Three days after my first session.
I went there with a headache but I came back with the mother-of-all headaches. I realized afterwards it was ‘cause I was attempting to keep face…no crying, please… we’ll be able to make better use of the time if i’m not continually blowing my nose or wiping my face… Seems logical. Right? Thinking I might have physically processed better if I just give myself permission to be messy. Hence the headache.
We only got to the first three years but still I was baffled by the result.
At the mere age of three I had thoughts about wanting to be someone else. It wasn’t a fictional character or even a stranger. She was my age, looked kinda like me too, she was my friend.
I don’t remember a feeling of not being safe but still I remember Fear. I think Fear has kinda always been there…
By Age Three I had lived in three different countries, three different states and a lot of homes. Memories of being in the back of a car, on the go. We were always on the go. It was our norm and would continue to be my norm for a few decades to come. The memories that are the strongest are either with by big sister, my fluffy white dog or by myself. My big sister AL is only six years older but she was always more of a mom than a sister. She didn’t play with me but she watched me, took care of me and kept me in line. It came naturally to her but now I think it was also expected of her. AL had to grow up fast and me, I don’t think I had any intention to. Mom had two different husbands these first years. She was very young and life had been rough. I think she was trying to find herself and that was the journey that we were on. So Dad wasn’t my biological father but he was there at my birth. I always add that in there. I think it’s my “short-cut” way of explaining that he loved me even though we weren’t from the same bloodline. He was AL’s biological father and at times that was hard for me. It wasn’t until I was in my early twenties that I realized my Dad’s unconditional love for me and when I did that insecurity disappeared.
So what’s my “why”?
All these years later I started breaking down- physically, mentally and then spiritually. Earlier this year I realized that I needed to fix something that was broken with me. Over forty but it’s been what some would say more like four human lifetimes. There’s plenty to look at but the malady was as visible as a blinking neon sign at night. A total absence of self-care, it’s a miracle I’ve lived this long. My self preservation was mostly entailed with me walking away, even running away from horrific situations.
I came to the conclusion after a couple months of putting focus on something I hadn’t incorporated into my life before and not getting the results I wanted that I needed help. This isn’t like going on a diet or starting a new job. So this is it. Hopefully it ends with me finally loving myself, or maybe it will be the start of something completely new.
