Healing from Sexual Abuse – A Transformational Journey – Part 7

I fell asleep last night as I wrote that.  I am so exhausted.  Yet, woke up at 3 again but with Chuck on my mind.  I did tell him to see through his heart.  He is hurting right now and trying to deal with his own life.  I’ve been a little self-centered:

Spirit Dad:  No, you haven’t been self-centered.  You are there for him and what you are doing here is for both of you.  He is understanding that truth.

Me:  I let him into my heart.  I like him there, but my frightened parts are scared that he will go away.

Spirit Dad:  Good for you allowing him in your heart.  What a testament to your healing!

Me:  What if he just chooses to go away?

Spirit Dad:  Then he chooses to go away.  You are still a loving person.  You feel the sorrow and then move on stronger because he was in your heart.  You have a tendency to say good bye to people before you finish saying hello.

Me:  I did choose to allow him there.

Spirit Dad:  You did.  That is great!  When you allow people to enter into those protected places, you can only grow.  Love is greater than any pain or sorrow you carry.  This is what is so great about you.  You are experiencing all this grief, anger, and processing your human experience and you risk allowing someone, a man at that, into your heart.  The more you love and the more you receive love the more love comes to you.  Are you seeing the differences even during the short time we’ve been talking?

Me:  I do see the differences.  Chuck is the person, of course, predominantly in my life and I have opened up so much with him.  I don’t have a clue why.  Just a few months ago I wanted him out of my life and took steps to make that happen.  We would argue a lot – battle of wills sometimes.  It didn’t feel good, but it seemed to be our weird connection.

Spirit Dad:  You fought with him because you felt you were afraid of losing you and being abused again.  Both of you like control and you had come far on your journey and this was the way of interacting with him.  In fact, you used to fight a lot with men.  Now look.  There is no fighting.  You chose to allow him into your life and change the way you interact and it is good.

Me:  I guess I fight with a lot of men.  I don’t bother much with women.

Dad:  I know.  You have a hard time with women.

Me:  No surprise is it.

Dad:  No.  You were hurt terribly by men and women.  You chose to keep them all out of your life.

Me:  I kept them at a respectable distance.

Dad:  You got so lonely.

Me:  Lonely was better than pain.

Dad:  Is that still true?

Me:  No, I just don’t know how to change it all.

Dad:  You are doing it as we speak.  It is slow, but you are processing through it.  You are doing a great job no matter how hard it is.

This process has been exhausting and frustrating at times.  I seem to be growing through it.  I am opening more and understanding more.  The hateful, angry energy towards my father seems to be releasing somewhat.

Dad:  It is very important for you and your mother to continue talking.  It is critical for your process.

Me:  I don’t want to talk with her.  It gets the frightened parts all worked up and it is hard to stay present.  I shut down and don’t know what to say to her.

Dad:  Reassure the parts that they are safe.  We are in spirit and incapable of hurting them in any way.  Shutting down is an old choice you made to cope when things are difficult.  Can you consider moving past that place?

Me:  What do I say?

Dad:  As hard as this is for you, let her lead.

Me:  I am tired.

Mother:  I love you and want us to speak.  My love is so great for you and I want to see you move through your journey.  Because we were so close in spirit, I know your heart and your companionship.  I know you would want me to push through for your higher good.

Me:    It is so hard for me to hear you say those things because you were so cruel to me as a mother.  You didn’t say you loved me.  You did say you hated me.  You belittled me, humiliated me, shamed me, beat me and God knows what else.  I didn’t have your love.

Mother:  What you say is true.  In human form you were a motherless child.  You wanted to know what it felt like to be stripped of everything to have your soul ripped apart.

Me:  You certainly did your job well.

It is hard for me to hear her in spirit.  I can’t separate spirit and human in her because everything is so raw inside of me.  So much hurt.

This is a slow process talking with mother.  Twenty-four hours have passed since last writing.  Something different happened tonight at my daughter’s house.  I was babysitting the younger boys and said in my head “mother and father look at my grandchildren.  Aren’t they amazing.”  It was weird because I just went there without thought and asked them to see them.  It was like I wanted them part of my life somehow.  How could that be?  Have I come that far?

I was so tired last night and actually was sleeping.  However, my foot and then the nerve and tendon that was damaged started twisting into wrenching pain.  It has been so long.  It went on and off all night long and I woke up exhausted.  Not sure why the foot and leg acted up last night.

