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For as many years as we have lived, there are far more stories. Some we tell. Some we don’t. Those we don’t, especially the ones that occur in a painful childhood, stay with us, settling in our cells. If we grew up hearing the covert/overt threat of don’t tell anyone, you will destroy the family and then we are carrying not only our pain, but the pain of everyone else involved.

Three months ago, I started another program. I am telling those painful, secret stories that have kept me stuck in my old decisions and vows; those decisions that keep me stuck. Sure, I make progress forward. However, it is me slogging forward while carrying trainloads of stories, pain, shame, guilt, embarrassment, blame, resentments, fear, unlovable and unworthy. I feel like a fraud when someone meets me because of those emotions and beliefs.

Research shows that being overweight and obese are connected to child sexual abuse (NOTE: this does not mean this is reflective of all people). As I processed one of my stories, I decided that would not be in a vulnerable position again, thus for me, weight gain. That was a result of an event occurring at age 14.

As I slowly gained more weight, especially during my middle age time, it became protection from being vulnerable and a way to keep people away from me. Twenty years ago, I decided to change my eating more and add walking and exercise. I let go of 40 pounds then something happened where I felt vulnerable and the weight went back on. Last year, I was doing well with exercise and eating. Then at work, my vulnerability was triggered and boom! Back it came. Finding comfort food. Shutting down. All ancient coping mechanisms. When some people believe that shaming is a way to get us to change our behaviors, it triggers vulnerability and can actually backfire. Most of us already have had shame piled on us and it is counterproductive and steals our joy.

The decisions and vows we make are attributed to experiencing events that create our stories. At three years old, while sharing that story, I figured out the decisions I made were to become invisible, modulate my crying and not ask for anything. As I delve further into the memories, I will be able to connect event to other decisions/vows I made and/or reinforced them.

For the many years I have held those stories in my mind and heart, also they were held in my cells and even my DNA structure. Do you remember the adage that we are as sick as our secrets? I believe there is truth in that. When we stuff down our emotional stories, it can show itself through physical responses. In further research, I am reading about chronic pain, Type II Diabetes, chemical dependency, some cancers, reproductive and gastrointestinal issues can be connected to child sexual abuse. [NOTE: again, not necessarily attributed for all people.]

As I continue divulging these stories, I am beginning to feel my stuffed emotions, to release them, name them, crying and grieving. This is one of the most difficult passages I am crossing. I have spent most of my life dissociating as my go-to coping strategy. What worked then to keep me alive really does not serve me now. It keeps me reliving history instead of fully stepping into the present and future.

The counselor is skilled in listening to stories, some of the brutal and destructive pain that happened to people she sees. One of the concerns I had was whether or not she would be showing “tells.” Tells are facial expressions which can be construed as judgments. The flinches, the look of disgust, uncomfortable looks. She did have a “tell” one time as I was relating a story, going into detail, when she clutched her chest. We have an agreement when I see that happen to ask her about it, to check the facts. She said it was how her heart hurt for me. It was the opportunity for me to go forward as I learned it was not a judgment or shame about me and my story. Finally, permission to release what I had been burdened to carry. Was what happened really that awful or did I minimize it so it wasn’t so overwhelming? Can I cry and grieve the losses without feeling shamed that I wasn’t tough enough to take it? Was I too weak?

As the stories are taped, I am asked to listen to what I related three of four times in the week and keep a records of my feelings score each time with the goal to bring down the emotion numbers. Once, I asked my husband if he would listen to one of the stories. I shared ten minutes of one. I could see he was visibly moved. I understand it can be difficult for someone who loves you to listen. It was a way to share an intimate deep part of myself. I think sharing it with him helped him to be a more supportive person while I am going through this. When I am grieving, he will ask what he can do. I appreciate this lot. He has seen me be tough and even stoic.
This showed my vulnerable side which is big step for me.

Years ago, some “professionals” suggested these were considered “false memories.” Was that something created to discredit our memories of what happened to us to let whoever was sexually abusing us off the hook? Blame the survivor? Confuse us? Who knows? Sometimes it can difficult to hear about someone who is abusive yet that is not another person’s experience with that person. I say it depends on what side of the front door they are on. They may not have the context and it is usually highly unlikely the abuse occurred out in the open with an audience. Our memories and stories are relevant as they can shape our beliefs about ourselves and the world around us.

