I want to go back.
And I don’t want to go back.
I don’t want to go back there.
But I know I have to.
[sobbing]
I’m so brave. I’m so brave. I’m so brave. I’m so brave.
I sit on the floor of my ambulance, full of anxiety and a knot in my stomach that started two days ago.
At the beginning of this journey so much of my memories were fully repressed, they only surfaced during DMT sessions. But now, memories invade my brain during the day for no particular reason.
Many of them are pleasant. Two days ago I remembered a time when I was attacked by a man at work, beaten by someone I’d never met before. While everyone in the room watched and said nothing. And when I wanted to call the police the bouncer told me he knew where I lived and he would rape and murder me if I did.
I looked him in the eyes and everything about him said he meant it.
When I went home, I was told by the people closest to me who supposedly loved and cared about me, that I deserved it. They literally said, “that’s what you deserve.”
They just wanted to eat us. Like a meal.
I tried to go back to work, but every time I’d start driving there I’d have a complete breakdown and have to turn around and go home. That went on for months, trying and failing every day to go back to work.
When I finally succeeded, I fell and broke my neck at work and that was the end.
My spirit guides told me something surprising in this DMT session, that they were the ones who broke my neck. Who caused the “accident”. To get me out of there, to get me out of that bad situation.
I believe it too, the circumstances of how I fell support it. I could never understand, it was like my body intentionally caused it. I just let go.
The more I dig, the more connected all of the threads of my life seem.
Did everything happen the way it did in order to bring me to this exact place in my life today? Just one thing out of place and I’d be someone different, somewhere different, right now.
This journey isn’t pretty.
I spent two days being mean, unnecessarily. Unable to see myself and acknowledge why I was behaving the way I was.
And that’s an improvement over how I used to behave, when I was completely blind to the fact that I need to heal these parts of me. Before I did any self-care or bothered to take an honest accounting of my internal situation.
I spent 2 hours sitting on the floor of my house, rocking and weaving, crying and sobbing and howling. I washed my face with what felt like gallons of tears. I felt the physical and emotional pains of those old memories as if they were new.
And having to face the reality that I’m also responsible for the trauma I received as an adult.
And fighting the anger towards the trauma I received as a child.
My eyes are all swollen from crying. I haven’t bothered to get properly dressed for the day. Thankfully I fed Dora before I began. I’m so very far from being pretty right now. I’ll go for a walk in a bit with Dora and find some remaining tears escaping. When people see me cry in public they don’t really know what to say, so they say nothing; too afraid.
I don’t know how long it will take, or what it’s going to look like on the other side. But I don’t feel like this is my choice anymore. Like waking up from a bad dream, it’s going to happen no matter how I prepare for it.
