Love LaMott's book.

There are still significant portions of my childhood that I don't remember. Not just unremembered trauma, but no memories at all, even of ordinary stuff. This bothered me because I couldn't see how I could recover if I couldn't remember everything: wouldn't the unremembered continue to twist my life into knots?

My T told me he didn't believe that to be so. That the processing I had done would result in changes that would not be erased. That, in fact, the changes would become more solid, growing more deeply over time, because the changes didn't reside in the therapy, they resided in me.

What I've found is that he was right. I have recovered a few more memories spontaneously in the years since. They were powerful in recognition, but not overwhelming emotionally. Even though they were quite horrific events, and they were momentarily shocking to me, I experienced a resilience I'd never known before. They've taken their place in the landscape of my life, but they didn't "undo" me fundamentally. I have to think that this is what recovery is.

I could not have foreseen this would be possible while I was in the middle of the process. But my inability to see this had nothing to do with the reality of its existence.