The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes
but in having new eyes.
--Marcel Proust
--Marcel Proust
Life is not easy. It would appear to that perhaps the easiest and most sheltered part of our journey, is the first 9 months spent in our mother's womb. From the moment we exit the chute, it is suffering from the onset. And then depending on our upbringing we can either be taught the tools to manage life or be subjugated to abuse, neglect and a life based on fear, rather than freedom. And since I can't speak about the experience of growing up in a loving nurturing home, I shall share on what I do know.
I spent the first 38 years of my life in a blackout. Occasionally it feels like I can grab a piece of a memory from when I was a small child or a wounded teenager and then later a rebellious adult. What I do remember is the pain, both internally and externally. No child should ever be hurt that way. But the scars run deeper as we move further away from those long forgotten years. And they went deep. Deep under years of drinking, drugging and abusing others in a series of relationships that were both toxic and dis-respective to me and to others. And under all that sadistic and often brutal self hate and self abuse, under all that fear, laid at the core of my very being was fear. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of ____________, fill in the blank. Most people that may read this, will more than likely know what I am talking about here. And the only way for me to drown out those insistent voices was with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. Often I will say in 12 step meetings, that my drug of choice, was more. And towards the end, more, simply was not enough. Then a little under 12 years ago, I stood on the precipice of this insidious thinking and living, which was going to kill me. Or I could get clean and sober. I look back sometimes and think, and as grateful as I am for this incredible life of sobriety I have, death might have been a welcomed choice. After all take away the anesthesia and what do you have left? Except, the further you get away from the pain, the deeper you feel it. It's like when you lose someone, you loved in your life, and you grieve them, but each time you lose someone else, it brings up, deeper levels of grief. And that's how it is with childhood abuse. You in fact are grieving someone you lost. Someone very close to you...YOU!!!
And buried behind all that grief, are the symptoms of that grief. The anger, fear, sadness, guilt, SHAME...all of these influence and corrupt, my everyday thinking as an immature adult. While the initial damage is NOT my fault, the journey I walk today is my responsibility. So how do I cope with the grief of a lost and very fucked up childhood? Well for the first couple of years in my recovery I did start seeing a counselor, but often the pain was so deep and I wasn't capable of seeing the connections of abuse and how I behaved as an adult- that often I would just pick relationships that mirrored what I was familiar with. The same dynamics I grew up with. And it wasn't necessarily the women I pick who were at fault, we are just attracted to what we are most familiar with. And yet, we do nothing until our backs are up against the wall and the pain is greater than the payoff. And that time came around, my 10th year of recovery. Up to that time, I used work, sex, gambling, relationships and food, to not feel my feelings. And once again it almost took my life, except this time, I knew that death was not the answer. So it finally became painfully clear that there was but 2 choices; to go on the way I was living, or to embrace my fear and grief and walk through it finally.
Walking through grief sounds easy. Easier said most of the time than done. But having said that, it does get easier. And I have done that, by nurturing my spiritual growth by taking my meditation deeper, my prayer deeper, and a honest, rigorous self examination daily. Because see for me, those self hating voices that took me years to develop and perfect, simply do not go away over night. But what I have noticed is that they have lessened over these last couple of years and when they do pop up, I can access the situation with a kind, loving, compassionate heart and look to self forgiveness and vulnerability to be my guiding companions. I often find when I am hardest on myself, is when those voices that are the loudest, who are screaming I Am Not Good Enough, are the voices of the judge, jury and executioner. And who appointed them to their positions of power, it was I, who made them. And it is I, with the help of my tribe and companions who shall quiet them, till those voices are but a whisper.
Coming to this level of acceptance has proven to be the most difficult part of my journey. Coping with the loss as deeply personal and painful as a traumatic and lost childhood—often takes deep courage and resilience. Nobody can help me go through it more easily or understand
all the emotions that I am going through. But others will always be there for me and help comfort me through this process if I am willing to ask for help and guidance. The best thing I can
do is to allow myself to feel the grief, the anger, the sadness as it comes and be brave, embrace my discomfort.
Resisting it only will prolong the natural process of healing.
And I have come to far, to let my soul suffer unnecessarily any longer.





