In my morning pages today I found myself pondering whether I like my new tattoo or not. I’ve posted it here, 2 birds in flight, it matches with my wife. It represents our identical twin pregnancy flying away, a dream removed without warning or time to prepare. A major disappointment. An earth shattering grief. The pain can be recalled at any second, but as we humans are wired for resilience we are back up and running and re-shaping our plans.
We got the tattoo on a moments notice in downtown Ansonia. I had just cut off all my hair, and my head was freezing, and my identity shaky. Who was I now? I went from the girl next door with her long hair that often hinged on the, “but you don’t look gay”, and “you’re so pretty” compliments for shelter, to someone I didn’t recognize in the mirror. Shocking.
I was suddenly transported back to childhood when I would stare long hours in the mirror wondering if the soul that was housed within, was the same as the body without.
Could anybody see me really.?
I’m still looking in the mirror and wondering. Waiting for evidence this way or that. If suddenly a client leaves then it must be my radical new appearance, analyzing everything. A disease really. Could the tattoo on my wrist so unlike my conservative self that was deeply forged in childhood, the one taught to constantly be observant for shame, signal something about me I don’t want?
Will someone think I’ve been to jail? I look at it and sometimes identify myself with some of the judgments people make about tattoos and that helps me connect to compassion for all misunderstandings we have about ourselves and others in this world.
My mind expands and so does my heart.
As I was writing my morning pages I wanted to share an excerpt because this is trauma and what it does. It may not go across as meaningful as I experienced it. But what I can tell you is that the words cascaded onto the page almost as if someone else wrote them and they evoked emotion.
That has to be the real magic they talk about of writing. It happens through us. It isn’t thinking, its feeling set to open space and room for what arises without judgment. That last part is the toughie. Without judgment, how does one do that amongst so much?
Loving myself better, for the right reasons, and thoroughly inside and out has been a life long pursuit for me. I’ve been fortunate enough to navigate myself into a position to teach others what I have learned about this journey through my counseling practice, and really through the way I live my life personally. And there’s still much work to be done. A lot of thinking this morning on how I want to be in my loving, when to be soft, when to be strong, when to bend so nothing breaks and knowing the boundaries on what is my part of the work, and when it’s outside of my control and something laid down long before I stepped on the scene.
Loving myself with my analytical nature, loving myself for my quirks, loving myself when I’m making mistakes, and being gentle, as I navigate this I’ll be better at doing the same for others.
This journey is not for the faint of heart.
So I was writing about my battle between nice girl next door who is nervous about what everyone thinks of her, and rebel without a cause who gives 0 fucks. I try to make my way toward the second, but my body even defies this option. I will always care more than I want to about everything it seems….
“A self on ice”
(A depersonalization separation disassociation until reunification)
A rebel whose stomach quivers
At the slightest disturbance,
I am a fraud my harpy critic shrieks.
All these selves will give way to
A little girl huddled down for safety
Holding her nighty night blanket
Sucking her thumb.
Where is she?
Give her back to me, I need her.
I left her.
When I am cold and hard,
I’ve left my child
And I’m guilty for it.
I stumble forward numb
Hoping to feel any connection
Scrambling for it.
That smile she had,
It was beautiful,
She lit up a room with her enthusiasm.
She’s died
A thousand times I’ve mourned her.
Each self built she went further
Underground
Until I stopped to dig and find her.
These years of doing that have
Been the hardest and the best.
I knew to love as you all deserve
I had to look at her,
See her suffering,
And not turn away in shame.
I had to hold her,
And I keep having to do so,
And it’s changed my whole world.
Fierce drive no longer cuts it,
Stopping to think how I feel,
And others as well,
Beats cold stubborn drive any day.
Now it does anyway,
But in the world of the trauma
Survivor
It’s one minute to the next,
Frantically meet that need at all costs
Zoom zoom
Leave all feeling behind
Assess situation,
find safety,
seek comfort
Run fast
No where in that is
Stop to feel
Be at peace
Love yourself
Rest
Now I am here
Seeking
Balance
No one told me
That thawing out
Could be this hard