When someone says it doesn’t have to make sense what happened, I am not one of those people who can let it go. (Some things I can.) However, when it comes to what happened to me, the roles others played and how it was interplayed out, it assists my healing process. When I learn what the lessons are, then the challenges weren’t for not. My experiences and what I learned can be helpful for me to have greater understanding and leading to compassion. Their pain was transferred to me.

When I would talk about some stories, I heard that it just keeps me living in the past, I should forget them and live in the present. Even being offered medications so I can “numb” myself. When it comes to being sexually abused and the craziness, stuffing them is not always the best answer. Stuffing them can contribute to being ill. (It is important to work with someone who has skills in this area.) I am grateful for finding a place where I can finally say it out loud without repercussions from the family.

As I am processing each painful story, I can now see where I got that decision and historical coping skill from then learn a new option. I can also offer a bit of grace and eventually compassion to my parents even though it can be slow to emerge. Most importantly, I will be centering that grace and compassion for myself. Finding the facts and separating what was my part and what were the other participants helps me gain perspective. Instead of owning all the blame, I can reassess so I can finally be free and find that elusive joy.

Years ago, my friend’s mom decided to move out of her house after over 50 years of living there. She was done living there and left all the stuff behind. In order to get the house ready to sell, my friend asked me to come over to clean out the attic. It was full. I wondered when we got the stuff out of the house, it just groaned from the relief of that extra weight.

It was difficult at times for her as it just wasn’t stuff, it was memories mixed in. While it might have been easier for me to just chuck the stuff, I wanted to honor her process. She was very grateful for this. We created four piles: keep, donate, toss and maybe box. We got it done.

A few years ago, my mother-in-law couldn’t live in her house anymore as she moved to assisted living. We took her through her house one last time, letting her choose items to bring for her new room. Since it was limited what would fit in her room, she became mindful in what was the most important for her. For many weekends, my husband and I would drive three hours to begin the process. He ordered the dumpster then started tossing. He didn’t have the emotional connections to mom’s stuff so it was easier to let it go. I had a few moments of feeling mom’s 50 years of memories as it was relinquished to the dumpster. Mom’s niece wanted some of her memories and things and I became the diverter so she got those memories. She lives on the east coast. Gratefully, a couple of friends came over to help and of course, we let them choose some items. Eventually we finished and her home was sold.

Last year, impacted by the accumulation of stuff at my house, especially the paper monster, I went through closets, drawers, boxes, files and more to clear out my stuff. It can be easy to shred old papers. When I got to the desk drawer where I had my wedding pictures, I hesitated. It was a rite of passage. Even though I had been divorced for many years, looking back at those pictures and reminiscing, there was a flood of emotions, sad, pain, happier at times. I talked with my son about the pictures, asking if there were any he wanted. We agreed all but a few would go so into the trash can they went. My shredder got quite the workout!

My cousin called the other night. She shared about her side of the family and the family sexual abuse that occurred. It was painful to hear. Now as adults, when there is some distance and some of the people are dead, the stories are being pulled from the attic into present time. The stories I hear do not surprise me; it does weigh heavy on my heart. It takes courage to be able to put words to the horrors of growing up in families like this. Even though those stories are near the surface, many do not have the sense of safety and not being judged to share. They still carry that burden, stuffed boxes in the attic.

What prompted this train of thought was my own attic in my head. It is filled with memories. I remember my trips as an adult, my son growing up, special friend moments and more. It is also stuffed with memories of growing up and the traumas. Trauma can overshadow the positive stuff. Some of the events really stand out and take up a lot of room. So many secrets I have stored in my limbic system that stay there, going round and round. Popping up then sliding back into that drawer until the next time. There is stuff I want to throw out or keep. Some I want to give back as it really isn’t mine. I believed if it was given to me, I must take even if it wasn’t good for me, true or my responsibility. How often has someone said something demeaning about us and we believed it? Or did some things to us and turned it around as if we were responsible. Likely we were quite young and didn’t know it was optional to say no room in my head storage facility for that junk. We carry it along as we become the keeper of the memories. They take up space without paying rent.

Some of those secrets can keep us tightly hostage. Even when it was done to us, we somehow end up owning it and then how embarrassing it is that we “allowed” someone to do that to us. I have kept those in my head and in every cell, not shared with anyone. It is taking up so my space in my attic that its clutter interferes with living. In a way, it is slowly killing me and keeps the brakes on me living life more fully with peace and contentment.

