There lives inside all of us, a wounded child. A small, forgotten part of ourselves.
It seems that we spend most of our lives running from that little one, only one day to have
to turn and confront that which frightens us the most. Our Self.
For some of us that day may take decades, for others it may be imposed upon us
by circumstances outside of our control and for others still, it may be our only chance at
life.
The latter being mine ... I move on.
The journey I must now begin is terrifying, and yet is in some way quite
exhilarating. As I stand back in my fear, I want desperately to push on towards the truth.
Dryden once wrote, “For all the happiness mankind can gain ... is not in pleasure, but in
rest from pain.”
I am tired. So exhausted from hurting. And if I, as the adult, am so drained, what
of the child inside of me? Who is she? What is she like? When did I leave her behind?
Where does she hide? Why was she wounded? Oh yes, the five W’s. Who? What? When?
Where? Why? And finally ... How?
How do I reach her? How do I find my way back to her? And once I find her, will
she accept my help? Will she accept me? Warts and all?
So, here I am, thirty-four years old ... trying to put the pieces of my life, my heart,
my soul, back together again. To do that, I’ll need to deal with the guilt and shame. For
some reason that frightens me. Immobilizes me. Why? What is it that I have to fear from
this quest? Has the shame become something so familiar to me, that the thought of life
without it is scary? I don’t know.
Judy. That small, wounded, little girl, who hides just out of my reach and outside
of anyone else’s. I need to take a few minutes to speak with her. Please ... bear with
me...................................................
“Hi sweetheart. It’s me. Don’t be scared, I just want to sit here with you and talk.
I miss you. I love you. How are you Jude? Can you come out of the shadows for a little
while? Good! Here baby, why don’t you sit on my lap so I can hold you. Would you like
that? Gosh, you are so pretty and you smell so good. Can I rock you as we talk? Judy, I
love you, you mean so much to me. You are so special. I will try not to let anyone hurt
you anymore, but I cannot promise that you won’t be. Know this little one, that you are
not alone in your pain and fear. I am with you always and we will learn how to cope
together. It was never, ever, your fault, nor was your silence a bad or terrible thing. You
only did what you were told to do and after that, you did what you needed to do, to
survive. No, life isn’t fair baby, nor is it just. Yes, I know ... he stands clean in the
world’s eyes, but there are those of us who know the Truth. We know what happened to
you and we know what it has done to you. We do not blame you, we only want to love
you and help you to heal. Will you let us? I hope so.”
Thanks, I needed to make sure she was with me in this venture, I needed to talk to
her, and hold her for a few moments.
Now, where was I? Oh yes, shame. Webster says that shame is: “...a painful sense
of having done something wrong, improper or immodest.”
Incest victims internalize their shame. We turn all of those feelings of
“wrongfulness” inward on ourselves. We believe that we are flawed, damaged goods,
unlovable, dirty, sick in some unknown way. The shame goes deep into our psyche, our
soul, our mind. It infects our very being. Instead of rightfully blaming the offender, we
for some reason take the full measure of blame and place it on ourselves. If only we were
good enough, loved enough, endured enough. If only we were more patient, more kind
and giving. If only ... if only....
I cannot live up to my “if only’s.” Because ... to the child inside of me, I can
never ‘be’ enough. I am unworthy.
Can you see the crazy-making logic of the wounded child? She knows no other
way. It has nothing to do with fault. That would be guilt and she knows she has no guilt.
Shame reaches deeper, guilt is easily washed away. Shame stains for life.
Stains have always bothered me, so it’s time to deal with the shame. I know
how shame based I am, and to hope to ever have a healthy relationship will require
confronting all of these issues.
I have spent my life trying to be perfect, good enough, hard-working, the best.
What unbelievable, unrealistic goals I’ve set for myself. It’s no wonder I can never ‘Be’
enough.
So ... how do I stop the cycle and begin to heal?
I came across this, while doing some “house” cleaning. I began this piece nearly ten years
ago. Of course, there’s more ... I used to pull this out ever so often and add to it and when
it became too uncomfortable to bear, to deal ... apparently, I would put this away.
Not unlike what we do with our past.
I’m still working on my life. I’m still learning and growing and I still fall into the abyss
of depression and fear. Yet, I’ve come to understand, that for me ... the brief moments of
darkness lead to a much stronger, brighter light, and I don’t fight it anymore.
I don’t retreat or run. I simply allow the darkness to envelope me in it’s warmth and
familiarity and then I am able to make a conscious move back into the light..
I know I’m not done. I know I am not “there” yet, but I am more whole today then I have
ever been. I look forward to what the Gods bring my way, I look forward to each and
every trial and tribulation. They are signs that I am growing.
I think sometimes we don’t even know how far we’ve come, how much we have healed
until we pull something out of the back of the closet, examine it for worth and realize
that in our own hands ... we hold a priceless treasure.
We hold our Self and in holding that, we hold our future.
I thank the Lady for the illumination of my soul, and ask that we all know the gentle
breeze of growth.
Webmistress and sole proprietor J. A. Stroud a.k.a. GlassPoet. Nothing on these pages may be used without the express permission of the author / webmistress.
