Recovery: When the secret life is not so secret anymore

Yesterday was difficult.  I had to work hard to concentrate on finishing work and projects for the week while my mind swirled with memories and feelings.

Today was difficult because I talked with my cousin about future plans.  Plans that recalled memories and experiences that were hidden for a long time.  Memories and experiences I would have thought were hallucinations or nightmares or deja vu before I started therapy with a trauma specialist.

Now, I’m trying to reconcile that secret life with my other life, the one I lived in broad daylight, and my current life.  The nerd, the warrior, the woman who is both.  The “good girl”, the “rebel”, the woman who defies labels.  The fighter/the runner.  The raging monster who hurts people/the defender who can’t stand to see herself or others crushed under the pain of being put down all the time.

A good girl doesn’t do drugs, smoke, drink while underage, have sex without a commitment, listen to certain kinds of music, steal, etc.  I don’t and never have stolen anything.  As for the rest, it wasn’t voluntary.  But I did all of those things before I hit puberty.  Does that make me a bad girl?  Or a rebel?  And does choosing not to smoke or use drugs or have sex anymore once I could make my own choices make me a born-again virgin or good girl?  Does being able to fight make me tough?  Does being a pacifist make me a coward?  Does having a temper make me a monster?  Does not having control over my body make me weak?  Am I crazy because I feel so conflicted?

I want my body back.  My body wants me back.  All parts of me want to be physically active again.  We want to be able to fight in the daylight and use our nerd skills in the shadows.  And combine everything to combat the darkness threatening to pull us under.  I want to stop using food to hurt myself.  I want to stop using people to hurt myself.  I want to start exploring my true likes and dislikes.  I want to finish my projects so that my obligations are fulfilled and I can move on.

More than anything else, I want my secret life to shine in the light, unhidden and acknowledged with pride instead of shame.  My parts and I, we did what was necessary to survive.  We accomplished incredible feats together.  And those parts of me deserve the acceptance, respect, honor, compassion, trust, and welcoming that was refused to them before.  What they did kept us alive; taught us skills we needed to get through high school and college; helped us stay on track when the depression and suicidal thoughts tried to get us killed; and cut through the bullshit of family pressure and denial to keep us safe as adults.

And now that I’ve reconciled with one side of my family, the other side is hopeful that I might reconcile with them too.  But the relationships between me and each side of my family is different.  My experiences with them are different.  I am still so mad at some of my aunts, uncles, and cousins that I honestly don’t think I can speak with them again without letting the hurt loose on them.  I forgave those people when I forgave myself years ago.  I understand why they said and did what they said and did back then.  But I don’t want that in my life now either.

And there’s no guarantee that walking back into the fire will  have a different outcome.  That those family members have changed their opinions of me and will treat me differently.  Or that they are trustworthy to keep my secrets.

And that is the origin of my trust issues.  I am suspicious of everyone except the few people who have proven themselves to me.  Letting people in is difficult.  Balancing my need for solitude and privacy with socializing and valuing connections with people gives me a headache too.

So I am conflicted.  I am confused.  I am grieving.  And I feel so much that sometimes I go numb.  And when the dam bursts, my feelings explode.  And there are consequences to that too.

What happens next is anyone’s guess.  Thanks for your patience and for reading my post.

About Me: About Labels

I’ve read other bloggers who share information about their own recovery journeys and found them very helpful.  They offer resources, visuals, graphs, charts, and how-tos.  Their posts are well written and appealing to many different kinds of learners.  Their websites are free of many ads too.  Many thanks to any and all who break the silence barrier by writing and sharing their experiences.

One thing I most appreciate about their blogs is how they can define in specific terms what category their abuser fits into or what type of abuse they survived if the writer is a survivor of trauma.  If not a survivor or victim, then I appreciate how the writer can define so clearly the type of mental health issue he or she suffers from and all of the different types of coping strategies that work or don’t work with those particular struggles.

Because I can’t do that.  Not without leaving out or neglecting a group of individuals who have suffered in some way and come here for anonymous, safe support and resources.  Also not without delving deeper into memories and experiences not yet accessible to my conscious mind.  Many of my alters like to take turns and write posts here on the blog too. That means the quality and content are sometimes inconsistent and may seem unprofessional or unrelated to the topic.  But every post is some how related to trauma, abuse, neglect, recovery, and resources; that much I guarantee.

What I’ve shared so far is the tip of  the iceberg.  The focus has been on current events and present coping strategies.  I will continue to do that.  And as often as possible, one or all of the alters will try to remind the post author to include a photo or quote or something visual to go with the words.  That is difficult because at heart, I am a writer.  Words are my best communication tool.  But I want to connect with other types of learning and processing styles too, so adding in audio/visual elements is a personal goal to improve this blog.

And this is my hobby.  I wish I could dedicate more time, but work and life, maybe even graduate school in the near future, will take precedence.  If I knew of a way to get this site to pay for itself without using ads, I would do that.  Then I could dedicate more time to building the resource pages and more interesting posts.  And I could expand the website to offer other kinds of resources too.

But for now, this is it.  I write what I know.  I share what I learn.  And I hesitate to label anything because I am not a professional.  My therapist does not put labels on my parents other than  to call them sociopathic and psychopathic.  Nor does she label me or any of there other clients other than to call us trauma survivors.

She understand that I was a victim of incest by both parents and some family members by marriage; along with that was neglect, physical abuse, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, bullying, shaming, and financial abuse from my parents, sibling, family members, educators, physicians/providers, and community; finally  the sexual abuse from my pediatrician and his ring of pedophiles, cult abuse and ritual torture from the religious cult who ran under the guise of Mormons and had connections with the pedophile ring and drug connections within the community.

I’m 33 going on 34, a victim and a survivor.  I changed my name and moved across the country to try to get away from the negative influences of my past.  Now I have a chance to live without worrying that my past will haunt me every moment of every day.

So no, I don’t use labels.  I don’t try to figure out what kind of abuser my parents or other perpetrators were.  I do read a lot of books about internal family systems, intergenerational trauma, toxic relationships, shame, compassion, coping techniques, coping strategies, and whatever disorders are symptoms of my main diagnosis (PTSD).  Then I work on my own (with my alters) and with therapists to apply what I’ve learned.  Knowledge is power.

Understanding them and their motivations helps me understand myself and my reactions to the world around me.

It also gives me perspective so that I can separate the individuals from the behaviors and thoughts.  By doing this, I can hold the perpetrators responsible, can hate their words and actions, without blaming the human beings.

Blame enables shame, anger, and victimization.

Accountability, aka holding them responsible, fosters forgiveness, compassion, empathy, acceptance, knowledge, and healing.

Which would you choose?

Thanks for reading.