I am finally coming to a more peaceful place. Part of it is just surrendering to the pain. It's just going to hurt right now. Somehow, just accepting that instead of panicking and wishing it would stop has settled things down inside a little bit.

T has been SO there for me, like every day. That has helped. And just knowing I'm heard helps. He dosn't say "it will be okay", or anything like that. I say "It hurts, a lot" and he says "I know". And I say "I wish I didn't tell you" and he says "I know". And he sounds so sad and I know he gets is. It feels right. Because it's NOT okay right now, and having him know that it's not makes it easier to accept. We're not fighting it. It just is.

I sent him an e-mail yesterday and he e-mailed back and said that what I wrote was the most beautiful thing he had read in a long long time. Today he told me that if it was okay, he wanted to use what I wrote with his other clients. I'm honestly not even sure what I wrote that touched him so much, but it feels good that T was so affected by whatever it was. I wanted to ask, but just felt shy about his reaction, so maybe I'll never know. It's okay.

Today, in session, we talked about how T used to make little dams out of rocks when he was a little boy and how he would move one rock at a time and watch how that changed the flow of the water. He said that's what this is like, and he said he wishes he knew which rocks to move to make it smooth and easy for me, but he doesn't know. And he said the big rock we just moved was hiding a LOT of pain.

I wrote this to him after session, when I had an "a-ha" about where my spirals come from:

So I was thinking about what you said about this process being like building a dam of rocks, and taking the rocks away one by one, and seeing how the flow of the water changes. And I realized after I left, that THAT is the spiral for me. I move a rock, water flows where it wasn't before, and it feels scary and unfamiliar and maybe makes a little whirlpool even. It seems like it would be easier to put the rock back in...but once the rock has been moved, I'll never be able to put it back exactly where it was. So as the water moves in and makes its little whirlpools and the flow changes...it's scary. I don't know what the new flow will look like. And that moment - the ETERNAL moment - between "I moved the rock" and "this is how things are now" - feels almost unbearable. And that's the spiral.

I think that's why I can only try new thoughts like "I am okay" or "I can be loved" one out of ten times...because otherwise, it's just like a FLOOD and the spiral is unbearable and I just throw the rock back in however I can get it there and it makes everything harder.

The other thing T said in session was this. We were talking about the body memories I am having right now. It REALLY hurts. I mean, really a lot. And I told T that when it happened, I thought I would literally rip in two. And that in a way, I did...I split, I became more than one inside, my soul ripped in two. And T said that the pain I am having now is the RIGHT pain. The physical pain. That the spiritual pain, the pain in my soul...that pain is not mine to keep. This is the only thing that needs to hurt now, and this will go away. I was sitting next to him and when he said that, I let out a big sigh and T said "I wonder how much pain just left with that breath. Not IF pain left...but how much". And he was right. I could feel it leave. Not all of it. But some.

SO. It still hurts, but there is some peace too.

T and I talked a little about not knowing whether to pause here or keep moving rocks. I think we moved one more little rock today. But now it's time to pause. I can feel it.

I asked T what I should do if I needed him. And he said, "well, there's the phone, and there's e-mail". So I feel like he's there if I need him, and that makes me feel safer.

Thank you for helping me through this. It was such a relief last night to realize that if I end my life now, I will never get a chance to experience what it's like to live without the pain. It makes it worth it to keep trying.

[pachyderm]

(((treehouse)))

I am so touched by your honesty and vulnerability with your T and with us here. I'm inspired at how you are asking your T for what you need--reassurance, contact, comfort--and he is giving it to you without pause.

I am so glad you are feeling some peace. I think you might do well to pause for a while and just enjoy the calm after this storm.

Also know that your expression of pain is helping others here to be more courageous in their healing. I know it's helped me.

Thanks.

[zooropa]

oh tree. I am so glad you are feeling some peace. So glad.

[jexa]

((((tree)))) You can't see it, but tears are running down my face for you. You are doing such a difficult thing. This is so, so, so hard. I'm SO, so, so glad you are finding some peace.

[rainbow8]

tree, that's how your post made me feel. I'm glad you are feeling some peace now. Thank you for sharing your feelings.

[BlueMoon6]

Oh, Tree. This was truly the mst beautiful thing I have read in a long time. The analogy of moving the rocks and the water flowing now into different places and once the rock has been moved it can no longer be replaced and stop the flow of water. I think it so describes the pain we feel after a traumatic memory has been unearthed. It is what we have been avoiding. Everything we do to keep those rocks in place even if the flow of water pushes HARD against them. NO! I will LEAN on the rocks if I have to. NO FLOW! That is what, for me, food does, SI does, dissociating does, anything. It leans on the rocks and refuses to move them to allow the pain to flow.

I think the best part is that once you are used to the new flow, you will enjoyand maybe even LOVE the new sounds and beauty of what you now have. What a perfect analogy. You are inspirational and awesome, Tree

[darkrunner]

((((((((((((((((Treehouse))))))))))))))
I love the rock analogy too.
Your T is so wise. I'm glad he knows exactly how to help you.

[Sannah]

Originally Posted by treehouse

Part of it is just surrendering to the pain. It's just going to hurt right now. Somehow, just accepting that instead of panicking and wishing it would stop has settled things down inside a little bit.

We're not fighting it. It just is.

What great realizations Tree.................