Monday, August 20, 2012

Processing

On Friday, I had an emergency EMDR session with Dee. Following the stress from the last couple of weeks, I was having multiple panic attacks. Dee managed to fit me in due to a last minute cancelation and we began the session talking briefly about the events that were triggering the panic before getting to work.

I've been using EMDR as a way of process both my pregnancy losses as well as the failed rounds of treatment, but Dee has been wanting to delve deeper for a while. As torturous as infertility has been, she believes that the trauma caused by a dysfunctional family is only exacerbating the situation. I need to be healthy if we are going to be able to proceed with adoption and part of being healthy means also coming to some resolution about the abuse.

As I clutched a Kleenex, Dee began the procedure. Digging deep into my past we revisited the first time I vividly remember being struck and verbally assaulted by my mother. I was 9 yrs old and my parents had left us in the care of a babysitter. The sitter had demolished the aquarium my mother had recently purchased and stocked. When my parents came home, she blamed me. So as my father drove the babysitter home, my mother climbed the stairs to where we were sleeping and began interrogating me. I don't remember what happened after my mother realized I had been falsely accused, all I remember is the pain and the tears.

As terrifying as that incident was, it turns out that wasn't the key to the panic. The key came while Dee was helping me reprocess that incident, reminding me that as terrible as all of that was I'm now safe. And the more she repeated 'your safe,' the harder I shook my head. Finally I opened my eyes and looked right at her. And I told her a tale I haven't spoken about in many years.

When I was 18 yrs old, I decided to get my first tattoo. Being from the midwest, there were only a few acts of adulthood that really appealed to me: I wasn't a smoker, I had no desire to gamble, joining the military wasn't my idea of a good time and strip-clubs didn't have much appeal. In addition, I had been dreaming about a tattoo for a couple of years. On my 18th birthday, I quietly left my parents' house and walked into a tattoo parlor for my first tattoo. It wasn't anything overly original (a tiger on my hip with its paw extending a little bit down my leg), but it was my first act of independence. Considering I was an 'A' student with a bright future, this was my bit of rebellion.

When my mom found out she stopped speaking to me for 3 months. I can't begin to tell you how damaging it is to live with someone who pretends you don't even exist. I spent many nights apologizing and trying to amend the situation. I begged, pleaded and even tried reasoning with her. Nothing worked. Finally, she dropped the ultimate bomb: either I have the tattoo removed or forgo college. I spent about a month looking into options to finance college on my own. With no one helping me, I became an easy target for military recruiters and bankers interested in preying on the naive. I'm lucky I didn't sign anything. Finally, with a heavy heart, I made the decision to remove the tattoo. Paying for most of the procedure myself.

As much as people complain about tattoo application, removal is a thousand times worse. The only pain that has surpassed that in my life has been the D&C. It was painful because I had given up control of my body to a mad woman. I still remember the doctors looking at my mother and trying to talk her out of this procedure. It was clear to them I was being forced. And yet, no one did anything. Not my teachers, not my friends and not even the members of my family. They were too afraid of her wrath.

When I told Dee this story, she sat back and said "I'm so sorry." The first time ever that anyone outside of Grey has told me that. And immediately that became our target for the session.

The truth is I'm scared that one day I'll come home and find my mother on my doorstep. I'm beyond angry about what she's done to me and yet I feel powerless regarding protecting myself from her. She's violated my body and been such a source of pain for most of my life that I never learned how to stick up for myself against her. Nothing about her actions is predictable. Everything is a possible trigger and she's used me as her personal whipping-boy for so very long. Initially I thought I had overcome this, that I was doing better. My sister's wedding invitation brought it all back though: all the fear, all the loss and all the pain.

As I cried during the session, I realized something about all of this: I've never grieved the loss of my childhood. I've never allowed myself to. For too long I've been in survival mode, just trying to make it through all the madness. When my mom told me that I deserved my infertility, I took it to heart believing that damnation with each failed treatment or loss. Every bit of it. Sure, I swung back too, accusing her of being an unfit and undeserving mother. But this dance was taught at a very young age. Instead of playing and learning about the world, I was honing my tongue and learning how to brace myself for an outburst.

We have a long way to go still. This process is complex because despite the abuse, there were good moments too. It's the good moments that make all of this difficult as without them I could easily cut my losses. But that's not how the world works. How dysfunction works. The truth is, I've long believed I don't deserve to be a mother. To feel the movements of my child growing within me, to hold them when they first enter the world, to watch them grow and to take joy in watching them become part of the world. But the truth is that I also use to believe that I was unlovable and would never find a partner in life. Grey proved that idea wrong and continues to do so every day. With Dee's help, I want to overcome this last-lingering myth about myself. I want to feel like I do deserve children, just as much as the next person. Because I have done nothing to deserve the venom that was forced onto me, the lies I was told simply to make me subordinate me.


