Here I Am
Well, here I am. Now where is here...I’m still unsure. Things are going
relatively well...and not so good at the same time. I am feeling many, many
emotions- and that I am unused to...especially sadness- I finally feel it, I
really do, but now I don’t know what to do with it. And there is just so much
going on right.
I had therapy Monday morning, I had planned on talking some good stuff...but the
same old thing happened- I put up my stupid walls and even when the subject of
my one kiddo came up, I instantly went to little intellectual Erin instead of
the feeling one. When I feel the pain...my tears well up almost instantly. And
the pain is there I know. Stupid eyes.
I’m sad at the prospect of losing this child I have fought so damn hard for. It
really is ripping my heart to shreds. I know all the boundaries and
professionalism...but I am also human, as every therapist is...I think everyone
has their “Sweet Kiddo” (my name for him since I won’t be disclosing his real
name). He slipped under my radar and his charm, his radiance, his
fighting spirit, the light in his eyes, his sarcasm (pretty good for being
non-verbal lol), the way he rose to the challenges I put before him to push him
past others limits. What a child. So there is the freakin’ sadness.
The anger is at several things. The first...I guess the parents somewhat. I know
it’s their child and all that jazz, but still. To just suddenly stop therapy,
with the ONLY therapist that has been able to reach your child...just doesn’t
sit right to me. So yes, I think I am a little angry with them.
And…I am very angry with myself...not necessarily because I went to the
hospital...but what led up to it- why couldn’t I have stopped it, you know? What
could I have done differently!? What could I have done so that this would not
have happened? Part of me feels responsible for what is happening to that kid,
that his parents are discontinuing therapy and that in the end he will suffer
greatly for this. If I hadn’t fucked up, I’d still be doing therapy and helping
him and giving him a chance at life. So I am a little upset at myself- damn me.
So right now, I am just trying to figure things out. There is much to figure
out, I think. I mean, the issue regarding my little guy is hopefully coming to
an end and I’ll get closure. But there are so many more issues. And why have
they cropped up?
I am changing...a lot. Something clicked while I was in the hospital...some
things that can’t be “un-gotten.”
Or as someone ;-) once told me, “And then one day, [s]he gets it, and [s]he
shows you that. And you see that [s]he gets it in a way that can't be
un-gotten."
And so I am a changing person, from the way I interact with people, to my
outlook on life and the direction my life is headed. I’m not necessarily a
completely different person...in fact, I’m probably more “me” than I have ever
been. Which is a good thing...for me. But it may be hard for other people to
come to this acceptance of me finally moving into who I am, who I wish to be and
the direction of my life.
When I wake up in the morning...I do feel pain- for so much...not just the child
I want to work with still, but for a lot of things…a lot of loss- from the
semi-loss of real parents (though my Dad is awesome and has been a great
support- it’s my mom and step father I’ve lost), from remembering my childhood
and realizing...I didn’t get one, knowing that I grew up too fast and missed out
on a lot of childhood joys, the loss of security- since I didn’t get that for
most of my life, the loss of so many friendship, the loss in really living life-
since I’ve been just surviving for most of it.
Before...I would have stuffed these feelings, I would have denied these losses…I
would have not deal with them. And because of that, I’d go into depressions,
with or without med problems. I woke up everyday just hating myself...not the
situations that made me this way. And so many mornings I woke up just wanting to
die. I remember lying in bed just asking God to kill me that day- let a car hit
me or something- just anything- just make me gone. Or other days, I said to
myself to do it. This reminds me of a song by Tori Amos, Crucify:
“Why do we
Crucify ourselves
Every day
I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day
And my heart is sick of being in chains”
That’s what I did essentially (if you take
the crucify definition as, To treat cruelly; torment or To criticize harshly). I
treated myself cruelly; I tormented myself and of course criticized myself
harshly for the most part. Why? Well...I did grow up that way, obviously, so it
was what I was used to...even though in my late teens, only emotional abuse was
left... eventually I didn’t need my mother’s words to degrade myself...I could
do it all by myself because the words became ingrained in me, it was I thought
was normal- it was what I was used to and didn’t know that I had the power to
change. I accepted the fact that there was something inherently wrong with me
and I should be punished for it. Bring in cutting and other self-destructive
things- it did several things, from release the tension, to wanting to ‘see’ my
pain, to punishing myself for being a fuck up and worthless...and to keep the
feelings at bay. So...I crucified myself everyday, nothing was good enough...and
I got to the point where I was sick of being in those chains (enter therapy...!
