Part of me doesn't like telling the details because my PTSD tends to be heightened and the pain of going through it by speaking about it is tremendous. For most of the day after therapy, it was hard to take my mind off of it. Another part of me doesn't like telling the details because I don't know how the other person or people will react. Because I was told for so many years that nobody would ever believe me, it's kind of gotten ingrained in my head.
But today was different. She asked me questions and did not seem to be overwhelmed with what happened to me. I've had a few therapists even cry when I told them. And I wonder why. Because I don't usually cry about it. I think I've been kind of desensitized in a way.
The past few times I've told a lot of details, I've thought the people I was telling didn't believe me. As I told one therapist about my life, her eyes kept getting wider and wider. She looked confused and in disbelief. So I asked her, "Why are you looking at me like that?" She said, "I'm trying to take it all in. That's a lot for one small person to go through." You're telling me.
Therapy is something that I've usually found to be beneficial. Given the right therapist, I have been able to talk about my issues and move forward. Currently, I am talking about my traumatic experiences and also working on challenging my paranoid thinking.
As I've posted in recent posts, I've been dealing with some paranoia. I think that others are after me and that people are talking behind my back, conspiring against me. The last few days, I've been talking to people and they've been helping me to challenge these thoughts. For instance, I keep thinking about the possibility that everyone in town is against me. Wouldn't I know if everyone was? Why would everybody be after me?
Paranoia and psychosis are tricky to deal with. But through therapy, I'm managing the paranoia quite well. My therapist agreed that the paranoia is something that the meds might not help so I have to cognitively work through the paranoid thoughts. With the medication, it's at a level that I am able to do this.
Mental illness is not easy, especially with a history of abuse, neglect, homelessness and loss. But moving forward can be done. Slowly but surely. I am amazed at how resilient I have been and at how far I have come. Not a day goes by that I am not amazed that I am getting a Masters in December. I've been told that I've endured more than most people go through in a lifetime and I've accomplished so much. I've had people tell me they'd buckle under only one of the things I've gone through. My resilience comes from God's strength. I get up every morning because I know that each new day is from God.
A scene from Sister Act 2 just came into my mind, when a young boy sings "Oh Happy Day." When he first sings, he is really shy and you can barely hear him. But then Whoopi encourages and helps him. He bursts out with an absolutely beautiful voice. I think in the same vein, we need to give this life all we got inside of us. With the right encouragement, courage and strength, we can burst with love, peace and joy because no matter how difficult this life gets, we always know that God is beside us and within us. We can sing our song of God's goodness and grace to those around us.
Here's the scene:
No comments:
Post a Comment