As I’ve been working through the book, Healing the Scars of Emotional Abuse, I’ve come to understand a bit more why I think the way I do. I understand that part of the reason that I have found healing so difficult and long is because I’ve been minimizing the abuse without even realizing I was doing it. What I mean by “minimizing the abuse” is that I’ve not only convinced myself that the abuse wasn’t as bad as it was, but I also believed that I actually was as bad as my abusers said I was. It made the abuse easier for me if I anticipated all the negatives they said to me. I figured if I’d already said it to myself, their saying it didn’t hit quite as hard.
Minimizing the Abuse
Evidently, according to the book, minimizing the abuse is one of the main ways those who are abused cope with it so that they can continue to live a “normal life” through it all. I never would have been able to describe it this way, but it is what I’ve done. When I looked back over my life, I remembered a time that left no doubt in my mind that this was how I’d lived my life, and still do to some point.
In the first year after my husband died, I was referred to go to an intensive therapy program. When I called to look into it, there were a number of questions I had to answer to see if I qualified for the program. As soon as they told me I had to qualify, I knew without a doubt that I would not qualify because things hadn’t been that bad. I was shocked when they stopped asking me questions and scheduled me to start the program with no hesitation. It became even more clear when I was in the program and one of the doctors was doing an evaluation to stay in the group. He was upset because he said he knew I needed to be in the group for a longer time, but I “functioned too well”. He was really upset by this, so I told him I was sorry that I was functioning at too high of a level. He laughed a little but said he was going to see what he could do to get me more time (which gave me a couple more weeks at part-time).
Intensive Therapy
I didn’t quite understand what he was saying about functioning “too well” until I was asked to be the subject for some kind of a focused study they do. I don’t remember what it was called, but everyone is in one room and a doctor is asking just one person about their experiences. It is a “dig in deep” counseling session. I don’t remember what it was called, but I had already watched two of them. In both cases the person broke down and there was some type of a break through. They felt so much better and finished with the intensive therapy soon after.
Unfortunately, this did not happen for me. It was rough, I remember that clearly! I was asked very pointed questions about my life and the abuse that was such a big part of it. I remember being very overwhelmed and couldn’t even answer quite a few questions because I simply had no answer. I couldn’t tell you what those questions were, but I do remember clearly how it ended. The counselor said to me, “There won’t be any crying in this session will there?” I just stared at him and then shook my head. He then said that there would be no crying because I couldn’t cry, could I? I shook my head. He then said that I couldn’t cry because I had built up such an elaborate fortress around myself to “protect” me from the abuse, and it had been built so strong that my emotions couldn’t come out even if I tried. I was floored. I couldn’t believe he was saying that to me and I just stared at him. He said it one more time. I stared. He then asked me if what he was saying was true. I lowered my head and nodded. That was the end of the session.
It was an awful experience and one I wouldn’t want to repeat. It’s odd, but the feeling I remember most was that I had disappointed everyone. At the end of the other sessions I watched, people were walking up to the person, hugging them and telling them they had done a good job. At the end of mine, it was just quiet with people walking out of the room avoiding eye contact with me. I was left feeling like I couldn’t even do this process correctly. I had failed yet again.
Is This Where I Stay?
I pretty much feel that way now. I’ve been going to counseling since shortly after my husband died. I’m still in counseling. I am battling with another huge bout of depression at this moment for whatever reason now, too. What is wrong with me? I just can’t seem to get a handle on my life. I know life isn’t going to be roses and candy all the time, but couldn’t it be for a longer time than it usually does? I want to break out of this fortress, but I clearly don’t have the right tools or the fortress was built so well that it’s impenetrable. Impenetrable…that’s what scares me. Is this a fortress I am going to be living in for the rest of my life? Is there really a way out of it or did I forget to build any doors or windows in my fortress?
I honestly don’t know, but I can’t go there yet. I can’t believe that this is where my story ends or, in a better word, stays. I know I have to continue with counseling, but since I have done this for so long, there probably is something more I need to do. I don’t know what that is, though. In minimizing the abuse, I not only built a fortress, but part of that fortress was built on my believing the hatred that was said to me. That’s a huge hurdle, but I know that God is bigger than everything. Even through the pain and depression, He is in control. I don’t understand why this has been my life or how it can be used for good, but I trust Him.
~ Joanna Lynn