Yes!).
And now of course I’m reminded of another Tori Amos song, Silent All These
Years:
I got something to say you know
But nothing comes
Yes I know what you think of me
You never shut-up
Yeah I can hear that
------------------------
Hey but I don't care
cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice
And it's been here
Silent All These Years
I've been here
Silent All These Years
After all these years...I am gaining back my voice. I think I
began to find it maybe a year ago (hence while family things became rocky- they
didn’t like what I had to say). But...I hear my voice; I know what it is saying.
I’m tired of being silent all these years...it is time to make a stand and be
me.
And it is more than just my voice that has been silent. My heart and soul has
been quiet, hiding out in its dwelling. And the memories- put in a little box in
my head (locked tightly with about 10 different locks (a.k.a. defense
mechanisms)). I didn’t trust my heart and didn’t want the memories- I didn’t
want to feel and I would have done anything to keep it that way and very nearly
succeeded on making it that permanent.
When I entered the hospital, it then became a fight for more than just my
life...it was my head versus my heart. The first week- the head won- I
intellectualized, I used my mind, my intelligence...and was let out. But only to
plan my suicide again. So in I went again…and this time- my heart won. My heart
is ready to talk...my memories are ready to be told, the stories are ready to be
told.
Honestly, at this point in my life...hell- I don’t have a damn thing figured
out. I used to need to be so certain- have a game plan, know exactly what is
going to happen. But now...I’m taking it one day at a time. I’m not graduating
on time, probably an extra year is needed...oh well- I’m alive! I don’t know
about grad school or where I’ll go with my company. But that’s okay- I love my
job, I’ve very, very good at it, so part me is not worried about being able to
keep doing that.
This is what I figure: I am alive each day...one day I will have a job I love,
I’ll live in the city I call my home...and I will be happy. I am healing...I
will make it to that picture I have in my head. I have lots of obstacles in my
way at this time...but that is all they are- obstacles. Nothing that can’t be
moved or go around.
It’s funny, when I’ve spoken to people about autism and ABA therapy...I’ve also
told them that no matter what- if I’m given a program for a child and the
initial way is not working...I have about ten different ways to teach it to the
child- we will find out what works because in the end, something will (part of
the determined, stubborn, persistent me).
Why I never made that translation into my own life, I don’t know! But I see it
now. With these obstacles and problems in my life- they aren’t immoveable, they
aren’t permanent and they will not kill me. I just have to find the solutions.
And not just by myself- I’m learning to use my friends, my therapy as tools to
find these solutions. I know in the end I do walk the road alone, some things I
have to do myself, but I have supports to cheer me along the way.
I’ve been thinking about the therapy I provide to these little guys (my good ole
little guy has kinda been on my mind a lot). And some good parallels can be
made. Like the one I mentioned above. These kids don’t know where their life is
going- there are so many variables, even I don’t know. All I can do is teach the
skills and take them to their full potential (hehe and then some!). That’s what
I need to do. Learn the skills to take me where I need to go- wherever that may
be. I don’t know, and that’s okay. My kids, and their families trust me, to take
their child step-by-step to wherever the road may lead us all...I need to learn
to trust myself to some extent as well- AND trust the people that are helping me
step by step, whether it’s my kickass therapist, supportive professors, and good
friends.
