discover who you were always meant to be

Reedsyprompts #247 

With such seldom exercised optimism, I foolishly doubted that anyone, least of all, my family, would be unwilling to accept my transformation, nor understand the re-evolution of my identity. I irrationally hoped that they would also be able to see the same, incredible discovery of self; this metamorphosis of woman – mother, sister, daughter, granddaughter, niece, child, human, wraith, beast – that I finally held the ability to see. I preposterously choose the belief that I have always been the person who stands in front of you today, but in having neglected my truest self; now over the last five years, relearning myself and the ways in which I had been heard in the past, while re-imagining the way in which I was seen, not only by others, but by myself as well.

In my family’s defense, I haven't always been the person before you, who can (and really should), not only stand tall (more often), but with pride, as well. Reborn, anew, with a spine sculpted from a severed codependent relationship and the sheer strength, that I would only end up finding, through the very act of survival, itself.

I began composing an entirely different series within the volumes of my life story, about five years ago. Ten years before that, I was five years into a tragically abusive and dangerous lifestyle, living in a toxic environment and maintaining a grossly manipulated, codependent relationship with the (then?!), father of my children.

At that point, I was already dangerously disconnected from almost everyone I ever knew, slowly becoming a hermit. That is a fantastic metaphor, as a matter of fact. Not only was I simply the shell of the person I could have been, I was becoming fully removed; secluded and manipulated, into believing that I was completely and totally alone.

I was alone, regardless of any, and everyone’s, attempt to remove me from the situation that I had found myself abandoned in; defeated and lost to the rest of the world, altogether. He managed to maintain his version of “healthy separation,” between and across county lines, isolated from not only my family, but everyone I had ever known. He successfully managed to cause the inevitable cut off and detachment from, almost (almost) all, of my familial ties. I was disowned, by choice, based on the way the situation was handled (father offering an ultimatum, then became aggressive which just ended up pushing me further away, and further over the edge, as chances of climbing back up only slimmed.

The few remaining tethers that I managed to hold the threads of became loose. They began unhinging themselves and drifting away, each one, more quickly than the last, floating up and away. At the very end, only one (maybe two) of my sisters remained; left clinging selflessly and hopelessly to drops of dew covering the blades of grass which blanketed an imaginary meadow of our memories. I was alone, despite being blessed enough to share my life, love and maternal nature with four beautiful children. I was alone, despite “having a partner/ being in a relationship” (both of which were anything, other than), in the same way that anyone can (or rather can’t), have, when they’re stuck in an abusive, dead-end relationship. I attempted to drown my thoughts of escape, in the dark, numbing, freezing depths of water that had begun filling my lungs more and more every day.

It didn’t matter. My innate nature began to react subconsciously. My actions seemed premeditated, when I hardly even held the capacity to think at all, anymore. My dying mind and heart knew deep down that escaping was exactly what I would have to do to survive. My body reacted, and did what was needed, just as it continues to do every day, exactly as it does now, how it needs to, in order to survive.

I was polite and respectful in my youth, growing into an intelligent and inquisitive child, worthy of my parent’s pride and approval. As the oldest of five siblings with overprotective and strict, old school parents, I quickly became a rebellious, bitter, and deceitful teenager, less valuable in my worth now, having given in to a “sexually promiscuous urge” and “peer pressure,” or “the misuse of substances.” Eventually I would become a complete and utter disappointment, from roughly the point in which I received my diploma at my high school graduation, right up until about my 25th year, and the moment I would reveal the news that I had become pregnant with my oldest son, my parent’s first grandchild (at which point, I transformed from a daughter, into a mother, myself). At least, that’s how I’ve been made to feel I’ve been seen.

Why was I stuck? What kept me in that house, in those unbelievable circumstances, with those children?! The fact is, that I was completely and entirely frozen. Our bodies react naturally to dangers and expected dangers around us, constantly. Individually we all react differently due to our own personal histories and pasts. I can share some of what I’ve learned through my own reflective lens on my last relationship.

Trauma responses are recognized as “fight, flight, freeze, and (the more recent additions of) fawn and flop.” In simply just writing this piece, I’ve already learned a new type of trauma response (see #No 5 below), and a number of new factors that are now being presented as facts I hadn’t been exposed to, yet.

I’ve noticed that lately (and thankfully, gratefully), this area of mental health has slowly been gaining interest and therefore growing in momentum. When I began researching different kinds of domestic violence and narcissistic abuse five years ago, I was only able to learn the three ‘major’ responses, fight, flight or freeze, while at the time, fawning was a new type of response that was given a name, which means the human response to trauma is being explored externally as well as internally. Talk about personal exploration! If we seriously deconstruct our thought patterns, through a lens of all our past versions and former selves, everyone has the right to feel, and when dredging the backwaters of your mind, you almost certainly will. 