There is something to confession is good for the soul. So I have begun this new program so I can address not only those deeply hidden shameful secrets and truly begin to grieve deeply. It’s not only about my many losses in childhood, but how this has created loss in my adult life. The fear of judgment about what happened can keep me well-guarded and closed down, those secrets holding so fast and glued that I feel like I cannot even move forward. Those words are strung together, one hurtful phrase after another, hooked like a heavy chain we drag around. Giving your voice to these histories can free you up while letting go of blame, embarrassment, guilt and shame (BEGS).

A reason to release them is so the distortions about us dissolve and our true self can shine through. Those lies and misplaced damaging beliefs keep us from seeing who we are. Even when someone who loves us and lets us know our beauty, we can see it as a lie that reinforced us as be so less than.

Holding onto these secrets has also affected my physical body. Chronic pain, weight issues, digestion, allodynia, insomnia, among others. The body remembers and presents this pain in a physical way. I think it is to get our attention to address the hidden secrets. It can be a challenge for our bodies to hold onto this stuff and like shaking a bottle of fizzy water, eventually it will blow all over.

Let’s take the time to find that brave little child to take the step forward to reclaim our lives. Those hurting people who put their painful distortions onto us, those can be released into the universe and we can replace them with the loving sunshine of the truth and we can finally shine and be free.

 

 

 

Have you thought about how the ways your life might be held hostage? It can be easy to slide from one day to the next without paying much attention to what is going on and why we choose the options. It can be an easy decision to make about our morning beverage. Coffee? Tea? Soda? Smoothie? What about other choices? Now, as I am paying closer attention to why I do certain things, I am seeing how there are hiccups in my actions and inactions and what triggers those responses.

Growing up, nearly all of my “choices” were dictated by fear of my parents and fear of my classmates. I learned the “go along to get along” dance as a form of minimizing the blame, embarrassment, guilt and shame (BEGS), and also the physical, emotional and mental abuse. No matter how much I strengthened the walls around me, those zings get to me. No matter how hard I tried to please people and to be acceptable, there were those who took upon themselves to point out what is wrong with me. I felt like they were trying to be superior to me. As long as they pointed out my flaws, it could be they felt much better about themselves at the expense of others.

Being raised under a house of fear, shame and demoralizing taunts, it created a foundation of believing I was not good enough for anyone and anything. This also added a strong belief that I was unworthy to breathe the air. As I grew up, I became an attractant for more of the same. When we are caught in the swirl of this haze, it can be rote to continue the “go along to get along” way of living. We can believe it is a way to a peaceful survival. When we do this, it does come at such a price. Maybe we lost ourselves, maybe we didn’t know ourselves.

So the hostage part comes when we are doing things based on what another person wants without taking into consideration of what is important to what we want and need. We “go along to get along,” deferring to them. It could be because we want to be accepted, loved, needed, wanted, not rock the boat, deflect confrontation or argument, being afraid when we ask for what we need, we will get shot down. “Go along to get along.” Eventually, I would try to deflect retributions and be hyper-vigilant to guess a step ahead of them, try to appease them and then I just give up altogether.

In the past when I asked, it wouldn’t be convenient for them or they would insert what they wanted as a substitute for my desire. It was then I saw parts of my life were being held hostage. Being held hostage is being deprived of your own decisions. It is robbing yourself of the freedom to make your own wisest choices based on what is going on with you at the present time. The main component of being confined as a hostage is conditioned fear.

I can make better headway at home and with my friends in reclaiming me. It has taken time, trial and error, to figure out what my own preferences are then find the best words to convey that. At work, it is a different story. The fear of losing my job and much needed income keeps me in a tight place. My resentment of trying to make space for me is trying. So I am thinking I need to look at reframing my “hostage” view. What if I decided that I am here to supplement our income for the higher good of my family? Instead of feeling like a hostage, I decide this is what I can do. In the book by John Bradshaw, Healing the Shame that Binds You,” what stood out for me is that as a human, we have limitations. Trying to continually overcompensate for other’s views of our shortcomings, we can do what we can do. Each day, the amount we produce is different.

