trigger warning. FOR REAL. I'm going to post as briefly and as gently as I can about a core personal truth: I was recently diagnosed as having lived in a state of active trauma for 90 per cent of my life. I knew this to be true for any number of reasons but I also knew I saw no reason to let it stop me. Pretty much on any level beyond the realm of steering clear of trigger happy situations if I had any advance warning that's what they were.
SOMEBODY WHO READS HERE NEEDS TO READ THIS. I'M NOT OFTEN AS CERTAIN OF SOMETHING AS I AM OF THAT IMPRESSION. THAT'S WHY I'M WRITING IT. and of course also because it has the same bedrock level truth about me and my days and how and why I am as I am as anything else that I share here.
The primary reason - bundled with errands and occasional coffeehouse/girlz together time on the way home - I've been visiting the river on such a reliable timetable is because I've been going to therapy for what most people who love me tend to refer to as [my] situation. I, in a very glib way that never hurts because I am by non-nurture very dark in my unexpurgated humor veining, like to refer to it with icy sarcasm as my condition. The therapist I have been seeing truly felt like unshakeable proof the cosmos wished me to shine as never before. Until something happened right before the winter holidays. She inadvertently triggered me in a way I couldn't let myself fully comprehend let alone express as it was happening.
Timing-wise it was just then we skipped a week of sessions due to winter holidays. During the first week I seesawed around in various levels of trigger reflection and rebound - nine-tenths of it alone up here in the studio. I'm sure if it had been a regular week and we'd met I might have found my way around where I was headed. At least on the outside and layers of personality focused on thinking with my brain rather than my gut and little shards of heartspace. But on the inside I felt like a feral version of my child-self. Every time I shoved my awareness back to the present tense I felt like Victoria Falls - heavy emphasis on falling - but on the outside I was holding it down with enough sincerity and grounding that I thought I'd be okay. And I really was. Until I wasn't. as in really REALLY wasn't.
When I explained it yesterday, in my final therapy session, I said the levee broke. I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine and I made a smashed-apart gesture with my hands. I said it just broke. And she nodded. She felt it and saw it. I said there is nothing but water everywhere. And I saw her feel a pivotal particular trauma from a childhood crammed full of many. She saw where I was going to take the session and I felt in every cell of my own body how difficult that must have been to take in and sit with and continue to track all the particles of meaning and grief and my stark-blind terror that were pulsing back and forth between us.
My final words of truth spoken in a room that held me safe enough to now continue onward keeping myself safe here in another room and well beyond: I ask a lot of myself everyday. But I can't ask this. It will break me. Every time I think of - or very softly whisper just barely aloud to myself - I weep. Have been weeping quite a lot but I think that's gotta happen. It will have to be how and what I do for the next little while.
The oaks have known if not detail then both context and outcome. They have spoken in their rustling firmness of the autumn season. All of this is very temporary. You have to be strong enough to see this before it explodes I thought "this" referred to general life flow being safe and stable enough to be out toodling around living life as it might not stay. Stoic to the bone but not really understanding until yesterday when I visited them. I planned to stand between them with a palm on each trunk. Looking for strength to do the unthinkable: Something so counter-intuitive to 'common sense' and also everything I know and have experienced on both ends of the self-sabotage spectrum.
oh no. It was the greeter who threw me that just as I realized everything leading to the oak pair was a thick sheet of icy glass. I thought the younger oak meant my intention to go anywhere but back in the vehicle.
NO. You KNOW that is the lie.
When I got home I realized I was going to write this post but I didn't know the turnaround time would be so soon. Letting truth find its un-simple way into simple words has been profoundly grounding. I hope my intuition is on track that somewhere somebody else feels that way just a tiny bit more from reading what I've shared.