Feeling safe
The first "chapter" in the workbook is about finding/creating a safe place. If I have learned nothing else in DBT, I do know the importance of this. There is that piece of me that is all "hey, you know this, just skip it" and that is the perfect reason why I should not skip it. I've walked around all day with both rings on my left hand. We all know what that means. I am pretty proud of myself that I have gone almost 6 hours this way and nothing has happened. Only once has the thought to put my ring back on my right hand crossed my mind. I started to, then I stopped and left it where it was. In my mind I see Chris' white board with the little circled steps. Where can we intervene....here? here? here? here? I point to a spot, I say, "here, when I move my ring to my left hand." I'm not really sure what I am waiting on, or not waiting on. It is just where I am, kind of a standing here thing. Like long ago when I used to write about sitting down in the place I was at, afraid to move in any direction so I just sat down right where I was.
I have this little child in me today begging to be loved, begging to be forgiven. I emailed Chris about it earlier. Her multiple "I'm sorry" cries. It is not the littlest one. I know the chronological age of this desperate little one because I see her surroundings, I see her environment. She is younger emotionally than the body she encompasses. It doesn't match up. It is like at some point, a part of her stopped growing at the same rate as her physical self. Even now, those young pieces still exist, frozen in time somehow, as if they were able to splinter off and stay behind while the rest had to move on. Guess that explains some of the confusion when what I feel or "hear" doesn't seem to fit who I see. When you are seeing an 11 year old and hearing the voice of a 7 year old, it boggles your mind a bit and you start to doubt one sense or the other. Are you hearing what you think or are you seeing what you think. It makes it all even more confusing because you start to think that on top of everything else, now you cannot trust yourself either.
I'm still so angry. I am frustrated angry. When I got hurt in Argentina and came home I could hardly walk. My legs would go numb - partially or completely. I couldn't get them to do what I wanted them to do. I would try to walk and they would go out from under me without notice. My body would not do what I wanted it to do. It made me angry, frustrated angry. I didn't ask for that and there was not anything I could do. I feel a lot of those similar emotions - in regards to the anger. I feel frustrated. I feel frustrated. Frustrated that I have allowed myself to get into a situation that I should not have. And I am angry I am here. And I know the answer - well, yup, here you are, and can't change that, so what are you going to do. And that is what I don't know what to do. I feel like I am supposed to do SOMETHING here, and I don't know what. Thus, more frustration. Look in a mirror, tell myself I am big ass fucking looser, punch the wall, and move on? Quit my damn whining and carrying on? I can't fix anything, I can't change anything. What is, is. I am who I am, no matter who had a part in that. If the abuse made me a horrible person, than I am a horrible person. I just have to accept that and deal with it. I have to quit this dang hoping that I am something better because all that does is just hurt. Each time I look down the line, smile, and think, I am good, I am that (looking at goodness and light), the voices have a hell of time reminding me I am not. I know what I am supposed to do, and my mind and body is just so tired. I find myself desiring to do a whole list of things - scream at the top of my lungs, collapse in a corner and cry, and more. I won't. The demons will stop me just like they always do. The same ones that stop me from throwing soft things and scribbling until I break crayons. Must be proper, must be a lady. Which is so screwed up because acting "like a lady" is not something high up on my skills list. Yah, I can do it, yet it is not in my top 10 things I enjoy doing.
I do a lot of searching on line. Adult survivors, "I just found out", "I just remembered", and so on. It doesn't help. Most things I find in regards to adults who are working through childhood abuse are either ones who have always had some idea or remembrance of the abuse, or the abuse happened at an age where they remember what happened in detail. So I search for toddler abuse and all I manage to find is stuff in regards to "is my toddler being abused." It makes me want to throw my phone across the room. It is like I want to scream, "there has to be someone out there who has gone through the same thing!" At least something similar. I continue to wonder, is this how I am supposed to feel? Am I overreacting? Am I exaggerating? Am I not reacting enough? Should I be over this by now? Should I not be bothered by this since it was so long ago and I don't fully remember it? Sometimes I am like, "Where's my 35 for this?" Not that I would ever wish this happening to someone just so I had someone to talk to, that would be a horrible thing to ask for.
Still want to hurt myself. I guess it is more that I just want to hurt. I am desiring that "game" where physical pain will make the emotional pain go away. That's really all it is. I just hurt so bad inside right now and I can't put it into words, not even on paper, yet it just really hurts. I want someone to put their arms around me and hold me and tell me this is all going to be ok and I am not bad and even though the voices are telling me horrible things, I am still a good person. Yet, they are winning in taking that away from me. They have made me afraid to even have that. I am isolating myself and that is not a good thing, isolation is not a healthy place for me. I hurt myself when I do that.
And yet that is where I am. Rings still on my left hand. My soul aching with pain and hurt. A workbook with a chapter talking about feeling safe and creating a safe place. A list of questions to answer. I am not really sure how to answer them. Do I answer them in present time? Do I answer them in my timeline of the children? Do I answer them with the first thing that comes to mind? The book says there are no wrong answers. Chris says that too.