Getting caught up in family expectations can be another aspect of being held hostage. With that, I have learned to put myself first and choose not to live up to or live down to their expectations. It is very freeing.

It is quite the road to sort this out and figure out how to reclaim your own life and free yourself for authentic living. No ransom needed to leave this roller coaster revolving door. Just courage and loving support from those who can love you through it. Make the next discovery of finding you.

For 2018, I declared it is my year (plus) for healing. It has been a struggle to get the time and energy for me to pursue the deep healing I felt I needed and wanted. Plus, I believed it was selfish of me to pursue this avenue. Moving out of a very dark and painful place toward seeing a light has been challenging. I wasn’t sure I would make it. I had glimmers of hope often dashed by fists of deep pain, pushed back into the darkness. Pain I have had since the beginning of my time on earth.

I would go to work for a few hours then come home to sit. The to-do list, cut into teeny projects, made it easier for me to get through one item, like sweep the kitchen floor. I would put on a brave, “it’s okay” face, not sharing how cutting the despair was inside me. I made a plan; not confirmed date.

My girlfriends were very kind and supportive. One said to call anytime, even 3 a.m., offering to sit with me until it passed. She understood more than anyone how deep the struggle it was to go on. The pain, hurt, despair, futility of breathing into the next minute, hour, day to find the will to wake up and try again.

Sometimes, we think we can depend on one person to help us. I decided to work with a team of people to help me address the many, many layers of pain and how it showed up in my life. Each perspective added an opportunity to see the blind spots which helped me to address areas I had not thought through. The difference is looking in the bathroom mirror just at me or seeing in a house of mirrors to observe even the tiniest of options and to view things from another perspective, sometimes something I would not have connected or even wanted to see exposed.

My girlfriends and husband continued to encourage me to find those glimmers to keep going, no matter how heavy the burden. Most importantly, they listened and offered unconditional love. I did not want to burden and stress out my family with this. I tried to just go it alone so I wouldn’t bother anyone. Since it has been a lifelong issue, I believed that they were tired of this.

Life still is not a joyful rise and embrace of the day. The edge is off sometimes; other times I work to put one foot in front of the other. I find distractions like reading, cleaning, doing the best I can each day to do something that propels my life forward. Even if it is just making the bed, doing the dishes, making a cup of tea or soup, meeting a friend for breakfast or lunch therapy/support meeting.

This time of the year one can feel dark inside even with the festivities. Joyful times and expectations from others on how we ought to be feeling light-hearted can add much stress and add to the burden we carry. Oftentimes, they do not understand. Cheerful holiday music is playing and what we hear is the Grinch theme.

At this time of year where the sun goes to bed early and sleeps in later, make a list of things you CAN do. One step at a time to keep moving forward. It doesn’t have to be forever; it may be just right now. Find several people to be on your healing team to reach out to and to help lift this burden. Ask them to call you if they do not hear from you to assist with accountability. It is not about perfection; it is getting through.

It still is a challenge to me. Yet, I put one toe in front of the other, working to find the lovely spot in the glen that continues to offer a finger of hope to keep going. I am grateful for the team who has not given up on me, especially my husband who has and continues to love me through this.

What a concept. As I am experiencing somatic memories (body/cellular memories, not necessarily what my mind memory banks recall) about key pieces of my childhood, I can feel the pain, confusion and powerlessness. Even though events that happen may not make sense, for me they eventually do. I have a curiosity of the whys. There are clues and thin trails. Talking with my great aunts before they past has helped with the puzzle.

With assistance with my friends helping me to piece together some things, I wondered what I did to deserve, or rather be the brunt of, my mother’s tirades at three-years-old until she died.

One friend suggested since having three children in three years, she may have had post partum depression. There were a lot of previous traumas that added up. Imagine having your third child and your husband is gone just like that. I can see how the abuse transpired. I can have compassion, yet what happened still is painful.

Throughout my growing up years with my mother, I heard daily how unwanted, worthless and disgusting I was. No matter what I did to show I was worthy, I was smacked down.

After taking a wider view, I saw my mother as a young girl who went through her own trials. Could it be that she felt powerless and wouldn’t push back so it became “He did this to me so you have to pay?”

