TwitterJan 08 2010
Pandora Boxes . . .
Since I’ve !BLAM!med my parents I’ve been open to a lot of new things I didn’t see before.
My coach has been able to take me to new levels.
I’ve come to see new things.
And I’m thankful.
In order to heal something you have to actually be able to see it first. Otherwise you don’t even know the sucker exists. Consciously at least. Because it’s there… destroying your life. But you have no idea. Kinda like an ominous presence in a Stephen King novel…there’s something out there lurking in the dark, creating trouble, but you’ve no idea why. Till one day during your healing process a Boogie Man jumps out of the dark, scares you half to death, and swipes it’s claws at you. Wide eyed you stagger backwards, your heart pounding, and you keep repeating, oh my God, oh my God, that can’t be real. Will it hurt me? Should I run?…
The worse thing you can do is run. You have to hold your ground. You have to get a good look at it in the full light of day while you have your chance. It’s where you can see how to kill it.
For years I’ve kept things that happened to me sealed up
and stored deeply at the back of the forbidden dark tower of my memories
and in the recesses of my bowels.
Things that happened and how I think and feel.
This is what you do isn’t it?
Your mother teaches you it’s wrong to hang your family’s dirty laundry
out for the whole world to see.
You keep family secrets.
You don’t even speak of them to each other.
It’s a shameful thing.
It’s the ultimate betrayal to so much as utter them alone in the dark of night…
Instead you keep them hidden… in the blackness.
Where they rot and fester.
Where mice infest and they leave stinking excrement everywhere and make nests out of the “dirty things”.
You learn to live with the filth. The infection that sets in. The fog in your thinking. The demons that lurk and shriek sending your emotions out of control when you least expect and steal you of peace and happiness.
I’ve been finding powerful healing through my life couch sessions and classes. The problem has been that I’ve dug deeply into the depths of unconscious and memory all the while either partially revealing or keeping a safe distance from certain “shut away things”.
Till the !BLAM!…
That’s when I let the vomit fill my mouth and evacuate my gut.
To purge the putrid rotting, infestation.
This tore at my stomach and sent a shutter throughout my system unearthing a good many Pandora Boxes from far reaching hiding places. These boxes were left on the edge of my conscious and shook with the roar of the monsters that held them.
Their presence has been so frightening that I’ve no choice but to drive myself to find the key to open and unleash them into the world so I might see them for what they were and free myself.
This “drive” produced yet another !BLAM!ming however this time my mother didn’t hear it. It was urged on by my life coach when he heard their roar. He knew how to unleash at least some right then… I needed to say things that I hadn’t already. He encouraged me act as if she were there and this time to call her names.
I tried. But at first the words stuck firmly in my throat. I stopped and said, “This is ridiculous I can swear a blue streak when I’m mad and even if I simply choose to, but without my mom even present I can’t do it. “So I took four slow deep breaths, closed my eyes, and tried again. The words came out slowly, as if trapped by the bowel cramping the proceeds explosive diarrhea. Then they released and poured out unable to be suppressed. I called her every name in the book and let her know what I thought of her. I was surprised to hear some of what I said.
I left feeling better.
But there were more boxes lying there, thundering with the earth shattering anger of the monsters they held…
That’s where I’ll pick up tomorrow…
Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
Stored in the recesses of my bowels….yes, I get that. Weird how we learned that to hold on and put a lid on our thoughts and emotions has become such a false security. To speak our mind and feel our emotions which would bring real peace and security is scary.
Your sentence, “You have to get a good look at it in the full light of day while you have your chance. It’s where you can see how to kill it.” doesn’t feel right to me. I am finding that for me, when these boogy men are being revealed that if I get past the anger and judgment of being angry and invite the boogy man to have some tea with me, that I see the wounded part of me just crying out in sadness and grief. I think staying with our feelings is a tough job because we always feel like we need to have our feelings make sense…that’s the challenge for me, to disconnect from my brain that likes to stop from feeling and get me to figure things out.
Kate
Wow this is really good.
Thank you.