Yesterday was very intense.
While there were not a lot of instructors, nor were there many classes, I attended a class called Healing Sexual Trauma.
Yes – I thought of J (and others) – and I had foolishly hoped that I could finally learn -after the fact – about strategies that I should have known in order to help someone who had been sexually traumatized.
Because if anything, I’d wanted to at the very least provide others some sort of sanctuary from pain and negativity.
Instead, it seemed something that wasn’t so pedantic as ‘here are some strategies for helping yourself or helping others heal from sexual trauma’ as it was personal discussion about the instructor’s journey toward realizing and healing her own sexual trauma. And I realized that the discussion was not so much about methods and strategies as it was about identifying and recognizing that there are traumas that need to healed within ourselves.
As an empath, I also found myself realizing and reacting to the obvious fact that I should take note that I have my own traumas to heal and how foolish I am to think that I would be there for any other reason.
Meanwhile, L seems to love to point out to me – through these sort of sneaky ton of bricks moments – that I am foolish, that I am denying myself compassion, and everything and I do and I mean EVERYTHING – begins with me.
He wants me to have compassion with myself and take care of myself:
You must take care of My Beloved.
And by the way: That is YOU.
However, I have always made excuses.
I have been told for so many years that it is selfish to think of oneself before others.
I’ve come to react as if one of the most hurtful insults that could be directed towards me involves being accused of being self-centered or selfish….but again and again He wants me to realize that that is damaging to me and an avoidance maneuver that is so ingrained in my behavior that it is likely not even a conscious reaction on my part anymore.
So there’s that self-awareness that He is so insistent upon, and I found myself surprised to realize this facet of my behavior.
Look at yourself; everything is self-work, you know.
And so I tried valiantly not to get overwhelmed by the sensation overload that I was experiencing when others talked of their traumas as well as trying to control myself in regards to my own traumas.
This must manifest itself as a sort of selfishness in that I want to help others/save others, even though I don’t even know how to help or how to save myself sometimes
So I want to talk and I want to share, but my talking and sharing is an avoidance maneuver. It’s me saying, ‘Let’s talk about you; let’s fix you, so I don’t have to fix myself,’ and if I do talk, it might just be my attempt to fill up the space with noise, or focusing on what anyone else is presently going through so I don’t have to handle what I’ve gone through.
It is selfish. In a way, it is the way I block emotions in myself and block others from myself.
I hate myself for that.
I am aware that it is just me being closed up…another verbal masturbation session that I never intended but here I am talking about myself again.
I hold myself at a distance by talking, sometimes. I focus on constructing a wall of words and sound to keep people from knowing me and to keep myself from knowing myself.
It’s times like that that I notice that there is such a gap between what I want to do and what I am doing, what I want to confront and how I avoid the confrontation. The gap between engagement and avoidance. I do lip service to a lot of want, but not a lot of doing.
But how do I learn to stop doing that?
How to open myself so I can be open to others?
How to listen and help rather than just filling up space with pain and gloom and panic, wondering whatamigoingtodo?
Don’t look at me. I’m in pain.
I can focus on your pain but that just distracts me from my pain for the moment. I have a lot of pain in myself and I see others’ pain and I don’t know what to do about it.
I don’t know what to do with myself.
Is anything ever getting done this way?
No. Of course not.
It’s all verbal masturbation. This navel gazing has to stop.
I should do something but I don’t know what.
I have forgotten what’s important.