Thursday, February 07, 2008

No Exits

It was an exceptionally painful group last night. Anniversaries and birthdays crop up from traumas past, certainly not yet forgotten, nor will they ever be. Old wounds reappear as if they happened yesterday. Raw and painful, they seem to almost physically present themselves.

There is something sacred about sitting in a room with women who are mourning so deeply. We grieve as if alone. When we speak it’s as if we are thinking thoughts outloud that we dare not say in front of anyone.

A secret society of sorts I guess.

As I drove home on this cold, dark, and rainy winter night, a sadness so palpable begins to set in. Not only for myself but for the others in the group.

It’s taken me a year to finally learn how to “just sit” with the sadness of others and myself. Sit with a hole so deeply embedded in your heart and soul, no one can understand it. There is no way around it.

No one can fix it. No one can make it better. No one can change it.

Years ago I couldn’t even think about the sadness.

Last year I couldn’t sit still thinking about the sadness. It occupied every waking moment, intruded every dream I had at night, and blinded me to any hope or aspiration.

I saw fear and sadness at each and every turn. It was everywhere. No escape. Like the Satre novel, No Exits, where different levels of hell exist for everyone. You are stuck in your own personal hell with every despicable character and perpetrator that crossed your path.

There have been many profound moments in this group.

Last night something clicked that makes so much sense to me now.

As the trauma is dissected in front of us all, TGD gently and quietly guides us through the reality and maze of tragedy and trauma.

TGD is a healer in every sense of the word. The healing is magical when you consider the depths at which you once were.

How this woman does this is beyond me. I see the healing powers with others and not just myself. And I look- I actually watch to see how she does this and it’s still a mystery to me. Her answers and even her questions just flow. It seems so natural to her, like laughing or driving or reading a book. But it’s not as trite as that. It’s her passion, her cause, her gift to others.

“You cannot alter the tragedy”, she says, “No one can take away your pain. It will never go away. It is embedded in your being. It cannot be fixed.”

“What you can do,” she continued, “is to recognize it for what it was, a horrible, senseless tragedy that has changed your life. Once that is recognized and that tragedy is put in its place, you can continue to rebuild the life that was taken. Make changes, takes risks, and begin to trust yourselves.”

Was this the first time I’ve heard these words?
Was this the first time TGD said these words?
Was this the first time I was ready to hear these words?

Maybe a combination of all three. I don’t know.
I do know that sitting with the trauma, seeing it, dissecting it outloud with others and facing it has somehow put the trauma in remission.

Yes, the trauma has happened.

But that was then and this is now.

Today remission. Tomorrow perhaps I'll discover the cure.


Blogger Carrie Wilson Link said...

Goose bumps.

2:47 PM  
Blogger Jerri said...

A thousand angels are dancing on the heads of ten thousand pins right now, Suzy, in celebrations of enormous proportions.

Thank God for TGD. Thank God for you, sweet friend.

I love you.

5:54 PM  
Blogger s@bd said...

LIFE to you, my dear! LIFE!

(I'm not even sure what I'm talking about here, I just wanted to say that.)

7:51 PM  
Blogger La La said...

“What you can do,” she continued, “is to recognize it for what it was, a horrible, senseless tragedy that has changed your life. Once that is recognized and that tragedy is put in its place, you can continue to rebuild the life that was taken. Make changes, takes risks, and begin to trust yourselves.”

Thanks for this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

The sadness I feel is so palpable it frightens me at times. I often think thoughts like, "I never had a chance," and of course that does me no good. And trusting myself after being so rejected by the very person I sought help from, well, that's another tragedy all together.

Putting it all in its place and rebuilding, that brings hope.

Bless you.

9:26 PM  
Blogger kario said...

That is the trick, isn't it? Just learning to sit with it, for yourself and others. I am honored to sit next to you, Suze. I am so pleased that you found TGD. I am so pleased you found the courage in yourself to stick with her. I am so pleased that you are healing.

Love you.

12:01 AM  
Blogger Mid-lifer said...

It sounds like you have made a massive step forward Suzy. That's fantastic.

Superb writing as always.


4:01 AM  
Blogger Nancy said...

You are more than a survivor. You are also a healer; healing yourself and those around you. Way to go Suz!

7:31 AM  
Anonymous Maddy said...

You know when I read your [infrequent!] posts I usually just slink away as I can never think of anything to say.