I need to be able to trust them with my thoughts, with my life- with my
vulnerabilities. Being vulnerable is probably one of the hardest things to do,
at least for me. In the past, when I have been vulnerable- it has been scary. As
a child, I couldn’t show any vulnerability’s for fear it may be exploited.
(Warning- hard subject), with the sexual abuse, I was vulnerable...and well, we
know what happens there...and it took several people doing this to me to learn
to find my voice to say no more. And I locked up my vulnerability as far as
those type of relationships go. With friendships, as a kid- you can imagine- I
was quite spunky, upbeat, extroverted, charming etc...and had lots of friends.
But of course a lot of it was a mask- no one had ANY idea what happened in my
home. And I wasn’t allowed to speak of it, nor did I want to. Of course High
School- everyone was judgmental and stuck up, so that is a no go. College- to
some extent I tried it, but of course...everyone eventually left my side because
it was too much. So showing any kind of vulnerability, so f’in hard. You have no
idea.
But now...I’m trying. I did have a difficult therapy session this session, but
not for many of the old reasons. It was difficult because I tried my best to be
as real as possible, to let myself down a bit and really talk. There were points
where I wanted to cry and probably could have, but just wasn’t ready to let
go...in time I suppose. Haven’t cried today, but I feel it every second.
“Well I know a woman with a collection of
sticks
She could fight back the hundreds of voices she heard
And she could poke at the greed, she could fend off her need
And with anger she found she could pound every word.
But one voice got through, caught her up by surprise
It said, "Don't hold us back, we're the story you tell,"
And no sooner than spoken, a spell had been broken
And the voices before her were trumpets and tympani
Violins, basses and woodwinds and cellos, singing”
"We're so glad that you finally made it here
You thought nobody cared, but we did, we could tell
And now you'll dance through the days while the orchestra plays
And oh, you're aging well."
Dar Williams, You’re Aging Well
My spell has been broken...I can feel the difference in every bone in my
body, in the way my heart feels, the hope and faith my soul has shown me, and
the way my mind has surrendered. I do feel such contradiction with in
myself- but that is okay- it’s comforting and uncomfortable at the same time.
It’s comforting because this is where I know I need to be and I’m in good
spirits because of that. It’s uncomfortable...I’m in territory I’ve never been
in! So of course I’d be unsure of just about everything. I FINALLY made it here,
people do car…and hell- I am finally aging well ;-)
So here I am. With so much yet to learn, but I have come so
far. While before I described myself, after break downs as “not lost or found,”
but I think now...I have been found at least to some extent. I’ve been described
by a certain someone :-) as, having good insight, kind, generous, loving,
intelligent, having humility, plucky, energetic, hopeful and driven. Haha, go
me, those are all good things I’m guessing.
I am alive...that is not only a testament of my strength, but of my courage
(yes, I’m actually complimenting myself haha). It was easier to run away,
whether it’s numbing myself, or using self injury to hide or wanting to commit
suicide. But somewhere, in all that horrible depression and my drive to
die...something inside me did want to live. I know this because somehow, someway
I did let people know my intensions. Even if at the time I didn’t mean to give
something away, some part of me did. Some part of me always wanted to live- I
just didn’t know how!
Until something clicked in my head, and that drive to die, became a
drive to live. I wanted to die to end my pain, to yes, make a permanent
solution to a temporary problem, to runaway because I didn’t know how to deal
with my feelings or my obstacles- and most of all my drive to die came from
fear...I was scared shitless...of screwing up, of making the wrong decisions, or
not doing things “right” and screwing my life up. Scared of feeling feelings, of
letting them lose- all of them…and facing up and owning up and being responsible
for myself, my actions and my life.
But then...I wanted to live. Plain and simple. How did that happen- I am not a
hundred percent sure- a lot of it was looking deep inside of myself...a lot of
it was good counseling while in Snowden, and getting support from friends on the
outside. And realizing that my worth was not dependent upon certain conditions.
And seeing one of my kids while in there helped too. And thinking about them.
