Afterthoughts from Therapy: Digging Deeper
I was sitting there—staring at my therapist (alias - Jane) as she listened to me talk through some moments in my life I thought I had fully recovered from a couple years ago (read blog). With a tense body, shaken speech, and teary eyes, I felt my body beginning to dissociate itself. That was when I told Jane how my body was responding, because I knew she saw it in just how she was looking at me. There was no judgement in her eyes; instead, it was a look full of compassion. She stood up and proceeded to tell me that my amygdala was being activated to protect me. She apologized to me about her drawing skills as she drew a diagram of the human body, brain, and spine to help me visualize what was happening to my body. It was then that I finally understood the true impact of how unresolved trauma (or lack of mental health maintenance) could physically harm a person. As we progressed further, Jane reassured me that “Amy” (what we call the amygdala for short) never forgot what happened even though I may have forgotten bits and pieces. You see, Amy keeps a very detailed record of every situation that’s traumatized or brought fear so she could protect me if it occurred again. Unfortunately for me, as we talked through more of my complex trauma, the details Amy kept to herself became more clear than ever before. I was peeling back each layer of skin that had healed over my once opened wound. I couldn’t help it though—it’s like when you get a scab. You want to pick at it; dig a little deeper because you’re curious to see how the skin underneath looks like. At the time of my first couple of sessions, I had only remembered pieces of the sexual molestation forced upon me as a child. But as Jane and I began digging deeper, Amy unapologetically opened Pandora's box. This is where I stop you. DISCLAIMER: The upcoming portion of my blog possesses triggers that include mature/graphic sexual content.
To have a better comprehension of my afterthoughts, I feel I must jump into the details. I was molested by multiple family members. One in particular took me a very long time to forgive, and emotionally and mentally recover from. During this particular session with Jane, I estimated that I was around 5 or 6 years old when it happened to me. It was like any normal Saturday at my grandma’s house with my cousins. My grandma was going out to the City Market (Farmers Market); I got up and cried because I wanted to go to the City Market with her. Regardless of my efforts, I was left behind with my aunts and older cousins to babysit my younger cousins and I. While I was crying, one of my older male cousins who was about 17 or 18 years old (alias - John), told my aunt he’d take me upstairs to the room to calm me down. John carried me upstairs, pushed me into the room and onto the bed. Even at my age, I knew something was wrong. Before my innocent eyes, John was taking off his pants and undergarment, where he began to give himself a hand-job. As I was crying with my mouth wide open, he tried to place his penis in my mouth. To no avail, he covered my mouth with his large hands and with his other hand, proceeded to take off my pants, underwear, and lift my shirt up. I remember, then, that it became hard for me to breathe because his hands had covered my mouth and nose. I could tell John was nervous because he kept looking back at the door. He quickly tried to place his penis inside my vagina; (praise the Lord) to no success, he nervously began to grind in between my crotch as best as he could on a little girl who was physically fighting back, and despite the difficulty of breathing—was screaming with all her might. At one point, one of my aunts came banging on the door asking what the commotion was and why I was crying even louder now. I remember my aunt cussing for John to open the door. After quickly putting his pants on, he whispered to me, “If you tell anyone, I’m going to kill you. Put on your clothes.” John opened the door for my aunt after I got dressed. I bawled to the point where I could no longer take breaths. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I finally found the courage to say, “He took off my pants.” My aunt immediately began to cuss at John and kicked him out of the house. I was led to the kitchen where I was given ice cream—I never saw John again until I was about 12 years old.
I know...that was a lot for me to take in too when Amy decided to tell me what she was protecting me from all these years. Aside from remembering the entirety of the situation, Jane helped made me aware of a number of things during a couple sessions:
When I was going through the darkest season of my life with anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and suicidal thoughts (read blog), I thought it was because of the many transitions I was going through. Though the many transitions I was processing may have played a factor, I realized there was so much more attached to my darkest season. Jane walked me through the what’s and why’s to give me clarity of the totality of the situation. She asked me, “When was the first time you felt anxiety?” As the conversation progressed, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Looking back, during one of the first few months of marriage, I met with one of my friends to catch up and pray for one another. She asked me how marriage was and I began to confide in her the struggle Jay and I was having with intimacy. Being intimate was difficult for me because my sexual trauma was unresolved for so many years. Small glimpses of the memories would come back from time to time, but I always repressed them out of fear. As the focus of the conversation pivoted to my sexual molestation, Amy became fully activated to protect me at all costs. It was at this very moment that I felt anxiety for the first time in my life. Though the transitions occurring in my life played a factor, it was ultimately the protection Amy felt I needed at the time to keep me from being sexually molested again. Jane and I knew immediately that we had to address my sexual trauma because it was the root cause of my anxiety. In order to cope with the stimulation of my anxiety, we had to dig deeper.
