Clenched Fists

I like that my new counsellor checks in regularly to ask me what I am feeling. That constant bodily awareness, as I recount events from the past helps me immensely. It helps me to reconnect with the body I left behind all those years ago. It is part of diving down and reclaiming me; the integration and journey to wholeness.

I have noticed my clenched fists, the suffocating feeling that I have, that feeling of being so bloated; so full of feelings and memories that need release. The breathlessness that I feel and the pain of the stomach cramps that rip through my body throughout the session.

Today I sobbed so loudly. I usually cry quietly, softly and inwardly; but today I cried aloud. It was a welcome release of so much emotion that needed to come out. Incredible sadness beneath layers of disgust and pain and anger.

I released a little of my burden today and in the safe space we created, I was able to imagine that my father was there and I asked him, ‘Why?” and “How could you” and now I feel drained and uncomfortable and wish that I had sleeping tablets so that I could just disappear and have a deep uninterrupted sleep.

I want to leave this uncomfortable place that I am in and escape with food, or movies, or someone or something. But there is no escape and nowhere to go. I am here and I will feel this until it leaves and I will be ok.

And If I will be ok, you will be ok too. We can do this, you and I. We can face it all and feel it and still be ok. We belong and we are worthy and we deserve healthy relationships in which we are heard and seen and in which we have informed choice. We survived the worst and we fought for our lives and our spirits were not broken and our fires not dampened.

We are safe now and we can use our voices and we can take up room and be proud of ourselves and nurture ourselves the way we should have been as children. We are ok you and I. We know that.