comes from my belief in myself.  I make a daily choice to do what is right for my BODY, for my MIND and for my SPIRIT, and because I have the power of choice, I am able to create the life I want for myself with every action and every thought.  I start my day with a still mind, a kind heart and a positive attitude, and I believe that I am good and valuable person who has much to offer.  So today, I will be the BEST that I can be and do the BEST that I can do.  I love myself for my achievements and forgive myself for any mistakes, because they teach me how to succeed in the future.  I refuse to allow negativity into my life, and I remain STRONG  and POSITIVE through the good times and the bad.  I am a CONFIDENCE WARRIOR and I am determined to live up to my limitless potential.  I LOVE, HONOUR and CHERISH myself and those that I love, and I am committed to making today and every day AMAZING.”  So be it, and so it is.

Obviously, you would fill your own name in the first blank and in the second your purpose in this life.  My purpose is to share my story, which is what I do weekly on this website.  Ironically enough, I just today found out that the author of Build Your Confidence is Tony T. Robinson.  Do yourself a favor and check out his website.  And print the Daily Declaration out and read it each morning.  It really is quite powerful.

WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG?

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Okay, it is just over 2 1/2 years since my encounter with cockroach boy, so why am I still struggling?  Don’t get me wrong, I am SO much better than I was and I know that I am a little better each day, but why does it take so, so, so long to feel ‘normal’ again?  Will I ever actually feel the way I used to?  Do I even want to?  All I know is I sometimes feel like I am just one unkind comment or one stupid injury away from the dark side.  The good thing is I do have the tools to get myself out of those places, and I am able to do it fairly quickly.  Still…

A few weeks ago, my car, Grazelda, bit me.  You may wonder how a car is able to bite someone.  Well, she is old (almost 18 years) and moves more slowly than she used to,  and one of those places that doesn’t move so well any more is the trunk.  I was going to yoga on the beach and was driving since I had to leave the island right after.  Because I did not need my purse on the beach and I didn’t want to leave it sitting on the seat of the car, I thought I’d put it in the trunk before I left so that no one would see me doing it and decide to break in and steal it.  So I walk around the back of the car, insert the key into the trunk and assume (and everyone knows that one should never assume anything) without really looking that the trunk is open.  In fact, it was not and I bashed my head on the trunk lock.  I thought, oh great.  I did not have time to go back in the house to deal with it or I would have been late to yoga.  When I got in the car and looked in the mirror there was no blood.  Five minutes later it was a different story.  It never gushed blood, but I still managed to get blood all over my new white jacket.

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I looked like I had squooshed a spider on my forehead and just left it there.  Luckily, it healed quickly and because I put vitamin E oil on it every day, there is not even a scar when the scab fell off a week later.  That day, though, I felt ‘off’ for the entire day.  I did not hit my head hard enough to give myself a concussion, but I definitely felt dizzy and light-headed.  I probably should not have done yoga, but I did.  I also felt like crying, not so much because it hurt, but for some other unknown reason.  My body was reacting in a way I did not quite understand.  It seemed to me to be overreacting.

I had acupuncture after yoga that morning, and Matt (Truhan,) my acupuncturist, explained it as, basically, muscle memory from my attack.  Because I hit my face/head on the pavement during my attack, there was something in my body that was remembering that incident and, I think now, because I was in shock that September day, I did not necessarily feel what was happening.  So when I hit my head on the trunk my body brought up those feelings.  What seemed at the time to me like an overreaction was just a memory from 2 1/2 years ago.  I took it easy and rested and by the next day, I felt much better.

And so I one back to my original question – WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG?  What I am slowly, but very slowly, figuring out is it takes as long as it takes.  There is really nothing I can do to hurry it along.  Now, though, when I open the trunk, I lean back as far as possible so that Grazelda cannot bite me again.