I love my job, I care for these kids fiercely and I fight for these children,
who cannot advocate for themselves. And I refuse to set limits on these children
because all of them are capable of so much; they just need someone to believe in
them. And believe in them I do. And no, I’m not just living for them, because on
some level they need me…but the joy I receive from my job and working with them.
I do have some life purpose, at least part of it- is to help these children. I
have been given a gift...and that is the gift to be able to connect and work
with these children in a way that many people cannot. That is a wonderful gift
to have, and one I don’t plan on taking for granted.
And I have other aspects that I do like about myself. I am intelligent- though
my grades often do not reflect what I know (mainly because I know my life’s
work, and I honestly don’t give a rats ass about human geography or music
theory), but I know what I know. And I enjoy learning, mostly outside of the
classroom. I had a hell of a time with my recent autism research project...and
I’m right smack in the middle of a wonderful research project about Self Injury.
And I have at least two books in my head that I hope to become a reality one
day. I am curious by nature and have a great thirst for knowledge- I consider it
an asset and something I really do cherish.
My passion is evident- I’m passionate about my work, research, psychology in
general, children, hope, faith and I am passionate about life. After all the
shit that has happened, hell if I made it through ALL of that- I was SO meant to
live and I plan on embracing that!
By all rights I sometimes think I should be dead- from the times I have
dangerously overdosed and not told anyone, or the bad self injuring, or the
several suicide plans (luckily found out about), and the abuse I did take for so
many years, it’s a lot.
But I am here, for so many reasons. I do have faith, I do believe in God, and
though I rarely mention my own spiritual beliefs, I will here for a moment.
There are just some things in my life that I can’t explain through completely
logical reasons. First- the people that have been in my life and kept me going.
I was, of course, in school, generally on great terms with the teacher. Though
most never knew what was really going on, being able to talk with them about
school (my curious nature- I just always wanted to know more), helped a lot-
good distraction (I’m glad I was a good student for most of my schooling!). The
guidance counselor I had in high school- I know I would be dead without her. She
gave me the strength to be vulnerable a little bit- enough to send me in a tail
spin to get me help. And she didn’t leave (now that I think about it, my initial
belief that everyone has always left…is untrue). We still talk to this day. I
have no doubt she was there for a reason. And there was another staff member in
high school who has remained in touch. Though I don’t go into my troubles with
her, it’s good when I’m home for us just to hang out, be sarcastic and have some
laughs.
In my first year of college I met an incredible professor. Our personalities
were very similar and initial I told her nothing, but was just interested in
knowing more about psychology- so she was a great person to just sit down and
talk to different aspects of psychology. And of course our relationship evolved
to where it is now (lol she practically knows everything, but that’s not the
core of our relationship), where we are involved in so many projects and just
love talking about life and psychology. And she is still here- she’s seen the
highs, she has seen the lows…and just because she is my professor- doesn’t mean
she had to be a support...but she stayed. She is a very special person and I
think she has been put there for a reason (it was miraculous I made it into her
class freshman year- psych is hugely popular and I was late getting classes due
to getting in off the wait list). And there was another prof I got for English
fresh year, so we met, and then last semester (junior year) she was prof again
and when things begin to hit the fan and I went to Day Treatment…she was so
incredibly understanding. But that semester, we talked more about her son
(diagnosed with Asperger’s (in the autism spectrum), so I drew on my experience
and helped her figure out where and how to get help for him. No coincidence
again, I believe for both him and me. So this semester when things hit the fan,
though I didn’t have her in class, she found out and called me often while there
and was a support. What led up to all this, no coincidence. I’ll be working with
her son this summer!!! He’s another sweetie!
And finally, my counselor (so much could be said). I called about five different
ones...she was the ONLY one to call back. That is NO coincidence...you would
think a counselor would call back, you know! No way was she put into my life
without a little help.
And there are various other incidents and people that I have met, that leaves me
no doubt in my faith. And, I have faith in the big picture- I am alive for a
reason- there are things I need to do and accomplish. Perhaps I’m already doing
some of it...the kids I work with- that’s a pretty damn big impact. So my life
is going somewhere (just drives me nuts that I don’t know where lol). So I do
have faith.