Our life experiences are so different.

If I were you I would be tempted to visit a hypnotist, someone who would completely wipe my memory bank so that I wouldn't have to deal with the past here and now. But of course, if I did that, I'd wipe out the good too.

I can't even imagine having the strength to face your situation and deal with it.

Best wishes as always

9:50 AM  
Blogger Manic Mother Of Five said...

No words, can't type through tears. Just a big, big hug.


Luv ya


1:23 PM  
Blogger Casdok said...

And another hug from me :)

12:23 PM  
Blogger Deb said...

Isn't it an amazing paradox that we have to feel our pain alone, but that the only way those of us who were so deeply traumatized can get to the pain is with the help of gifted healers.

Your willingness to share your story creates healing, and so the circle goes.

I love you. I'm so proud to know you.

2:02 PM  
Blogger crazymumma said...

I came over here from S@bd.

I went back to your very first page, I wish I had more time to read more...

4:55 PM  
Blogger crazymumma said...

And I wonder, I cannot help but...what your tragedy is, besides Frankie of course.

4:56 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

And crazymumma emailed me and sent me your way. I'm going back in to read more...but this most recent post is so moving. Important words here.

8:45 PM  
Blogger dgibbs said...

Another wonderful post Suzy! Thank you!

Love and Hugs,

11:13 AM  
Blogger Mid-lifer said...

I notice you don't put awards on your blog, but I did nominate you for one because I think your blog truly excellent!


6:21 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Life has to go on. Most of what we do is determined by our past, yet we often think we are living for the future.

No one can make you or anyone forget about what tore your life apart, but they can help you realise that you no longer need to mourn it.

Crystal xx

1:45 PM  
Anonymous paul maurice martin said...

Personally, I've found that much of the work that goes on happens and even gets well underway without me noticing it - and then there's a breakthrough, and in retrospect I see the little signs I'd missed.

8:43 PM  
Blogger She's like the wind said...

I wish there was a cure, but I'm glad its making sense to you.

I have an award waiting for you over at my place. x

5:29 PM  
Blogger Michelle O'Neil said...

When I just read this, I got chills at the part where you were studying the doctor. "How she does this?" and the words that came to me are "Suzy is going to become a healer herself."

Adn will all make sense.


1:21 PM  
Blogger Maggie May said...

Sorry to hear you have been through the mill. I sometimes think that some people suffer so that they can help others in a similar situation. You will get there with determination, I am sure. Take heart.

2:00 PM  
Blogger grammer said...

Suzy, your writing reveals leaps and bounds of healing since I last read you. It really is something to watch you bloom. xo tg

4:37 PM  
Anonymous Frogdancer said...

I've given you some blog bling. (Actually, with the dark background you have, it'll probably be invisible, but hey. It's the thought that counts.) Details are on my blog.

1:03 AM  
Blogger Kim said...

Oh Suzy, this is such incredible writing.

Your strength and your the healing knock me to my knees. TGD is otherworldly in her brilliance, this is true. It is also true that you and everyone in that group are just as brilliant, just as inspiring, as she is, for being able to let it all in.

"That was then. This is now."
Like Carrie said....goose bumps.

2:08 PM  
Blogger riversgrace said...

Hi, Suze. In a way it's wonderful to visit after a stretch because I can also see the growth, the depth of growth.

There is the one who is watching it all now, but no longer dissociated. Embodied and present, noticing. That is the great Self that all traditions speak of, the one who rises from the ashes because that one was the one watching the whole time, the whole life, every moment. To get in touch with that one is amazing. And from that place, we can actually be with others pain.

You have taken a remarkable journey. I bow to you.

9:17 PM  
Blogger Pig in the Kitchen said...

TGD is very wise. It's hard to read your writing, you are so brave to write and to expose yourself, I hope it helps. The two posts above this are heartbreaking, really heartbreaking. I don't know what else to say, I wish I could send some comfort somehow.

6:43 PM  
Blogger menopausaloldbag (MOB) said...

With this post I don't feel helplessness from you. I feel real hope that you are on the right track to wrapping this stuff up into a box and storing it somewhere deep like burying toxic waste.

Of course the cure you are talking about is most likely the day you no longer consider yourself a victim and free yourself from the shackles that these people who hurt you hold you to them.

What a post! Brilliant.

6:52 AM  

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