From House Wife To Film Maker

What began as a drop, picking up my phone and !BLAM!ming my parents, has spread in ever expanding ripples in wonderful ways. Ways I never would have predicted.  The freedom and healing I’m experiencing has taken me by surprise.

CONTINUED from yesterday, I said there was more that has opened for me…
The day before when I was writing about my thoughts on “The !BLAM!ming” (click here for the post) and stated that I was like a war vet suffering post war trauma, the strangest thing happened.  There were visions in my mind, like the Ghost of Christmas Past had taken me to when I was a child… I was watching scenes of myself in my parents home.  I was able to observe “this little girl”.  Bad things were happening and she was frightened.  Many scenes flashed as we moved through the years.

As I observed something came vividly clear…

I was able to see the connection between me and the war vet. People go to war healthy mentally and can come home very different.  They can’t help it.  They lived through horror.  They can’t stop the psychological traumas: The flash backs.  The fears.  Living on edge.  Waiting to protect/defend.  Watchful.  Suspicious.  And everyone including themselves know why they changed from the great person they were before they left… the effects of war.

This experience broke open an understanding why “the little girl” in the visions became the way “she” had.

How much worse for “her” then the vet?

She was 2 1/2 when her mother married “her” step-father. “She” was just a baby. Never even had a chance to develop healthy mentally. Her brain was forming. Her experiences with life were taking shape. The networking being laid was hard wired with traumas: fear, jumpy, hide, go outside…run, protect, shut down, defend, stop listening, be suspicious, be watchful, lie, keep to herself, no one loves her, no where is safe, stop feeling, don’t express “herself”, shut up, go away, do as “she’s” told, don’t question, “she’s” worthless, who would want to love “her”, look for others to hurt “her”, be: depressed, suicidal, pull away, ice over, protect, feel worthless, shut down, survive, defend, argue…

“She” suffered the effects of “war”/horror/violence inside “her” home. It’s all “she” knew. “She” couldn’t help it.  “Her” brain’s beliefs and patterns took over and “she” was stuck there.  In that past.  Hopeless… unless someone helped “her”.  Everyone, including me, should have known…

But I didn’t know.  I didn’t cut myself an inch of slack. All through my life I have been destructively self-judgmental and just plain self-destructive.  I curse myself. Put myself down. Call myself names. I’ve had no patience with myself. Couldn’t receive compliments.  No acceptance of myself unless I was perfect and my bar was so high I rarely, if ever, reached it.  And certainly never accepted my failures.

The !BLAM!ming freed up a ton of bottled up energy that I used elsewhere…

The other day was the first time I connected with the small child inside. The one that was hurt and scarred.  For the first time in my life I was able to understand “her“.  Except “her” faults.  Feel compassion. I wanted to pick her up, sway side to side, stroke her hair, and tell her, “It’s okay, I’m here now.  I’m protecting you.  I understand.  I’m going to keep you safe.  I’m taking you out of here to live with me.  You don’t have to stay.  You can leave with me.”  And walk off with her in my arms and not stop till we were in my apartment.

You know what?  That’s exactly what I’m going to do right now.  Spend time with the “little girl”.  Let her know she’s safe…

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
-Tomorrow… what the response from my parents has been so far.

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