There is an old idiom: Dad had a rough day. He comes home, takes it out on mom. Mom takes it out on the kid. The kid takes it out on the dog. The dog bites the mailman.  Maybe dad had a difficult boss meeting or traffic was maddening. Lack of control with those who are powerful and one cannot push back, mostly out of fear. Fear of losing your job. Fear of being overpowered and reinjured by the person who hurt you or abused you. Conditioned to be subservient. The reasons can vary.

I see now how with the injuries and traumas my mother endured then transferred that anger and resentment to me as I was a painful reminder. By hurting me, it temporarily gave her relief from her own pain until the next trigger or flare-up. Being blinded and consumed by the rage fueled the continued abuse.  It took awhile for me to see that blind rage is just that.

We can also experience that concept in our lives today. At work, in relationships with partners, family, friends, co-workers and bosses, clogged up traffic. We can see it played out on the television news. That pain that grips our lives can contribute to depression, rage, our own sense of being powerless, suicidal options and endless tears on the inside and outside and futility to continue living.

Several of my friends have talked about that. How conflicted we are/were about that person who hurt us so you have to pay in their own lives. The deep-seated pain we carry that challenges our worthiness to be loved and cherished; whether we can step in our place in this world and become part of that fabric of life that makes a positive difference. We wonder how at such a tender age we could drastically alter and figure so much in our caregiver’s life of misery like it’s our entire fault. Haterade? Not just this; it is the recovery process of our own that we are continually working to cross that rickety bridge to accepting love for who we are becoming with people who genuinely do love us, unconditionally. Finding safety and vulnerability in someone who takes that chance and finding us along the way. Bless them for seeing beyond our fragility and fear.

Have you seen this in your own life? When it happens to me still, I sense the feelings of powerlessness and can get stymied, stuck in ancient history. I also feel the inner resentment rising, if I am so broken, why keep trying. Why oh why would I pay or be the recipient of someone else’s ancient history when I had nothing to do with it? How can I show compassion for their pain while healing my own? How about me showing compassion for me? They are in their own blind swirling pain which has not found an exit toward healing. Just more daggers.

Some options. Remove yourself from the situation. Try tapping (search Emotional Freedom Technique [EFT]). Meditate to find your strength and inner peace. It’s okay to take a sabbatical from certain people. Be a part of a loving support community to find a place where you can be accepted; give them a chance to change your mind. Viva breakfast therapy!!

Lately, I have been listening to This is me from The Greatest Showman.  A lot. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CjxugyZCfuw

Please share your other healing techniques.

 

 

When I think about some of the things I am afraid of, I think thunderstorms and lima beans.  Well, maybe not lima beans, it is more about eating them or being made to eat them. I have posed this question to some of my friends; they ponder.

This question stood out as I was reading a book. It pointed out that the deepest fear(s) can keep us from moving forward, to having what we want and need, to be successful. Often, those fears are covered up by layers of other issues, anger, sadness, disappointment, resentments, over compensation, ignoring, pushing aside, self-medication, toxic relationships. Maybe when we become so distracted, we run as fast as we can from something chasing us, whatever is that fear. Sadly, no matter how we avoid it, we are still dragging it right along with us. It creeps up, tries to get our attention. Tap tap.

To uncover it, it is an exercise in layers, peeling it back one layer at a time. Finding the threads (ropes, chains) to follow it back to the source. As I began addressing it, I realized that it helped me to begin the process by sitting across the table from a trusted friend that can help me see the other facets I am not seeing.  I discovered that I have fear about the underlying fear. Stubbornness is another word for fear. That can be paralyzing.

Each of these fears, the little ones to THE BIG ONE, is like little anchors that catch and hold us back. It can hold us prisoner in our minds, bodies, potential and opportunities. All have their origins. Some we can remember, a lot we do not. Still, there they are coded right into our DNA. Even when the mind does not recall, the body remembers.

One of the fears I unearthed was about expectations from others and how they would not take “no” for an answer. It has roots in my past about being able to say “no” and me being respected when their needs over rode what I wanted and needed. It is a struggle with those who use their “yes” and “I want” as a weapon against my no. We kept digging deeper, one onion layer at a time.

Another one of the root fears is not being loved for who I am. If/when I show people who I am, even in healing process, that fragile, vulnerable hurting child subjected to abuse and withheld love, who would someone ever love me. Is the fear one of being hurt while being open to love? To trust that when I open my heart, someone won’t be swinging a sledge hammer?