Dad:  Could you will the pain away?

Me:  I tried, but it wasn’t going to be willed away.  I could only heat it and wait until it subsided.  Then I would sleep and it would start all over again.

Dad:  Pain is a gift that tells humans they are alive and moving towards health.  Your foot and leg is an external representation of your emotional pain.  Your emotional pain won’t kill you.  It will hurt and you will grow stronger because of it.  Your foot is growing stronger.

Me:  I am blocking out the pain right now with mother.  I’ve shut down.

Dad:  Yes you shut down and your foot is manifesting that pain.  Tell her how you feel.

Me:  Ugh.  I had a dream this afternoon.  I don’t remember the dream, but I woke up really sad.  I’m taking so many risks in my life right now and the frightened parts are scared.  I want to protect them and keep them safe.  If I do that, then we never grow and we always stay the time.

Dad:  Talking with your mom is one of those risks.

Me:  Already I can feel myself going away.  I am tired and disconnecting.

Dad:  Choose to stay present.  You can do that.  You know how to do that now.

Me:  Mother, I am so insulated against you.  I feel these strong brick walls surrounding me.  I just don’t know what to say to you and the feelings aren’t there.

Mother:  We could pretend that everything is okay with us.  We did that already in human form later in life.  You never told me how you felt about anything.

Me:  We had an unspoken agreement that I was the bad person and we weren’t to talk about it.  How could I ever tell you how I felt about anything?  I sent a letter once and your response was to still blame me for everything.  You never took responsibility for what you did.  I carried it.  You acted like a victim and I had very little respect for you.

Mother:  In human form I was unable to see that I had responsibility for anything wrong.  I couldn’t look at the truth of who I was so you had to be wrong and I had to be right.  I had to be the long suffering mother.  The objective for you was to find your own truth in spite all that we did in human form.

Me:  I lived with the guilt and responsibility all of my life.  I trust no one and I expect that people are out to harm me.

Mother:  You used to feel that way.  You have been and are moving past that.  You are beginning to choose trust and it is painful for you because it means you feel vulnerable and may get hurt.

Me:  It has been very hard.  You hurt me so much.  You set me up for my father to sexually abuse me.  You set me up to receive his beatings.  You slapped me silly and dragged me by my hair.  You threw me against the wall.  You made me hold my hands under scalding water until they were beat red.  You put my hand on the burner.  Just mentioning those things makes me sick to my stomach and made me hate you so much.

Mother:  Keep talking.  You need to get it out.

Me:  You created crazy in me.  Damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.  If I didn’t choose the right clothes to wear you would ask what was wrong with the other clothes.  It was crazy making.

Mother:  Yes it was.

Me:  You made me responsible for the family.  You made me look like I was the bad person when it was you and you let me take the crap from my father.  You did that.

Mother:  Yes.

Me:  I wanted your love.  I loved you as a little girl.  I remember one time I was lying on the couch with my head on your lap.  I don’t know if that had ever happened which is maybe why I remember it.  My sister came in the room and you literally pushed me off so she could cuddle up next to you.  I needed you, too, as a little girl.  I needed your love too.  I needed your comfort and you withheld all of it from me.

Mother:  Keeping you apart from love and acceptance aided you to your desire to understand suffering through suffering.

Me:  Bull shit.  I am tired of hearing that crap.

Me:  You used to laugh at me all the time.  You got my brother and sister to laugh at me.  You thought it was funny to humiliate me.

Mother:  In human form I was cruel to you.  In spirit, I was fulfilling your goal

Me:  How am I supposed to buy that?  It is ludicrous and you are using it as an excuse to cause great bodily, emotional and spiritual damage and not to have to take responsibility for it and make me responsible and carry it.

Mother:  No, I created those experiences for you.  It is important that you come to an understanding that you are not to blame.  You are beautiful and you are love and you are kind and compassionate.  You are so different from so many.  Your soul may have been shattered, but there is a core piece of you that remained intact to be able to withstand the atomic bomb within you and still have love and compassion for other people.  Are you aware of how amazing that is?  People who endured much less are unable to have love and compassion for other people?

Me:  You are right in saying I care deeply for other people.  I’ve always been taught that other people are more important than I am.  I’ve been taught to understand their feelings and how my choices and behavior affect them?

Mother:  We did teach you that you had no value and that other people are more important than you. Who taught you to understand other people’s feelings and how your choices affect them?