Despite having remembered only pieces of the sexual molestation I went through, Amy continued to protect me over the years to ensure it would never happen to me again. Amy’s protection efforts caused me to be untrustworthy of men in and outside of my family. Situations such as my uncle taking my niece to the theatre, my young male cousin coming out from under the blanket with my younger female cousins, and even the thought of having my children sleep over anyone’s house but mine triggers Amy. I was aware and have become highly sensitive to those specific situations. For the longest time, I thought I was—for a lack of better terms—broken for always feeling this way. But Jane assured me that I wasn’t broken, rather, I was working the way God built my body. The challenge now is to reflect on when I notice Amy protecting me so I can take a step back and discern the situation. The behavior I’ve been trying to exercise when Amy tries to step up to protect me, is to assess if the situation is truly dangerous and allow my logic center (frontal lobe) to control the situation.
The sexual molestation I experienced with other family members (Alias - Toms) was not at the level of John’s attempt, but they had an equal amount of affect to my development as a child. For many years after John, I blamed myself for the molestation that occurred with the Toms. Why? It was because I felt as if I allowed it to happen. When I was being molested, I would just lay there like a dead fish. Ten million things would be running through my mind, yet I couldn’t do anything—I couldn’t fight like the little girl who tried to escape from John. I told my therapist it was my fault because I didn’t take any action against the molestation. There it was again, the look in her eyes was that of a mother who’d seen her child fall-off a swing. After using up almost a whole session to process this particular belief about myself, Jane explained to me a reality that set me free from my shame. There are three steps within the Polyvagal Theory. The first step is being socially connected to yourself and others because you feel safe; this is when an individual is in a healthy state of mind. The second step is when you are in “fight or flight” mode because of the stress occurring; this would be when an individual’s body decides if they want to fight the danger or run away from it. The third step is when you are in “freeze” mode because your body literally shuts down; this is very similar to when a possum plays dead in light of danger. I thought I had experienced dissociation only when I began to walk the darkest season of my life. But the feeling was all too familiar when I recognized that I was in dissociation during the moments of my molestation with the Toms. The only way Amy could protect me, was to make me play dead. The remembrance of “If you tell anyone, I’m going to kill you…” echoed in the back of my head. The reality of my body’s response to save me was further from the belief I had about myself. I did not allow the Toms to molest me; it was their choice and their own sinful desires that enticed them. My spirit had felt so much internal shame for so long. It was as if I was held captive underwater with an anchor, then all of a sudden I was able to break from the anchor to take a breath of fresh air. Jesus set me free from sin. But God set me free from shame through Jane’s care for my soul.
Jane encouraged me to talk to my aunts about my memories. Before the end of one of my sessions she said to me, “In the chance that your aunts do not remember, it does not mean your emotions and experience are invalid.” Hearing Jane say that to me meant the world to me. For so many years prior to having worked through the abuses by myself, I felt as if no one truly believed everything I said and felt. Before Jane, there was always a sense of slight doubt or disbelief. With Jane’s affirmation, I mustered the courage to speak to my aunts about the memories I had. Low and behold, one of my aunts remembered that day because there was so much commotion after I was brought down from the bedroom. I was able to confirm that John abused me between the time my grandpa passed away and before my grandma was remarried, 1999. This would make me 5 years old at the time I experience my first form of sexual molestation. When my memories were confirmed, I didn’t feel a sense of validation or relief to my surprise. Instead, I felt sad. Sad because I began to think of other victims in the world who didn’t have any family members stick up for them. I was blessed enough to have aunts physically fight for me so that I (and anyone else) would never have to see John again. I’ve made it a mission of mine to speak proudly of what God put me through so I could lend a hand to anyone who's gone through the same abuse, and is struggling to come to terms with it. Perhaps it is just me, but as someone who was once molested, I wanted to scream out the frustration and shame. I just wanted to be heard; I needed a safe space specifically for sexual trauma. With that said, to anyone reading this...I am here; I am open; I am ready to listen.
These are just four of the primary awareness points I had from the first few therapy sessions I had with Jane. I have no words to explain how much therapy has helped me. All I know is, before therapy I was unaware of the glass shards laying in my heart requiring removal. They were small enough to remain unseen, but sharp enough to provoke subtle lacerations that would create more damage over time. I know for Christians, therapy or counseling is outside of the norm because, “if you have Jesus that shouldn’t be an issue / he heals everything.” But one thing I’m learning is this—God desires for his children to truly bear one another’s burden. Just as Jesus counseled and intervened for others, we are to do the same and allow others to do the same for us. Just because you have a therapist, it doesn’t mean you have no faith or less faith. As Jackie Hill Perry stated, “Your therapist should point you to Jesus.” That is exactly what Jane has done as we continually look to the cross for hope and for God in all my painful experiences. Jesus does heal everything—sometimes it’s through the agents of his people. Church, there should come a time when we accept that our spiritual health is completely attached to the physiological construct of our physical body. You can read more about this from Dallas Willard.
When I lay myself to rest after a long day filled with thoughts, emotions, and the realities of life, my spirit has only God to thank and give the glory to; not Jane. Through all my painful experiences in life, it is these that have pruned me the most to bear the kind of fruit I did not believe was possible when I was still a salvation-less sinner. I look to God and say to him as King David did, “For he has delivered me from every trouble, and my eye has looked in triumph on my enemies” (Psalm 54:7).
CY