Skip to main content

When Hope Looks Like Grief



Lately, whenever good and meaningful things happen, I burst into tears. They aren't happy tears, they are the tears of grief. And yet, this grief is mixed with gratitude.

It's the simultaneous recognition of two profound truths: my past was indeed horrific and that I have already survived my past.

For too many years, I held back, not allowed to feel my feelings or really admit what happened. Everything I should have expressed back then was frozen in time, along with my sense of dignity and self-worth. My way of coping with abuse was to first endure it, and then get far away from it. But even though I got away and made life choices completely opposite from my abusers, I was still bound up by all that was unvoiced. Instead of patting myself on the back for my accomplishments, I felt hypervigilant and guilty. I had not separated all the negative messages I was told by my abusers about who I was from the reality of who I was. My logical brain knew better, but my body still held on to the emotional trauma.

Grief is not linear. Sooner or later, what needs to be grieved will come out. For me, my grief is currently triggered by the good things in my life. Like my grief, I was numb to the good. In so many ways, I am realizing for the first time that I am not my parents, I will never be my parents, and that I have already set a life trajectory completely different from their choices.

My own children are growing up with a completely different reality. I have empathy for my children. I see them as unique, individual people, worthy of love and understanding. In spite of all my efforts, I am just now capable of recognizing that I really am a good mom. Admitting this does not make me grandiose like my narcissistic parents. I too deserve love and understanding. It's a fundamental human right, and it's meant for me as much as it's meant for anybody else.

After so may years of empty victories, I am finally allowing myself to show up to the party that is my life. I am allowing myself to enjoy the good by letting go of the guilt and shame that never was mine in the first place. I am finally allowing myself to acknowledge that damn, I did alright after all. It's going to be okay. It's already okay. In fact, it's wonderful.

And that's when the tears come.

Comments

  1. I continue to be inspired and thankful for your honesty. This is also the path I am walking, and it is a relief to hear someone else voice the same experiences aloud,

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

No, There Are Not Two Sides

  I was in a meeting where a mediator was trying her best to stay impartial to a situation where a large volume of well-documented verbal and emotional abuse had occurred. She was a trained professional, but professionally speaking, she didn't want to be in a position to take sides on the issue. She offered the worn-out platitude, "Well, there are two sides to every story..." I let it slide the first time she said it, but when she said it again, I stopped her. "Actually, when it comes to abuse, there are not two sides. There is abuse, and there is the recipient of abuse. The recipient of abuse is not at fault for the actions of the abuser." Her jaw dropped a moment, then she nodded slowly. She knew I was right, and in this moment, a light went on. The situation she was mediating was not about two people having a disagreement. It was about a serial abuser attacking someone else who had done nothing to provoke the attack. She couldn't stay impartial. It

The Difference Between Trauma and Anxiety

I've been living with the effects of complex trauma for a long time, but for many years I didn't know what it was. Off and on throughout my life, I've struggled with what I thought was anxiety and depression. Or rather, In addition to being traumatized, I was anxious and depressed.  All mental health is a serious matter, and should never be minimized. If you are feeling anxious or depressed, it's important and urgent to find the right support for you. No one gets a prize for "worst" depression, anxiety, trauma or any other combination of terrible things to deal with, and no one should suffer alone. With that in mind, there is a difference between what someone who has CPTSD feels and what someone with generalized anxiety or mild to moderate depression feels. For someone dealing with complex trauma, the anxiety they feel does not come from some mysterious unknown source or obsessing about what could happen. For many, the anxiety they feel is not rational

Why Psychological Trauma is More Damaging Than Physical Trauma

You were lied to on the playground.  "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." Neuroscientists and psychologists have proven in spades that words hurt most of all. But first, let's establish that abuse of any kind is horrible, heinous, and deserving of attention and care. The impact of physical trauma ought never be minimized in order to shine a light on psychological trauma. Not only is all trauma valid, all perceptions of trauma are valid. Two people can experience the same event and have drastically different outcomes. One's experience isn't more or less valid than another. If it hurts, seek help. Physical trauma is visceral. There is hard, objective evidence of abuse. Most people don't question its validity. It's cut and dry. "If he hits you, you should leave." If you are beaten or shot in a senseless crime, no one will try to convince you it didn't really happen. Children who are physically abused are