Me:  You and father.

Mother:  We did not directly teach you that.

Me:  Then who did?

Mother:  No one.  That is who you are.  You have the ability to see into people’s pain and love and accept them.  We didn’t teach you that in human form.  That is your spirit.  That is your strength.

Dad:  You need to take the same empathy and apply it to yourself.  Love and accept yourself.  You are the wonderful love expression of God.

Me:  I still feel cut off from my feelings right now.  I feel sad but don’t really know why.

I just want to be like other people. Normal.  I want to feel confidence in myself.  I want to love who I am regardless of what other people feel towards me.

It is another day and yet more sadness permeates my being.  I want to move past this sadness and yet don’t know how to right now.  The experience of sadness is challenging for me.  I’ve always been angry to keep the sadness away.  Anger is so much easier.

Mother:  What does it feel like to feel like a motherless child?

Me:  It feels like you were never there for me emotionally or spiritually.  You provided the necessary physical needs, but not the love and the support.  A child needs that so much to feel connected.  I never felt that and I struggle with being connected to anyone.

Mother:  That is emotional abandonment you feel.

Me:  Yup another gift from you.  Total loneliness.

Mother:  What do you want to do about it?

Me:  I choose to remain connected and yet the piece of connectivity seems to always be absent.  It is so hard for me to believe that I am lovable and someone could possibly love me.

Dad:  You are so full of love for so many people.  You even loved us even though we created so much pain for you in human life.  Your capacity to love is so great because of all that you suffered.  You need to find that love within and allow love for you in whatever way it comes.  The connectivity will come when you can love yourself unconditionally.

Me:  I am having such a hard to believing that right now.

Dad:  I know you are.  Just agree to be open.

Me:  I remain open and I want to shut down so much.

Dad:  Shutting down perpetuates the abuse.  It keeps you from living and experiencing life in its fullest.  That means yes you will be hurt and you will also experience joy.  Life isn’t one dimensional.  It is multi-dimensional and you are a part of it.  Open to receive all that there is for you to receive.  Look at the pain you suffered and let it transform you; don’t let it bind you.  Grow with it.

Me:  I wish mother would go away.

Dad:  I know you do, but she is here and you need to process with her.  You keep running away from it.

Me:  I don’t know what to say.  My heart feels heavy and I shut down.

Dad:  She is in spirit and loves you very much.  She can’t and won’t hurt you.  You hurt yourself by shutting down and shutting her out and focusing on what she did to you.  That is only part of your story.  There is so much more and for it to happen you need to move through this.

Me:  You two taught me well about hurting myself.  I hurt myself before anyone can hurt me.  I walk away before people walk away from me.

Dad:  We did teach you that you were valueless and worthy of being hurt.   It is over now and it is up to you to stop hurting yourself in all the ways you hurt yourself.  Stay and be present.  You are so worth it.

I am sitting here crying knowing he is speaking truth.  It hurts so much and I don’t know if I have the courage to stay and work it through.  It isn’t my m.o.  Walk away before there is hurt.  By walking away I prevent the fullness of my life and will constantly repeat the hurt until I stay.

Dad:  That is right.  You can do anything you choose to do if you want to do it.  It is all up to you.  We love you.

Me:  Mother, why did you tie me down?

Mother:  So I didn’t have to bother with you.

Me:  You put your hands over my mouth and I couldn’t breathe.

Mother:  I couldn’t stand your tears.

Me:  Ah – why it is so hard to cry.

Mother:  I understand in spirit that tears are okay but in human form they were hard to listen.

Me:  You cried.  You cried a lot.

Mother:  I did.  I was very unhappy in human form.

Me:  You drank all the time when I was small.

Mother:  I did.  I needed it to numb the pain.

Me:  You were absent from me.

Mother:  You had a nanny.

Me:  She wasn’t there all the time.  You tied me down because you couldn’t stand being around me.

Mother:  In human form I hated you as you kept me from having the life I wanted.  It wasn’t you I hated, I hated being a mother.  I was young.

Me:  Why did you get pregnant?

Mother:  I only had diaphragms and they didn’t work.

Me:  Why did you marry my father?

Mother:  I thought I loved him.  We were supposed to be together.  In human form, he was my way out of my house.  My mother was controlling and I wanted to be free.

Me:  You found that you had no freedom when you married my father.