Travelling to address that fear can be a very dark place. Using a flashlight to look it right in the eye can be frightening. Like a monster staring back at us, creating more fear as that fear tries to create safety for that vulnerable terrified little child. Does it grow bigger and stronger over time like our fears continue to feed it?

I am scared and at times, very terrified of thunderstorms. I surmised I was not comforted as a child. When my son was little and was afraid of thunderstorms, he would come into my bed for comfort which I gave. Now when the loud storms arise, my husband will reach out to comfort me. It can calm my inner child.

I am working to get closer to that big fear, something I decided years ago based on the abuse and situations as a very young child; the origin. Some things I am considering is what if I find out my parents were right and I am a broken and disgusting, worthless person. Then what? What if there is a bigger truth and I am afraid to face it. What if I found out I am truly a perfect soul and spirit, then what do I do next with that freedom. I have felt held as a hostage all my life. What would it feel like to truly walk out into the sunshine a free person? Exploration and releasing continues.

When you begin to look at your own deep fears, forgiving yourself, releasing, making room for the new, how will you do that? How will you feel? What will you do next? And who will be able and willing to walk through it with you?

For years, I believed if someone knew who I was on the inside, they would run away screaming; that deep shame and flaws. Maybe it was about the disappointment of what I showed on the outside would be seen as a fraud on the inside. The damage has been quite deep and I see me as fragile even though I show a tougher exterior.

A week ago, my friend and I joined our church’s annual conference for a mission trip. My first one. When asked what we preferred to do, we both chose working with plants (choice is age-related). Much to our surprise, pretty much what people signed up for wasn’t on the project sheet. I ended up choosing replacing a 3-sided fence with four teens for my team. What the others did not know was I have construction experience. THe picture to the left was after we removed the original fence.

As a kid, our family built a new house and I learned about doing cement up to shingling and all the stuff in between. I had some confidence in working with this fence project. With figuring out how to address the obstacles (rock and rebar), assessments and an avid group, we were able to finish it. I also asked for more assistance from another church group and it ended up being fun. However, I learned the mountain is not level and the rock did not move much. So we worked with it. Below right is the almost finished project.

There are a couple of reasons I hide my accumulated talents. One, there can be over expectations of my abilities. Second, the expectation if I know how to do something, it must mean I really find my passion in it and want to keep doing it. Knowing/learning how to do something does not equal enjoyable and we want to continue to do it. Oftentimes, those skills are handy to have.

People were surprised how well the fence turned out. And Sunday at church, I was asked to go on the next one. Sigh…

Anyway, also on Sunday during the sermon, a person was sharing their camping experience and talked about a similar perspective. This person talked about this area in life and how the camp counselor offered another point of view. What if what we were hiding was really about allowing others to see our gifts?

Growing up, I was “trained” not to show off or take credit for what I accomplished and can do. There was the fear of reprisal. So I learned to continue to fly way under the radar, dismissing and hiding what I know and what I learned. I kept my light hidden under a basket; actually more like in a dark cave.

What I needed to come to terms with is by NOT letting my light shine let’s others continue to control me by not living a more authentic life. Not in a braggy way; in a genuine way. Hiding can keep away other thing, people, freedom and abundance that can enhance my life and living.

My fear was being shamed again for being being smart, having talents and abilities as history has repeated for years. Those people who were quick to point out about those as short-comings are now out of my life. The supportive and loving people around me now help raise me up and affirm my existence and celebrate my accomplishments. If you are struggling with this, I hope you find people who can celebrate you and let your light shine. We all have talents and abilities. Yeah!!

The second part: when someone asks me to do something that even if I know how to do it, I can say yes or no thank you. It is still my choice. It will take some getting used to letting my light shine a bit brighter. Imagine how much more confident and open to receiving gifts we will have in our lives.

Even I was impressed about how well this fence turned out. Special thanks for working together to make it happen.

Have you offered to hold boxes of another person’s things for them, being a blessing to help them out? I thought it would be a blessing to help someone out by doing that, or loaning them my car or money. Initially, it seemed like a positive thing. As time went on, those boxes took up space; I wanted my car back because I needed to pick my son up at daycare on time: I needed that money returned so I can pay my electric bill. A blessing that became a burden. This can happen even if helping a friend/relative out with a ride, a place to stay, or other assistance. Of course, there are occasions when it works; when it looks to become continual, testing your own good will, it can feel like a burden. Everyone has their limitations.

