A little over three years ago, at the age of 45, I somehow found the courage to seek help. I was a mess. I had been a mess all my life and internally this was always something I was keenly aware of, but now it was apparent to those on the outside as well. I didn't have any understanding of why, I never had any understanding of why I was a mess, it just always WAS.
To those around me I always appeared to be fairly stable, productive, independent, level headed. Inside I was in constant turmoil, weighed down by dense emotional pain, hounded by constant fear, feeling paralyzed and unable to move forward in any kind of positive way. I was existing, surviving life, but felt very very dead inside.
In the year of 2001, I was working a job I enjoyed, I owned my own home, I was in a relationship with a man I loved very much. But I was gripped with fear and I couldn't shake it. Not just fear, actually the worst kind of dread, impending doom. And in the middle of what seemed like a good year, I came unraveled. I blew my job, I walked away from my relationship unexpectedly and I had a meltdown. But being a survivor of life, I kept it all internal. I withdrew and kept it all to myself. It was what I had always done. I withdrew and kept everything to myself.
I lost my job, I lost the love of my life, and I lost my home. And then I became a child. I moved in with my parents and stayed numb for almost 5 years. Five years of my life was - poof - gone, lost with everything else. No more hiding that something was very very wrong. I had reached that bottom that everyone talks about. But fact of the matter is, I had reached that bottom many times on the inside, this was the first time, however, that what was going on internally had finally made its way out. And I knew that if I was going to be that ultimate survivor, I was going to need some help in finding out what was going on with me. I was going to need to find someone who could help me find my way back up from the bottom. I had exhausted my internal resources and I needed to find a way to trust someone. It would be the first time in my life I would try to trust someone. It was the best decision I ever made. It was the decision that saved my life.
And so, the day I walked into my therapist's office was the beginning of my life. Because what I had been experiencing up to that day was not life. It was a slow death. And I had almost given up the ghost. I was at the end. And then came my beginning.
By Carla Logan, Child Abuse Survivor - My intention for this blog is to chronicle my healing journey toward integration as a survivor of child and adult sexual, physical, psychological and religious abuse. As a survivor, an overcomer of very painful obstacles, I am determined to not allow my past to rob me of any more years of my life. My hope is that through my chronicles, someone out there may find hope and courage and healing as well.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Sometimes the End is the Beginning
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