For years I self medicated my PTSD with alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t a choice I made, addiction was vital to get me through the day. Chemicals worked so well at helping me forget the truth, too painful to bear. Addiction was what I had to do to live before I could become conscious.
I was self destructive when I was drinking. Fuelled by rage at the abuse by my family, and a deep longing to be free to be myself, I acted out this distress in life, causing harm to me and others. I was disconnected from myself, from life. I existed to bury and dampen down the wounds at any cost. There was huge conflict within me. For although I wanted and needed to keep the pain down, I also had integrity from my soul and the child inside me, both needing to express everything I was never allowed to feel. So there was an inner battle, fuelled with chemicals. It was a fight between life and death really. Between living and feeling, or dying from addiction.
In the end I chose life. Or life chose me. I got clean to face the trauma I was carrying. I was obviously damaged from my childhood, hence my diagnosis of Complex PTSD and Dissociative Identity Disorder. My development was delayed and interrupted. When I finally became sober the child I had been, who could not tell any of her story, was patiently waiting for me to hear her, to see her and to feel her. So began the telling of her story to me through memory of mind and body. I remember those early days of recovery when I was thawing out from the chemicals. My mind starting to give me the truth from my childhood. I can’t deny it felt like some massive rush. Energy being released into my body, adrenaline pumping, sweating panic attacks, and then as if in some time machine, I would travel back to be the child I was, experiencing the abuse. It was so emotionally painful I would only be able to sit with it, not move but just hold the pain. Still. Exploring my memory as if it was yesterday. Overwhelmed from the whole experience of being in the truth and realising I had spent so long trying to run from it. Yet here it was. It’s impossible to put that feeing into words. The understanding that I had spent so much time trying to forget, to survive, but all that effort had done nothing to lessen it. The truth, my truth and there was nothing that would keep it down. I’d tried it all, right up to the point of almost dying. The truth just waits, until you are ready. At least that’s what mine did. So one night after a particularly bad memory I made a decision for myself. A commitment I would stick to. I made a commitment to the child I was, that I would do whatever it took to heal from the abuse. No matter how painful. I would be honest, take responsibility, do the work, do the therapy and return to myself, the child my soul had hung onto, buried underneath all the chaos and hurt.
Excavation work I called it. Layer by layer I have worked through it, am still working through it. I guess it’s a life time job. I don’t see an end to it, I don’t want to stop growing, learning to become more free from my demons. With Complex PTSD there is always more to surface, just when you think you might have reached a point where there is nothing else to deal with, up it comes ! Recently my dreams have been horrendous reminding me of my family and their betrayal of myself and my brother. My sleep has been interrupted, my physical pain levels have been off the scale from my nervous system being triggered. It’s exhausting. I have days when I just want it all to end. I’m not suicidal anymore like I was, but you just want the pain to stop, that’s a normal desire. Through EMDR therapy I have found a way to live in peace with it all, even if I struggle and stumble, I can now find a way back to feeling safe eventually. I completed 7 years with EMDR therapy, and what I learned, among so many things ,was that my mind wants to be well, it is it’s natural state of being. That gives me so much hope.
By making that decision to commit to heal, no matter the pain, I set a boundary for myself. It was to chose life in all its wonder. It was deciding not to die anymore. I could not have done this alone. Wonderful people have been put in my life to help me because I was ready to ask for help. I was totally alone as a child, self sufficient as a survivor. In choosing life, in committing to myself I had to ask for help. It wasn’t easy at first, I hated to do it, wasn’t used to it, but I learnt, and it became easier over time. Something was awakened in me by remembering the truth. It was my child’s curiosity to continue looking, exploring and asking questions. That curiosity became so strong within me, it stays with me always. I wanted to get to know the little girl I was. To find out how she managed to stay alive, how she did that, what helped her.
If you are a survivor of child abuse don’t give up on getting to know your own inner child’s story. It is the source of such love and power. For me it is the reason I was able to chose living, because from my little girl’s story came my endless compassion for her. This compassion keeps me alive, it warms me now and gives me love and kindness. It is what was waiting for me all the time.