Growing up in a sexually, physically and emotionally abusive family, we end up carrying those secrets of what is going on; we aren’t allowed to tell—or else. How it got turned around, from their choices to our responsibility. Crazy how as a little child, we can end up with the adult’s (or older person’s) choices as our responsibility. We end up carrying this burden, often for years and years. In our child minds, we have no earthly clue what it is all about and what to do with it.  So we store it inside of us. With each event and assault, we store more.

We have our own history. When we are “gifted” with someone else’s history, who we truly are is tainted and mixed up with the abusers’ actions and history. When we are born, we are loveable, important and worthwhile with potential. That gets lost in the confusion of where we start and the other people’s background merges with ours.  We begin to live in confusion as we grow, affecting all parts of our lives.  As we grow, the burden becomes greater.

We find ways to cope, often using dissociation. We tend to not pay attention to that burden. We are in survivor mode, plowing into studying and/or extracurricular activities, working, slip into drug/alcohol use/abuse, finding other relationships that help us escape or other distractions. Those burdens find that open door and we can become that storage facility. We use our best coping skills to the best of our ability. There is the struggle, some days more than others. We have difficulty moving forward some days.

As I grew out of childhood, I had two sides of me. The fearful one who tried to please people so I would be liked and accepted (feel okay) with others. Then I would push back against the control. Either way, I did not like myself. Other people tried to be with me and it was difficult. Struggled in relationships of all kinds.

When we take a look inward, we can see how we have taken in events, emotions and traumas that were not ours. By carrying those burdens, it looks like the hurter is off the hook when they laid their painful choices on the welcome mat of our life. They paint our lives with their beliefs about themselves, transferring them to us like we are the problem. It skews the very core of who we truly are. It impacts our self-esteem, our own belief system, our values and our ability to find our way to a path of freedom, joy and purpose.

I have struggled to find my way to joy. That old parental foundation has deep roots. When someone tells me how much they care about me, it doesn’t register very well. Heart protection? Not risking vulnerability? The other voice overpowering and reinforcing that I am unlovable, unwanted, useless and worthless. It was my story and it became the intricate fabric of who I am/was. It was who I showed to the world, dark side and all the horrible parts of me in my defensiveness. It was how I was programmed.

Through the winding road years, I have awakened my spirituality as a pathway to wholeness. With introspection, I can see how the pieces of my life have lead to eye-opening and freeing information and perspective.

We can let go of the baggage of what never belonged to us. There are two parts. 1.) We can move away emotionally and physically from people who negatively impact us; take a sabbatical, move to another place, get a fresh start (while still healing).

2.) Hand over the baggage we have been carrying to the universe, bury it into the ground and figuratively burn it. Do a good housecleaning. Image an empty box and fill it up with those beliefs and events that are not yours. When full, lift it up and hand it over to a pair of hands to release and relieve you of that burden. Box sizes change depending on who it is you are releasing.

3.) This also allows us to change our story. Having our story be based on our past keeps us living in the past. The future is challenging when we are hauling along all those boxes belonging to someone else. Imagine moving to another place and having to transport someone else’s stuff to your new place. Wouldn’t do it? Then it is time to clear your space.

When I work one-on-one with people to identify and release those burdens, they share how much freer they are.

The real work begins to define and embrace who you really are, a being in transition, step by step.

While cleaning out file drawers, I came across this important concept and I want to share it with you as food for thought.

When we can become more conscious of when we are complaining, we can change the way we look at things, even when we can just let go.

I do not know where I got this. My apologies for not remembering or writing down the name of the author.

We hear complaints every day. In Minnesota, it is now the weather and traffic. In looking up ‘complain’ in the dictionary, it is to express dissatisfaction or annoyance about a state of affairs or an event; state that one is suffering from a pain or other symptom  of illness, state a grievance; to express dissatisfaction, pain, uneasiness, censure, resentment, grief or to find fault.

“The fourth lesson to stop unconscious manifestation. Unconscious manifestation thrives on complaining. We keep our childhood programming in place by complaining to willing listeners that we’ve been victimized. When people challenge us to take charge of our lives, we often get defensive and argue that our limiting beliefs are valid and necessary. If you want to stop your conscious patterns cold, stop complaining. Put yourself on a radical complaint-fast for one day: Don’t let a single complaint out of your mouth. Then go a second day then a third.

