March 20, 2007
Broken to Pieces
I'm going to be out of town for Spring Break next week. I had a new part emerge that scares me to my core (way more than Sentry did in the beginning). I think she's very identified with my perpetrator parents. I decided to put working with her and my therapist on hold until I get back into town. I just don't want to be left hanging in the middle of something huge and scary while I'm out of town and away from my therapist.
So, yesterday, at my T appointment, I ran this past my T and we moved on to "lighter" topics (are there really any light topics?). I decided to run a few physical complaints by her. I've mentioned these to mental health providors in the past and never really gotten anywhere with it. I think I've mentioned these trouble makers on my blog. One is the annoying problem of not being able to swallow food sometimes (unfortunatley, this has not led me to become thin).
My other physical problem is really causing me to lose sleep lately. When I sought advice from a medical doc about it, he wanted to do surgery so I walked out of his office. It's the old complaint about my arms falling asleep and going dead on me again. When I think about the assaults where my arms were pinned down, I can't help but think that this complaint has a trauma component. I seemed to get some relief from this for about two years when I was going to another therapist twice a week and doing a lot of trauma processing. My current T suggested that I inquire within myself as to what this symptom was trying to tell me.
So, this morning after about the millionth time that the rest of me was awake because my arms were asleep, I asked for the message. What came to me was loads of grief--not fear as I would have suspected.
We've all had our hearts broken at least once, right? I know I've been through that kind of "lost love" grief more than once. But, how do you mend the broken heart of a child? How do you pick up the pieces after the ultimate betrayal by the parents who were supposed to love and care for you?
I feel like the proverbial Humpty Dumpty. My heart is broken to pieces, as well as my mind. And all the king's therapists and all the king's doctors will never be able to put all my pieces back together again.
I have been trying to put little keepers hearts back together again ever since I found out they existed, so for over 20 years. At times it is successful to a point, they know how I feel about them, but all it takes is a trigger and they are back there again, feeling the hurt and pain all over again. Keepers bigs had to accept the little keepers to alieve some of the hurt also. I wish I had better insight, after 20 plus years you would think I would. I try to give them what they never had, birthdays, Christmases, gifts for them, gists they will still play with, heck me and littles play games, read stories, etc all which helps them and me too. Be kind to them, be supportive to them and love them, they are a precious part of you and always will be. Cherish them always.
thinking of you and your littles
I can also relate to the arms going numb. Do you know that numbness of the extremeites is a symptom of a panic attack that actually has a purpose? PAs are a part of the fight/flight condition - your body pulls blood into the areas that need it most (heart) and away from the extremeties. The extremeties - arms, fingers, toes are the most vulnerable to predators and most likely to get hurt. That pulling back of blood flow can cause tingling similar to if your arm falls asleep.
I'm glad you are getting away for a few days. ENJOY and RELAX.
I can identify with the arms going numb thing, but until I read this post I never thought of it having anything to do with my childhood. This bears some serious thinking. Thanks for sharing that, you've given me some good insight.
I know what you're going through is extremely hard right now, and there are no easy answers. I'm not good at nurturing my parts, and I say this to my shame. I wish I were better at it!
Blessings to you as you continue the much needed (and sometimes agonizing) work of healing. We're all out here rooting for you!
For me, the most powerful technique was to imagine holding and rocking the child I once was. I let her tell me what hurt and why and how she felt. Then I reassured her that NOW she was safe, that she was loved (by ME!), and that she had always deserved to be loved and safe.
For a long time, every time I tried to talk about what happened, my throat closed up so that I could barely breathe--much less speak. Fortunately, the more I found ways to heal, the less common that became until now it never recurs.
Hang in there. Sending safe and gentle (((((((hugs))))))).
hope to hear from you soon and that things are getting better for you.
Meds help, but as a diabetic, I cannot use some (seroquel, ambien) too frequently.
Got to hang on, Iguess.
Thanks so much for your honesty and agile writing
much respect, thanks for visiting my blog.
Austin of Sundrip
Links to this post: