It has been said, that all individuals are a work in progress. There are some of us who are committed to ‘seriously’ unravelling the twisted jumble of emotional twine, that is the weave of our lives. We are attempting to heal from childhood trauma and have a complex and often wounded psyche.
I am one of these brave hearts. I openly admit that I have seen a psychologist or three. On the road, I have needed several inns for shelter. These safe places have been imperative after cancer treatment and to manage the forced changes to my life.
I was an early adopter and have remained a loyal advocate of self help. My bookshelves are my witness. I have ‘run with the wolves’, applied ‘life strategies’ and ‘felt the fear and done it anyway’. I have unpacked my birth order, my archetypes and personality profile, identified ‘Bradshaw’s family role’, reviewed the ‘scripts that people play’ and explored transactional analysis.
I have diluted my once overbrimming well of sadness, anger and resentment, actively forgiven past hurts and injustices and cried a small inland sea. I have faced head on the dark corridor of cancer treatment options, fronted up to the toxicity of chemotherapy and radiation and live in the shadow of a reduced life expectancy and daily health challenges. I have congratulated myself on the serious kilometres I have travelled, only to discover I am still dragging luggage and picking at obstinate scars.
Cancer is like all trauma. It is uninvited and unwanted. It is an invasion of boundaries. For those of us familiar with trespassers or invaders, we know that our adult survival in the company of others is to maintain appropriate and comfortable boundaries. Often childhood trauma survivors are people pleasers, afraid of rejection from others, seeking approval at the cost of the authentic self.
My emotional twine is partly frayed, jute like, and has sparkling treasures like a Bower bird’s nest. Sometimes brittle as cobweb silk, often strong as nylon rope and twisted by painful memories, it is knotted tightly by the love, woven with crystallised tears and soften by laughter.
I was once focused on giving relentlessly and abundantly, stretching beyond reasonable limits. There was no effort that I would not take to prove my worth. My resume attests to this achievement. I sought approval from people with clay feet. Many did not have the grace or emotional intelligence to appreciate complexity and to cradle it gently. They were however well practiced in manipulation and theft.
I have now found my tribe. I am receiving abundance with gratitude and joy. I am open to new members, but I prefer to be selective. I am practicing the art of balance.