Mothering the child.

Many times I’ve just wanted to give up on life . The pain of the abuse seemed overwhelming. I wanted it to stop and translated that into feeling, I want to die. But I would reach that point of wanting no return and realise it was the pain of the trauma I wanted to stop, not my life. That’s normal with overwhelming Complex PTSD, to feel like that. Sometimes I would shout out loud, Come on then give me your worst! when I was dealing with a memory or flashback. Resistance seemed futile, so let’s claim this pain as mine , let’s befriend it, let’s stop fighting with it. It’s raw and it’s blowing a fucking big hole right through me. I’m going to get out of it’s way and give it what it needs, my time and silence and love and care. All the good stuff I can give me. To hold , and nurture and be there and give love . To parent and Mother. This was the solution to my pain calming and being soothed in the end. I asked so many times, when is it going to stop ? I never thought it would stop but the intensity of wanting to die passed. I carried on living and continuing to feel my trauma, because I knew it was now or never, I wanted to try and build a life with internal peace, to grow old in peace and just transcend the past. I discovered my pain just needed to be heard and felt and held. There were times in the early days of dealing with the abuse when I first got clean and sober, when I was having terrible flash backs, they just kept coming. I was being purged because I’d put all the chemicals down. The only way I could cope with the emotional, mental and physical pain was to sit as still as I could. I was being flooded with fear and adrenaline, reliving the memory, seeing and hearing and sensing everything about the past in that present moment and I found all I could do was sit myself in that moment and just let it play out . If I sat still enough for long enough and Mothered myself through it, it would pass, and it did pass . The stillness and the silence allowed a space for the trauma to come out of me. I mean I wanted to run, to fight, obviously that’s what you do with life threatening trauma, but I learned slowly that if I sat with it and let it pass through me that acceptance took less energy than fighting and resisting it. I’m not saying this was easy, most times it was agony, but I needed to find a way that was gentle . I needed to find a way that was loving. I made a commitment to the child that I was when I got sober that I’ll do whatever it takes to get her free from the trauma of the abuse, no matter how painful. I will honour you! Resistance really was futile because did I really want to stop the child parts in me feeling ? No, that’s what my abusers did to them. I love my child parts. I always have, that’s why I choose to feel my pain over dying. My vulnerability, their vulnerability, has been my strength, my power and the door way to my truth. I became unafraid to be broken because the liberation of my truth lay within my suffering and sorrow.

I discovered if I can become the best Mother I can be to the child that I was then anything is possible. I didn’t get what I needed back in my childhood but that does not mean I cannot give myself what I need. I have those resources within, I knew I did in the early days, because I was still breathing. I had not given up on life despite all the suffering and that meant I valued my life. The commitment that I made to the little girl that I was became the beginning of being my own parent. My own Mother. A day at a time I try to do this. I don’t always get it right, but I am a good enough parent today to all my parts. That for me is taking responsibility and learning to grow with whatever unfolds from my PTSD.