16 comments:

  1. I am so sorry that happened to you Cristy. My childhood was stolen from me also and that is something that cuts so deep. Even after the cut is healed there is a huge scar for the rest of your life. You will be a wonderful mother, a loving, caring, compassionate, understand mother. Whether it is through adoption or your frozen babies, you will be so loved and will have so much love to give.

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  3. Cristy I feel for you. I really do. I too am like you and Toni. There are days that my childhood, for lack of a better word, comes back to haunt my present. It can affect me during the worst and best of times. It seems like anything can trigger the memories.

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  4. Hon, I am so sorry for what you had to go through and the feelings you now have about no being worthy.

    I know you have to work this out for yourself, but I believe you are worthy of being a mother. You have a big heart and are not a thing like your own mother.

    If you need to talk, please call.

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  5. You do so deserve to be a mother, Cristy. You deserve all of that and so much more. I really hope one day you can believe that, because you will be spectacular at it.
    ~Keisha~

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  6. Jesus Cristy. She said you deserved infertility?! This woman is beyond help. I am so glad you have Dee and Grey. You also have all of us. Parents really can damage a child beyond all belief. Too bad it is you who has to pay the price, instead of them. Sending you huge hugs.

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  7. Very proud of you for confronting these dark and difficult emotions that you carry around with you still. This in itself makes you an amazing mother and makes you one of the most deserving people that I know for the family that you want. I'm so sorry you went through so much. I wish you much healing and a flood of love for yourself as you embark on this journey with Dee. Here for you the whole way. *hugs*

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  8. I am so very sorry for the trauma and abuse you suffered at the hands of your mother. I know from firsthand experience that it's extremely difficult to feel self-worth as an adult when you grow up with an abusive parent. I'm glad that you're working through this with Dee and that you realize that the terrible things your mother said to you were lies.

    You are an amazing person and if anyone deserves the gift of motherhood, it's you.

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  9. I'm so sorry, Christy. My mom had a hard childhood and did her best to give us kids a much better one. I know at times she struggled to see me (and my siblings) having a better childhood than her, but I know from my mom that it is possible to change and break the cycle. You are definitely on your way to becoming a great mother!

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  10. I'm so glad you're starting to open up and really dive deep. I'm so sorry for all your mother has put you through. That tattoo story is awful. As someone who's seriously pondered tattoo removal, I can't imagine what that would have been like at 18, with my mother against me, holding my future over my head... just terrible. I hope this tough work with Dee will put you on the fast track toward healing my dear. This stuff is so hard, true work, as exhausting as any manual labor. But the end result is worth it.

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  11. This process you are going through, grappling with what happened to you as a child and as an adult, is not unlike infertility itself. It's painful, fear inducing, and there are no clear cut answers- or knowledge that all will work out in the long run. I'm sorry that you have to know this pain all over again. However, I am confident that you will be an amazing mom. And I don't say that just because it sounds good, or that it is an easy thing to say; I say it because in all this time I've been reading your blog, post after post after post, I feel like I'm able to say that the Cristy I've come to know is an introspective, compassionate, and loving woman. You are not your mother. You will not make her mistakes, and... your child will flourish because of you.

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  12. I am so very sorry...I know first hand how damaging a mother can be and its effects on your forever...its abuse 100% and you never get over the person who was supposed to love and protect you would be hurting you...its a pain that I feel I you can never get over and as I think about it now I have tears in my eyes...it cuts you so deeply that I have yet found a way to completely heal the wounds...I have moved on but I will never forget it...I really hope that the EMDR is helping you (((((((((((((HUGS))))))))))))) know that you are not alone!!!

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  13. I am so sorry hon. You do deserve to be a mother and never forget that. I didn't deal with as much as you, but I lost my childhood by having to grow up and a lot of verbal abuse from my mother. I had a similar experience with my first tattoo, but I still have it. I continually get the verbal abuse and there are long periods of time when she refuses to talk to me. I used to do the same thing. She would make me feel guilty and I would beg and plead and apologize. I have been really working on it for 4 years now and I am doing great. There are times the verbal abuse starts and I don't take it. If she isn't going to talk to me nicely then I tell her I am hanging up and I do. There have been times over the past few months where she ignores me for weeks and I don't feel guilty about it anymore. It's her problem not yours or mine. And sometimes you have to just completely separate yourself from the problem. Huge Hugz to you hon.

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  14. I'm sorry you had to go through all that pain. It sounds like Dee can help you begin to love yourself. You are worth it.

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  15. I'm so sorry for all you've been through and the feelings that trauma still trigger for you. Keep processing. Keep moving forward. You will be an amazing mother, and I hope one day soon, you'll be able to see that, too. Sending you hugs.

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  16. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. You are brave to tackle it now, to talk about it and processing it with the help you get. Many hugs your way as you keep navigating this difficult road, figuring all out.

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