Yesterday, I had an EMDR session.

I sat in a chair, across from my therapist, whom I love and trust, and boarded the train I hate to ride.

The train started at the earliest place where I could remember feeling desperate and panicked at being abandoned. It was the day my brother and I were taken out of my mother’s custody. A Christmas morning, punctured by screaming and hitting, and an angry man with a baseball bat. What I remember most was my older brother–a fifth grader–crying and frantically calling my grandmother, begging her to come and get us.

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Self Punishment

Along with the varying degrees of trauma I have experienced throughout my life, I have also experienced a large amount of self-hate. Guilt…and worthlessness.

In fact, even using the word trauma instills an immediate sense of disturbance in my body. I am critical of this word–after all, who am to label what happened to me as trauma? Many other people experienced so much worse than me.

…maybe I am just being too sensitive. Too over-dramatic about it.

Maybe it isn’t a big deal at all.  Continue reading


Hope is a powerful, healing force.

It has been coming back to me lately. But, I am also sad to admit that there are still plenty of moments where I am struggling. Where I feel the ache and the loneliness.

The weekend is always one of those times. I do great when I keep busy, but as soon as the day quiets, and I have time to think, the overwhelming feelings wash over me. Continue reading



That is how the last few months have felt.I had a hell of a start–I pummeled into a dark, scary spot, and literally had to be dragged back out by myself, my therapist, my husband, and some handy-dandy anti-anxiety drugs. Slowly, slowly, growth started happening…I would dip down, and come back up. Then, one day…BAM! I felt better. I realized I was worth it.

I felt like me. Or, at least, the ME I want to be. Continue reading