Mom.

I am going to try to write and process something that is rather difficult for me.

Yesterday, I finally had a chance to do another EMDR session. Once again, I concentrated on my fear of abandonment, and the chronic belief that I am unworthy of love.

The session began with the same triggering moment that always seems to surface–the day, right before 3rd grade–that my grandmother gave my brother and I “back” to my mom. The day she left us…the day that I panicked, and experienced what must have been my very first panic attack.

It is familiar. I have written and written and written about it.

know that it is a moment. And I have been desperate to dig deeper and try to understand why I am so anxious about losing important relationships. Why I spiral down into a dark hole when I fear I’ve messed up. Why I need reassurance that things are okay. Continue reading

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How I’ve been defined

Yesterday, I embarked on another EMDR journey–this time, in an attempt to get to the bottom of my perfectionism. The journey itself was not as traumatic and difficult as some of the others have been, and images did come swimming before my closed eyes. One image–of a high cinder block wall that I was trying to scale, jump off of, and leave behind–seems especially relevant in my attempt to escape my little town, where I was known, had history, and, most likely, very few secrets. Breaking into my cliquish peer group as an outsider was never something that I feel like I completely achieved, and my experiences of being bullied, not fitting in, and then trying to prove myself and be better than some of them, certainly contributed to my feelings of inferiority and judgment.

So, while this was telling to me, these are not the moments that stood out to me during this EMDR session. Continue reading