So here are the questions that lie ahead for me to answer...
I have this little child in me today begging to be loved, begging to be forgiven. I emailed Chris about it earlier. Her multiple "I'm sorry" cries. It is not the littlest one. I know the chronological age of this desperate little one because I see her surroundings, I see her environment. She is younger emotionally than the body she encompasses. It doesn't match up. It is like at some point, a part of her stopped growing at the same rate as her physical self. Even now, those young pieces still exist, frozen in time somehow, as if they were able to splinter off and stay behind while the rest had to move on. Guess that explains some of the confusion when what I feel or "hear" doesn't seem to fit who I see. When you are seeing an 11 year old and hearing the voice of a 7 year old, it boggles your mind a bit and you start to doubt one sense or the other. Are you hearing what you think or are you seeing what you think. It makes it all even more confusing because you start to think that on top of everything else, now you cannot trust yourself either.
I'm still so angry. I am frustrated angry. When I got hurt in Argentina and came home I could hardly walk. My legs would go numb - partially or completely. I couldn't get them to do what I wanted them to do. I would try to walk and they would go out from under me without notice. My body would not do what I wanted it to do. It made me angry, frustrated angry. I didn't ask for that and there was not anything I could do. I feel a lot of those similar emotions - in regards to the anger. I feel frustrated. I feel frustrated. Frustrated that I have allowed myself to get into a situation that I should not have. And I am angry I am here. And I know the answer - well, yup, here you are, and can't change that, so what are you going to do. And that is what I don't know what to do. I feel like I am supposed to do SOMETHING here, and I don't know what. Thus, more frustration. Look in a mirror, tell myself I am big ass fucking looser, punch the wall, and move on? Quit my damn whining and carrying on? I can't fix anything, I can't change anything. What is, is. I am who I am, no matter who had a part in that. If the abuse made me a horrible person, than I am a horrible person. I just have to accept that and deal with it. I have to quit this dang hoping that I am something better because all that does is just hurt. Each time I look down the line, smile, and think, I am good, I am that (looking at goodness and light), the voices have a hell of time reminding me I am not. I know what I am supposed to do, and my mind and body is just so tired. I find myself desiring to do a whole list of things - scream at the top of my lungs, collapse in a corner and cry, and more. I won't. The demons will stop me just like they always do. The same ones that stop me from throwing soft things and scribbling until I break crayons. Must be proper, must be a lady. Which is so screwed up because acting "like a lady" is not something high up on my skills list. Yah, I can do it, yet it is not in my top 10 things I enjoy doing.
I do a lot of searching on line. Adult survivors, "I just found out", "I just remembered", and so on. It doesn't help. Most things I find in regards to adults who are working through childhood abuse are either ones who have always had some idea or remembrance of the abuse, or the abuse happened at an age where they remember what happened in detail. So I search for toddler abuse and all I manage to find is stuff in regards to "is my toddler being abused." It makes me want to throw my phone across the room. It is like I want to scream, "there has to be someone out there who has gone through the same thing!" At least something similar. I continue to wonder, is this how I am supposed to feel? Am I overreacting? Am I exaggerating? Am I not reacting enough? Should I be over this by now? Should I not be bothered by this since it was so long ago and I don't fully remember it? Sometimes I am like, "Where's my 35 for this?" Not that I would ever wish this happening to someone just so I had someone to talk to, that would be a horrible thing to ask for.
Still want to hurt myself. I guess it is more that I just want to hurt. I am desiring that "game" where physical pain will make the emotional pain go away. That's really all it is. I just hurt so bad inside right now and I can't put it into words, not even on paper, yet it just really hurts. I want someone to put their arms around me and hold me and tell me this is all going to be ok and I am not bad and even though the voices are telling me horrible things, I am still a good person. Yet, they are winning in taking that away from me. They have made me afraid to even have that. I am isolating myself and that is not a good thing, isolation is not a healthy place for me. I hurt myself when I do that.
And yet that is where I am. Rings still on my left hand. My soul aching with pain and hurt. A workbook with a chapter talking about feeling safe and creating a safe place. A list of questions to answer. I am not really sure how to answer them. Do I answer them in present time? Do I answer them in my timeline of the children? Do I answer them with the first thing that comes to mind? The book says there are no wrong answers. Chris says that too.
So here are the questions that lie ahead for me to answer...
- Have you ever felt safe? _yes _no _I'm not sure
- If yes, describe one time you felt safe:
- What about that experience made you feel safe?
- If you haven't experienced feeling safe, describe some of the experiences or beliefs that have kept you from feeling safe: (People hurt me / I cant depend on anyone I I didn't know you could feel safe)
- For me to feel safe, I would need
- When I consider the possibility of feeling safe in the world, I
- Can I conceive of feeling safe? Why or why not?
- Do I deserve to feel safe? Why or why not?