“Many years ago, I went on a complaining-fast and my old patterns started to stop effortlessly. I soon found I could go days and weeks without complaining about anything. Eventually my complaint-fast stretched into years and by then the miracles were unfolding so rapidly I could scarcely believe it. The circumstances of my life improved so radically that there was nothing to complain about.

“Your first task: Discover the people you complain to, the listeners of your complaining. When I started these discoveries thirty years ago, I found to  my horror that I complained about lots of things, and my ‘friends’ were exclusively people who would willingly listen to my complaints over and over. I put ‘friends’ in quotes, because I now realize that they weren’t friends at all – they were my co-conspirators in the slow sabotage of my life. We were all sinking together, barely noticing our descent because we were having such glee complaining all the way. Will you commit to a life completely free of complaints? If so, speak the following sentence aloud, from the bottom of your heart:

“I, ___________________________, commit to a complaint-free life.

“As you flow through your week, float this affirmation through your mind and body: Blessings flow in the areas of my life I used to complain about.”

Complaining is talking about something, over and over and not figuring out a resolution or letting it go if there isn’t a way at this time to find another option. My friends and I talk about frustrations that affect our lives. Then we offer loving affirmations that we are on the best path; we bless the situation then let it go; we ask for clarity for the next steps and directions to take. We also look at the inconvenience as an opportunity for what is unfolding. When things do not work out the way WE planned, it is likely the universe has the bigger picture and idea. Let those things we cannot control go, take action on the one’s we can then ask the universe what surprises are in store for us today (thanks, Flip, for that nugget). Let’s get out of our own way so these blessed and wonderful gifts can come our way. Let me know how you are doing and how we can support each other in this transition.

This topic came up again about how challenging it is to forgive. Oh, some things and hurts are kind of easy to let go. A missed dinner, an appointment, a slight or dig. I have been considering another angle to the forgiveness conundrum: the role of negative emotions. I’d like to call them the painful emotions.

The painful emotions are fear, anxiety, dread, rejection, anger, rage, sorrow, grief, frustration, disgust, disappointment, resentment, indifference, aversion, discontentment, cruelty, hate, envy, jealousy, hurt, embarrassment, shame, guilt, powerlessness, helplessness, doubt, and more. I also wonder if those settled in emotions are showing in how much we weigh. Is our overweightness indicative of how many of those heavy emotions are attached and connected to us? How do they settle into our organs, immune system, brain and energetic fields? The heaviness can keep us from more freely moving forward in life, embracing joy and peace.

Happy-type emotions are happiness, delight, joy, excitement, pleasure, affection, empathy, love, courage, hope, satisfaction, contentment, relief, serenity, peace, tranquility and others

When I am saying the painful emotions, I can feel how heavy they weigh, how oppressive they feel. Saying the happy emotions feel like clouds and feathers, soft and gentle, uplifting, lighter. How light and airy they can feel, leading us to experience bliss.

As I was thinking about this concept about painful emotions and forgiveness, I can see the difficulties in forgiving. With the heavy emotions settling in our cells like silt at the bottom of a lake, the heaviness can hold down to the painful experiences making it more difficult to just let go of hurting history. While we experience the happy emotions, they can be fleeting as they float off.

It grates against me when I hear I should just forgive them. How can that be so easy when the painful emotions have stacked up so high and taken up so much space in my body? The hurts, betrayals, fear, resentment, violations, distrust? It would be nice if there was a special vacuum cleaner that can suck out those emotions so those lighter emotions can settle in and change our cellular memories. Lighten our moods and outlooks leading to freedom from being bogged down and slugging through life.

Throughout my healing journey, I have been blessed to meet people and connecting with healing opportunities. I met Natalya through another friend. She has done some amazing work with me by releasing and even erasing those negative (painful) emotions. Each time, I am feeling lighter and lighter. It is a process to shift and change while integrating the new. It is like an internal spring housecleaning.

We all have our journeys to get toward freedom by letting go. We also have that option to hang onto the painful emotions, too. What to keep, what to let go of. Having help to do the sorting and releasing is always an option.

I will let you know how this process is going, erasing, cleaning out and releasing the painful emotions so I can make room for the lighter emotions and feel the bliss that life can offer. Let me know how it is going for you, too.