Now, throughout the course of your healing, know that you will most likely cause yourself to feel afraid, uncomfortable, anxious, confused, the likes – as you should. If we aren’t willing to peel back layers of ourselves; pieces of our pasts and histories (even our genetics and cultural backgrounds), memories of our pain and trauma, the whispered secrets of our stories, how do we intend to find ourselves ever again, at all? 

ABOUT TYPES OF TRAUMA RESPONSES I, II

1. Fight: The body faces a perceived threat aggressively, releasing hormones like cortisol and adrenaline.
2. Flight: The body urges the person to run away from danger, releasing stress hormones.
3. Freeze: The body becomes unable to move or act against a threat, becoming temporarily paralyzed by fear.
4. Fawn: The body tries to please someone to avoid conflict .
5. Flop: Becoming totally overwhelmed and physically and mentally unresponsive 

You could say that my moods were born tides of the oceans, currents of the freshwater lakes, I’ve been pulled into my entire life; because they are. You could say that her emotions were raging wildfires, spreading without any warning of their danger; because they are. That I, myself, am the moon, and the moon is I; coexisting through time eternally, in divine harmony with lunar flux and discontinuous synchronicity. Phases of myself ebb and flow with the changes of the moon and our tides.

As usual, the cosmos makes a mockery of my personal improvements and positive development. Regardless, I continue to push, just harder this time. I will continue to dig deeper into the terrain of my mind's deep and gnarled trenches. As if this type of self exploration weren’t already filled with uncomfortable emotions. As if the existing weight of my guilt and shame, coupled by eventual forgiveness and acceptance, weren’t already crushing me, every day; even after internal amends were made.  As if the fevered, harsh and rough, brushstrokes of my therapy’s self portrait, weren’t painful personal reflection enough. As if.

This creature of divine creation and intervention, is worthy of love, has a valuable life, and now knows herself down to her core; a genuine, empathetic and compassionate soul. I was someone else for so long. In fact, I honestly might have always been someone else entirely. Altered and transfigured more times than can be counted, always left to the mercy of another’s whimsy.

From youth onward, almost, if not all, personal joy fell by the wayside; if it ever existed anywhere, in the first place. Leading a defeating life, a hellish loop, a cycle of repetition; I continuously attempted, in vain (for more than a couple decades), to please everyone else... I still do, its an area that needs improvement). Selfless acts of kindness, shed upon even those, playing the most minor of non-speaking roles, active in the show of my life at any given time. I find it much easier to provide compassion and love for others, than I can to myself. These acts of love will be felt the same way a quick breeze gives pause from the heat of a summer day, is the same way that my acts of kindness, of love, of thoughtfulness, were always noticed and treated. Only, if ever, for a very short time (if ever even noticed at all).

I don’t think there could possibly be any better example of personal exploration than therapeutic counseling. One has to literally strip down their deepest thoughts and cloaked mentalities, buried beneath, tangled within and throughout, an entire life's worth of traumas and experiences. If it could be described in terms of “exploring the great unknown,” delving into the depths of depravity and desecration is some of the most difficult, introspection of the unknown, into our own internal deviance, can be frightening shadow work. However, once you’ve tread carefully around, over, under and into, the untouched landscape of subconsciously protected memories; one might finally then, through the means of psychology, be led to important and life changing findings, all with both obscure and profound discoveries.

Enlightenment.

That volume of my book is closed. I can say that I loved, laughed, but most importantly, I learned.

I learned that not only does my life have value, that I’m worthy of love. That acceptance and forgiveness are not optional in the healing journey. Learning how to love yourself, more than anyone can, is more important than finding someone else to.

          Last, but certainly not least, I will end this story, similar to the way that group today, ended:

What can be said, in terms of what I discovered during my personal exploration in group today, along my wayward journey of reflection, into forgiveness, and eventually healing, that I have, as I will continue to, break barriers in, daily, today?

I learned that - regardless of the harsh, critical judgments and opinions, usually blatant by obvious negativity from an overwhelmingly large group in individuals of the opposite belief - whatever stigma that still exists around the medication, and prescription of, drug treatment therapy's maintenance drugs, meant to correct the chemical in-balance he's not something I need to be ashamed of. I've taken a responsibility to - no, I owe it, to myself - to society, to my family, to my children

          Before you go, find at least one thing to take away from this story, from my story, from your own story, and use it to change someone's life – if you recognize similar traits or red flags, please don’t hesitate to contact a local physiology agency and seek the support necessary to move forward, one day at a time – especially now that you know you aren’t alone.

1. https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/what-does-fight-flight-freeze-fawn-mean#:~:text=with%20dangerous%20animals.-,What%20Is%20Fight%2C%20Flight%2C%20or%20Freeze?,to%20a%20calm%2C%20relaxed%20state
2. https://apn.com/resources/fight-flight-freeze-fawn-and-flop-responses-to-trauma/
3. https://www.ptsduk.org/its-so-much-more-than-just-fight-or-flight/