Nearly at the end of my counselling sessions and they are getting extremely difficult. We are touching on the details and the intricacies of the very things I have been most afraid of facing and the things I have avoided as long as possible.
I won’t go into details today (if ever) but I was reeling during and after the session. The whirlwind of terror around me was grabbing at me, curling tendrils of clawed fingers trying to drag me from the anchor point I had created by staring at the phone wire. Staring, staring, daren’t look away in case I lost myself.
The last time that kind of flash away happened was when I was in labour with my daughter. Her heartbeat had dropped and the midwives were worrying that her oxygen levels were dropping. The doctor was called, I was hoisted into stirrups and he took her oxygen levels. For anyone who doesn’t know how they do this they put a clip on the baby’s head whilst it is still in the birth canal and it isn’t the pleasantest of things for the mother. In the panic of the moment the midwives didn’t keep me informed about what was happening and, in my mind,, I was being violated. The urge to flashback to the days of my childhood abuse was intense and it was only the constant of Richard’s voice telling me to stay with him that anchored me.Today the anchor was the telephone wire – holding me steadfast in the moment.
Too many memories whizzing around, names, places, situations. All flashing round trying to drag me into the swirl and, for them, I need to find a way to forgive myself. To allow myself to believe it will be okay but then that leaves me vulnerable.
All my life I have had this locked away and it has been the core of me. What happens to me if me is no longer the same? Although it is painful and difficult to live with it is also strangely comforting as I know it. I know what to expect and I know how to deal with it so what do I lose when I finally lay it to rest? The unknown is all that is out there and I am petrified!