Mother:  I got pregnant fairly quickly after being married.  It wasn’t my plan.

Me:  Did you love him?

Mother:  I thought I did.  I loved the idea of being married and out of the house.

Me:  You made a choice and made me pay for it.  How absolutely like you.

I am feeling angry with her and how silly to be angry.  I know that they did what they did because I wanted to experience the depth of separation from my soul, from love, darkness and abandonment.  Why would I choose that experience?  It has been a long fight to survive.  I’ve done it though.  I didn’t know they would do such horrendous things, but what would have worked like that experience?  Am I making excuses for them?  Am I trying to rationalize the experience to make it all more manageable?  No I don’t think I am.  This has been challenging for me to get my arms around.  Does accepting the truth change the suffering I endured or devalue me or my experience?  I don’t think so.  It just changes my perspective and an opportunity to express myself and learn more about my journey.  I have a headache again.  Talking with my mother gives me a headache.

Me:  What purpose did it serve you to tell my father to beat me?

Mother:  In human form I could maintain control over both of you.  I was manipulative.  You have a reason to be angry.  I can’t imagine what it was like for you to endure that level of betrayal.

Me:  It was bad enough being beaten by him.  It is worse knowing you set it up for him to beat me.  Your job as mother was to protect me.  Yet you took great pleasure in his abuse of me.  You raged at me as well.  I just had the picture of you pulling down my jammies and spanking me over and over and over.  You were so angry and you wouldn’t stop.  You are calling me names and yelling at me how much you hate me.

The memory is vivid.  I can see the jammies and my bottom and her wailing on me.  The little part is out again.  The fear and sadness and rocking.  The loneliness and despair.  No one to hear her cry no one there to protect her.  It wasn’t so much the beating it was the words the hateful words that were the worse.  One can recover from beatings, but recovering from the onslaught of words is always there deeply ingrained.  No wonder I struggle with hearing.  I hear this little voice inside crying “please don’t leave me mommy.  I promise to be good.  Please don’t leave me.  I promise to be good.  I really promise this time.  Pease don’t leave me.>”  The tears are falling.  The isolation and abandonment are so real and so dark.  How did I survive all this?  How did I survive her abandonment and hatred and his sexual abuse and abandonment.  How am I alive today?  That is why at 5 years old I tried to kill myself.  I swung hire and higher on the swing.  I was disconnected and just wanted to hurt myself.  I was hurt.  No one wanted me anyway.  So I jumped.  I broke my arm and sprained the other and got a concussion.  No compassion from mother.  Anger that she had to take me to the doctors.  Such anger.  I just wanted her to care that is all.  I just wanted her to care and she was unable to care.  I still want someone to care.  It just doesn’t get better except I don’t believe I will die anymore.

Mother:  I had your brother and sister to take care and you were always doing something bad.  I had to leave them to take care of you.  I didn’t know at the time that your intent was to harm yourself.  I do now.

Me:  I am so sick and tired of hearing that statement.  You’ve no idea.  Did you ever consider that loving me might have changed me?  Do you realize that some of the stuff you were so angry with me really was the doing of my brother and sister?  David set a fire and told me to tell you and father it was me because they would believe that I would do that and they wouldn’t.  So I did.  Better me to get in trouble than him.  I just wanted you to see that I wasn’t bad.  I just wanted you to love me.  There is nothing for you to say.  There is nothing that can change the hurt for that part of me.

The tears continue rolling down my face as I experience the loneliness and the abandonment aching for her arms to hold me and comfort me.  She was unable to do that for me.  It made everything worse than it was.  The feeling of darkness and aloneness are pervasive.  Hard to experience now.  As a child how much worse.  The picture is a cave of darkness and a little girl sitting in the back of it – desolated.  Fearful.  Cold – so very cold.

Dad:  This is exactly what you need to experience right now.  It is what you shut out and yet affects every aspect of your life.  You stay in that cave so much of the time and you don’t even know it.  You don’t have to stay there anymore.  You can allow that part of yourself to come out and experience the light.

Me:  too fragile.  Too hard.  Too much pain.  Solitude and silence is the only safety.  You can’t rape her there, you can’t beat her there, mother’s words can’t hurt her there.  She is safe there.   She doesn’t want to come out and I don’t blame her.  The pain is intense.

Dad:  You are connecting with her if you are feeling her pain.  That is good.  You can start healing that part of yourself.  She needs you to carry the pain.  She has carried it all her life.

I hear her screaming.  She is so scared.  It is a fearful wailing.  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  I feel her in my throat.  I must go in after her and sit with her so she isn’t so alone.  I enter into the darkness and I see her eyes.  They are wide open and very much afraid.  I sit near her but not touching her.  I am not forcing her out of the cave.  I won’t ever force any part of myself because the choices have always been taken away.  It needs to be her choice.

Me:  Dad, you and mother have to leave.  I can’t do this with you guys here.  She is so afraid.

Dad:  We are not leaving you.  We are here supporting you with love.  The angels surround both of you.  We will remain silent.

I don’t know how to do this.  I don’t know why they stay.  I can’t worry about them.  I need to focus on this little girl.    I am not sure what to say so I sit quietly and wait for the words to come.  “Little one I am so sorry you had to endure all the pain and sorrow and that you were all alone.  I am sorry I left you in the cave to suffer alone when I could have found you and brought you back out.  I am sorry I ignored your wailing and your pain.  I am sorry that I haven’t taken care of you and kept you safe.”  I look at her and she isn’t budging.  What happened to you wasn’t your fault.  You weren’t bad.  You were just a little girl acting like a little girl.  No one understood your suffering and that sometimes you did things because of your suffering.”   I see a tear roll down her face.  She looks so tired.   “What do you want right now?”  No response.  “Can I sit a little closer?” She nods her head and I move to where I can touch her.  “I love you and want you to come out of the cave.  I promise to listen to you and to carry your pain.  You don’t have to carry it anymore.  It is too much for a little girl to carry.”   Her little lip quivers.  I open my arms for her to crawl into so I can hold her and comfort her.  I can take her pain.  It is mine and not hers.  She needs her freedom.  She hesitates and then slowly climbs into my arms and allows me to rock her.  I hold her tight and we rock together.  I ask her to release her pain to me.  I am absorbing her pain and it feels so hard and it feels like I am going to have a seizure.  It is so much and so painful and so dark and so sickening.    The brokenness is unbearable.  How much for a little girl to carry.  So cut off from love from people.  So much yearning to be loved.  I am taking it all in now and so aware of the level of suffering endured.  The very brokenness.  Mother’s hurt and abandonment was more than she could bear.  She might have handled it if the mother hadn’t been part of it.  Part of it?  What does that mean?  She knew and she chose to ignore it and was fine with it.  When she found me naked at night wandering the halls or outside she was so angry.  No comfort.  She knew.  I used to sleep walk as a little girl and I was always naked.  Did I sleep walk or did my dad take me outside.  I don’t know.  I see knives and experience the pain of penetration.  It is all rushing back on me right now.  I ask her to come with me out of the cave.  I promise her safety and that I now can manage the pain.  I ask her to go to the meadow with me where the others had gone before and there be united.  There the light is bright.  There it is warm and safe.  Another part of my soul is safe.

Me:  I am enraged at both of you for what you did.  How dare you do this to a little girl!  You both should have been tortured and shot.

They are quiet.  What can they possibly say except this was part of some great plan!  Screw them!

Spirit Dad:  We are here with you right now.  There is light around you.  Let it bring you some comfort and peace.

Me:  I don’t want you here.  I don’t give a crap about any agreement.  I care about that little girl and all that she suffered.

Spirit Dad:  Don’t let the suffering be the end all.  If so, all that she endured would have been in vain.

Me:  So much pain.

Spirit Dad:  Feel the pain.  Honor the pain.  Let it move you forward.  Don’t let the suffering be the end all.

Me:  I told you I didn’t want mother here.  You wouldn’t listen.  Neither of you ever would listen.

Spirit Dad:  You found a part of your soul because your mother is here.  That is very important and such a gift that your mother gave you.

Me:  So, I am supposed to be grateful?  Not.

Spirit Dad:  Not asking for gratitude.  Just want you to be aware of the value of her presence right now.  That very hurting part of you so hidden away that even the word of your mother caused her to tremble, was just brought out of the darkness into the light.

Me:  I am so tired.

Spirit Dad:  Yes, and it is time to rest now.  Let the angel wings wrap themselves around you giving you comfort and light and warmth.  Remember we love you and you are not alone.

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This entry was posted in EMDR, Emotional Abuse, Loving Self, Physical Abuse, Prison, PTSD, Sexual Abuse, Transformation and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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