One of the things I've come to realize over the last several months (couple of years?) is that things aren't always what we percieve them to be at the time.
I'm the queen of denial .. I think that has been my survival for many a year (decade?) and for one reason or another, it doesn't work anymore. Along with the failure of denial for current time and place ... has come an enlightenment of past events in my life. A clarity of what I actually went through.
When I was first urged (read forced) to go into therapy by my primary care doc, the psychiatrist immediately diagnosed me with an eating disorder and post traumatic stress disorder. I was shocked as could be that they had the NERVE to diagnose the eating disorder! But totally confused at the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder!!
What? ME? WHY?
The second appointment, it was the first question out of my mouth ..what is this and why?
He looked at me like I'd asked him if he was human. (could you ask a more obvious question???) He took a couple of moments, took a couple of breaths, started to talk a couple of times but had to stop and then finally said "why do you think you Don't have it?"
I asked him "just what have I been through that has been so traumatic?"
He looked at me again like he was stunned. "Do you not think that finding your step father after he'd committed suicide was traumatic?"
I let the subject drop.
I'd been asked in my 'evaluation' about 'ALL TRAUMATIC EVENTS' ...but it probably took 5 years of therapy for them to come tumbling out.
It was about 3 or 4 months into it when something was mentioned about my 2 pregnancies. I said "3"
"Three? you have 2 sons"
"yes, but I lost a baby at 20 weeks, a girl"
Again with the stunned look.
"Peggikaye, that .. had to have been traumatic, do you really not realize how traumatized you've been?"
Time went on, and secrets slipped out, most of them traumas.
When I started therapy I told them I'd had a happy childhood, secure and balanced. I realize now that was my very rose colored glasses ...looking back in my denial because I didn't want to, or couldn't handle the truth.
The realization that ... I went to 12 schools between kindergarten and 12th grade ...not exactly secure.
Recently, I've been in contact with the step mother that I had from age 13 months to age 25. She put in that letter that I had one of the hardest, most traumatic lives that she could imagine. (HUH??? WHAT?) She admired how strong I was, and that she wasn't surprised that I was seeking the truth now, because that is who I was as a child ...always the truth seeker.
I did come to the realization about a year and a half ago that my childhood was far more difficult than I'd let myself believe. I really don't think I knew why. Recently, I think I've figured out that I thought ..if I admited it was tough while my step father was alive ...did that make him a bad dad. (answer, no) But somehow, I had to paint, in my mind, that life with Daddy was all roses and picnics ... when in fact there was a reason I see him as my refuge and safety ...because ... I often needed to take refuge and safety in a world that was often chaotic, and empty and cruel.
It has painted a lot of who I am. But if I don't get at the truth, the real truth, then I don't think I can continue growing into who I want to be.
I wrote a poem once, I've put in on here many times ..but it's so true ..will I ever become who I am supposed to be if I'm hiding behind a mask who is not me? (paraphrased)