Day 24 of 31

I've been re-skimming Judith Herman's Trauma and Recovery. You know going back through and reading the portions I underlined or starred or highlighted; the pages I turned the corner down on. 
I was diagnosed with chronic PTSD in 2000 and I read this book for the first time in 2003. It was the first book on the subject that really spoke to me. I found myself all throughout the pages. 
It was a good news, bad news dilemma. The good news was I'm not alone. My responses are consistent with others' who have suffered abuse. The bad news was it validated that all these terrible things in my head were true. 
I read a post the other day written by another survivor about serial victims. Another term that unfortunately applies to me. What is it about having been abused that makes other perpetrators see me? It's like having a target on your back, or a flashing neon sign that says, "Pick me". 
And for all those years I believed it was something I had done that made it keep happening, or that the repetition was proof that I was making it all up. More abuse, emotional this time, even though the abusers were long gone from my day to day life.
My therapist and husband keep saying "Be kind to yourself" and "get angry", but I don't know how. Honestly. 
I've spent my entire life finding fault with myself and avoiding anger, except the kind that used to come roiling out at inappropriate times. I've gotten that under control, because I don't want to be like the abusers. Angry for no apparent reason. Lashing out verbally and physically. 
So I'm rethinking anger and what it really looks like. You know, righteous anger. The kind of anger that says you may not hurt me, but don't worry I won't hurt you. 
The "be kind to yourself" is taking even longer. How do I know when I'm doing enough and when I'm just being lazy? It looks silly typed up like that, but that's really what I worry about. How much is enough to make me a valuable, worthwhile, whole person? How much fun can I have and how many things can I do just because I like it, before I've crossed the line and become self-centered and uncaring of others' needs?
And then I remember grace. And I think about the gift freely given to me. The little girl who was abused grown up to be the woman who is trying to stop that cycle of abuse. 
And God says: "But if you give them a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you’ll soon wish you hadn’t. You’d be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck." -- Matthew 18:6 (The Message).
And I find comfort in God's adamant love for me, and choose to embrace His grace.

linking up to imperfect prose on thursdays and Write on Edge

Day 23 of 31

"Trauma is trauma". That's what I say to people when they talk about their own struggles. It's not about comparisons. Whatever you struggle with is what you have to learn to deal with.

And yet, sometimes when I hear people throwing around terms it irks me -- no, actually it infuriates me. It makes me angry.

The first time I noticed it was in the grocery. Someone said the prices on foods made him feel as if the manufacturers were just raping the consumers. Whoa! I don't think so, not even close. The price of cereal compared to being raped? 

I remember after 9/11, my therapist (at the time) saying the whole nation was suffering from PTSD, and I felt belittled. Maybe there was some truth in it, but it made my personal story feel unworthy. What I heard was "Get over it. Look what all these other people are going through." I don't think that's what he meant, but still . . . 

I've said it before and will no doubt say it again, I am a words girl. Definitions are my bread and butter. I live by definitions. 

Trauma -- a : an injury (as a wound) to living tissue caused by an extrinsic agent
b : a disordered psychic or behavioral state resulting from severe mental or emotional stress or physical injury
c : an emotional upset

That cuts a wide swath. Judith Hermann in her book Trauma and Recovery says it this way -- . . . simplistic efforts to quantify trauma ultimately lead to meaningless comparisons of horror. The salient characteristic of the traumatic event is its power to inspire helplessness and terror.

So maybe my theory that trauma is trauma needs to be updated by remembering what trauma really is. Having a bad day is not trauma. Thinking you or someone you love is about to die is trauma. 

Did I believe I would die? Did I feel powerless and helpless in those of moments of abuse? You bet I did. At times the abusers told me how they were going to kill me. At other times the pain and horror were so intense I couldn't imagine surviving. 

So what's the point of all this? I guess, it's to remind us all to think before we speak. And I'll keep working on listening with a discerning hear. Trying to hear what you mean even when what you say irks me.