So This is the Story All About How…. I Ended Up in Therapy.
My instinct is to start this by saying “Sorry for the overshare” or “Sorry in advance” because I spent so many years of my life starting every story about myself this way. I’m not sorry. You came here for your own reasons. If you find something valuable in this, I’m so happy and please share it with me. If you don’t, please tell me that also.
My childhood home was one that did not make me feel safe. My very first memory is one of abuse. Growing up, I was trained to lock my bedroom door at night. I tip-toed around my home constantly worried about being the person to put my brother (or anyone really) in a bad mood. I didn’t want to be the person to start the bad times. There were times where I would instigate in the hopes that it would be less terrible and give myself a sense of control. If I am going to be physically or emotionally abused, I would rather it be on my terms. That didn’t work either.
I stayed busy and out of the house as much as I could. I was constantly involved in clubs, dance groups, student government, work, volunteering. Anything to keep me away. These were positive things in my life. But I was not necessarily a positive person doing them. I wasn’t doing them because I wanted to as much as I just didn’t want to go home. There are people I hurt because I would dump on them, treat them badly because today was harder than yesterday, take my problems out on them. I got to the point where I simultaneously couldn’t have any person NOT like me. So, take me constantly feeling guilty for not being a great friend or person and combine that with someone that’s very existence depends on every person liking them. The result is a person that doesn’t like themselves and doesn’t feel worthy of love, or life. If someone said anything about my weight, I wouldn’t eat thinking it would make them like me. I have a distinct memory of myself in the kitchen holding a steak knife to my belly fat threatening to cut it off until my sister took the knife away. If someone told me they didn’t like one of my friends, guess who doesn’t like them today either? That’s right.
After high school graduation, I moved around quite a bit. I learned more information from my family about my childhood and began to gain perspective. Along with this began my changed behavior. My brother is now receiving the care he needed all along. My parents did the best they could with the knowledge they had and did their best to protect us. For the first time in years, I was able to remember some of the happy memories of my childhood home. Most of my childhood memories have been formed from photos over the years. I don’t remember a lot of things still and have had to let go of the childhood I wanted to have.
Enter my boyfriend and our life in Colorado. We have been living together for almost seven years now, and they have been the best, messiest, most challenging, most amazing years of my life. Him and one of my sisters are the people that originally encouraged me to go to therapy. He was there after every appointment that left me shaking and crying for hours, sometimes days. He introduced me to his amazing Aunt who has developed her own Nervous System Training Program, Dr. Rhonda Duesterberg. He showed me unconditional love and patiently waited for me to learn to love myself.
Therapy was a game-changer for me to make the long-term changes I knew I needed. I have since been diagnosed with PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, and Borderline Personality Disorder. I have been rebuilding my relationship with my parents over the last several years and have grown to deeply appreciate them and their devotion to each other. We have made more happy memories together than I could possibly count. I was there to witness my dad showing up for my mom consistently when she lost both her father and step father. Watching them grow, forgive and learn together still after all of these years (35+) is breath-taking.
Therapy is an amazing tool to gain a deep, personal understanding of where you are truly at. To me, there is real strength is in showing up every day, every week, and facing your own shit head on. I have done a lot of difficult things, and let me tell you, this is the hardest. To love and invest in myself enough to allow myself to heal was my main priority in my 20s. Prior to the last few years, I had no intention of making it to 30 in the first place. I barely made it through high school without loosing myself entirely. Healing and getting mentally stable was my main priority and is what led me to realize my passion. And now, getting to share all of this with whoever wants it, is an incredible gift. I’m not done growing and don’t think I ever will be.
With love,
Sharon