And finally...I have hope...I don’t know if I ever lost it, despite what I may
have said. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be here if I hadn’t had hope at some
level, no matter how small.
”Hope begins in the dark, the
stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the
dawn will come.”
~Anne Lamot
You know, “I’m stubborn, determined and
persistent” so I figure...hope must have shared those damn qualities hehe. Thank
goodness. Hope pushes me forward…... think hope has made me look at my
reflection in the mirror and see the good.
“I stood in the bathroom, looking in
the mirror, and I didn’t recognize myself,” she says, recalling that fateful
day. “It was my face looking back at me in the mirror, but my soul wasn’t
there. It was just a body to me, and I didn’t feel part of it anymore. I
felt I had lost control of my thoughts, my emotions, and my actions. And
when you have lost control of everything, what do you have left?"
"Bright Red Scream" Marilee Strong
That is how I felt, exactly. But my stubborn hope did something incredible...it
made me look in the mirror and see more than just a body: It made me see me. It
put a heart and soul back into this face looking back at me. It made me smile
and say, “this is me.” It is interesting, how I did look in the mirror- and it
was just a body honestly...that reflection was nothing to me and so I refused to
look. What was the point? It just reminded me how life less I was (due to
stuffing and all that jazz).
Now that I FEEL alive…I can see it to...see it in my eyes (which give FAR too
much away lol). I found the light in my eye again. Ready to take on the
challenges before, ready to tell the stories, for they give insights into what
does make me tick- to help prevent any future journey to darkness, and help me
see what sometimes goes wrong in my life.
Now...I have hopes, dreams, wonders about the future, smiles and joy. I also
feel much pain, sadness, anger, fear. But...that is natural…hope is allowing me
to deal with both and to see both. I am alive, I FEEL alive for the first time
in years...no that’s not right…This IS the FIRST time I have felt this alive.
Yes...right now I’m in a lot of pain...but you know, thank God for that. It’s
about damn time lol. Weird to say, but it is wholly true. I want to feel this
pain, I want to grieve this pain (still need to learn that though), I want to
understand this pain, and then…I want to move on from the pain. And I must say,
I think I can make a list of about ten major things causing all of this pain and
I’ve decided...I’m just going to go through each one as they come, as I feel I
can handle them. Instead of wallowing in it, I’m ready to face it one by one and
come to closure, come to resolution. I can’t stay in pain forever. So it’s time.
Because….I also feel much joy. As much as it hurts to be in this mess with this
one child- I have so many joyful memories that no one can take away from me. Ha-
crying now…seems remembering the joy, brings the sadness. And there are other
things to by happy about.
So, to recap. I have a HELL of a LOT of feelings...but they aren’t in the box
anymore, they are out roaming, waiting for me take care of them. But it’s not
sending me into panic or depression- it’s sending me into grief…and much
awareness and understanding. And I am in very good spirits...just taking things
as they come and going on. Because life does go on, nothing has been
worth dying over.
Okay, this is my very long rant that I do sometimes when I feel like I’ve hit a
turning point. Don’t care if you’ll get stuck reading it and it seems endless-
these are my thoughts, honest and truthful.
I’m here...I’m alive...and I’m living.
And all I could eat was the poisonous
apple
And that's not a story I was meant to survive
I was all out of choices, but the woman of voices
She turned round the corner with music around her,
She gave me the language that keeps me alive, she said:
”I'm so glad that you finally made it here
With the things you know now, that only time could tell
Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are
And oh, you're aging, oh and I am aging,
Oh, aren't we aging well?”
Dar Williams, You’re Aging Well
And a note for someone: Thank you to the “woman of voices” for giving me the
language to keep me alive. Because you did, you know. I am looking back...but
then looking forward. I have landed right where I need to be.
I finally made it here. Thank You.