If you’ve been following my page for a while then it’s likely you know that I am the survivor of an abusive marriage but I have a confession to make, I didn’t tell you the whole truth. You see that relationship was just one chapter in my life, I actually have a history of abuse that started when I was a toddler.
I have always referred to myself as a survivor but the truth is, when I shared that post, I was still a victim, even though I didn’t realise it at the time. I was still living with fear, not the fear of physical danger anymore, thank goodness but the fear of speaking up, the fear of being seen, the fear of being heard, the fear of being judged, the fear of hurting other people, the fear of being vulnerable, the fear of letting go of that hard, strong part of myself that had protected me and kept me safe for so long. So I want to share the rest of my story with you. Sadly my story is not uncommon and it is my hope that by sharing it, I will give others a voice too.
When I was a toddler, my dad sat up in bed and reached for his cigarettes, fumbled as he tried to light one, then he fell on the floor… he had suffered a debilitating stroke. He literally had to learn to walk and talk again. Anyone who knows anything about strokes, knows that they can completely change a person’s personality and this was the case for my dad. As he was recovering, he became abusive. Knowing that it was a result of his stroke my Mum tried to ride it out but when he picked, a then 3 year old, me up and threw me across the room she knew it was time to leave. Lacking the capacity to process what had happened to me, these events remained in my body as trapped trauma.
Fast forward a few years, to when I was 10. I was sexually abused. It was a man who was close to me and the rest of my family so he had regular access to me for many years. So much of the shame and fear that I have felt throughout my life, is actually what was projected onto me by this man.
I was 11, going on 12 when I first got my period. They were always excruciatingly painful, I remember fainting one time when we were practising for a school assembly. At 16, after 4 years of agonising and irregular periods, I was diagnosed with #PCOS. I was treated with synthetic hormones and things started to improve a little.
At the age of 17 I went to a party and got absolutely blind drunk. I put myself to bed in the back of the car and woke up with a guy on top of me who then proceeded to rape me. At the time, I never told anyone believing it was my own fault for getting myself into that situation. But you know what causes rape? Rapists!
My periods stopped again for some time afterwards and my weight ballooned.
At 22 I got engaged and moved in with my fiancé. About 6 months before the wedding, he came home rolling drunk. We got into an argument and he pushed me against my wardrobe, hard enough for the door to come off its hinges, rammed his knee up between my legs and as I squirmed out of his grasp he grabbed at my arm and broke my watch... I snatched up the cordless phone (it was 1997) and made a run for it, dialling 000 as I ran. But it was a cordless phone and I couldn’t go out of range so he heard me and pulled the plug out of the wall at the base set. Not before I got through to the cops though. I’d managed to get out who I was but not a lot else. The police rang my parents (it was a small town) but they were 100k’s away and completely oblivious. After he had plugged the phone back in the police called our house again. He pinned me to the wall with his hands around my throat and made me tell them I was fine and there was nothing to worry about. The next day he was full of remorse and while he stood there fixing my wardrobe door he promised to get help. I loved him and wanted to believe he would get better so I stayed. We got married and I actually stayed for another 4 years after that first time. But he didn’t get help… it was a constant cycle of him losing it, then being remorseful, promising to change, a few good times, a build-up, walking on egg shells, him losing it again and the cycle repeating itself until I finally left him. I had my period once in that 4 years and I truly thought I was going to die when I did!
I left that relationship swinging between wanting to numb out the pain and being determined to rise above it. I drank way too much, slept with some questionable choices of men and buried everything I felt, as deep down as I could so I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore.
During all of that time, I knew I was holding every bit of shame, fear and anger about the things that had happened to me in my body. I knew it was the root cause of my PCOS. Think of how you feel after a stressful day – you might have a headache, you might feel tense across your shoulders – it causes a physical reaction in your body. The principle is exactly the same, it was just bottled up inside me for much, much longer. I was so determined not to fall apart and be a victim, that I just kept stuffing it back down, putting on a brave face and keeping busy. Telling myself I’d address it one day when I had time! Well, a few years ago I finally made the time!!! I have spent these last few years working on healing myself both physically and emotionally.
Here are some of my strategies for releasing trapped trauma from your body:
Therapy – find yourself a good therapist and if you don’t know one, contact me. I know a brilliant therapist who works via Skype so it doesn’t matter where you are in the world.
Massage – Massage can help release tension and physical pain as well as aid your emotional wellbeing.
Essential Oils – Essential oils can provide both physical and emotional support. Physically, they cover a myriad of conditions. In my case I no longer take any synthetic hormones or pain killers for my #PCOS. Emotionally, I like to use the analogy that the oils loosen the weeds to make them easier to pull out, meaning you still need to work through your emotional blocks and triggers but the oils are incredibly supportive while you do so. If you don’t already have essential oils in your life, contact me and I will help you get started.
So there you go, I did it, I felt the fear and I posted this anyway! In fact, I no longer fear being seen, heard, judged or being vulnerable. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by what happened to me and I don’t care how many times this post gets shared. In fact I’d love it to reach as many people as possible. If it helps just one person then that will be a good day 📷:) xxx
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