I Would Take Her to a Safe Place and Tell Her Truths

I had a therapy appointment today. I love my therapist, which I have mentioned before. I love having a therapist- a good one.

Something interesting and a little shocking happened yesterday. I haven't really spoken much about my marriage here, as it's not the place. And yet, today, it's the place.

My marriage was traumatic. Yes. My poor brain and heart and soul experience much trauma while in that marriage. While I was in it, I all the time made excuses for my husband's behavior.

Yesterday, I had reason to go to the very apartment complex my ex and I lived in for over half of our marriage till the end of it. The same building, even. Just a few doors down. I haven't really needed to be in that area of town since my ex and his girlfriend moved out of our apartment (they'd moved in shortly after I'd moved out) after our divorce. That's been 7 years now. So, as I turned onto the street of the apartment complex, the flashbacks blindsided me. Sudden, abrupt, simultaneous memories came at my face like fiery arrows in a battle in which I was the only one on my side. Surprised, my body even reacted, and I took in a sharp breath, tightened my body, and thrust my head to the headrest as if to back away from the attacks.

There's the park where I would take my baby in the middle of the night to get away from my husband after he'd been yelling at me or the baby over something. And suddenly, I was there, in the cold, sitting on the swing and sobbing, and hoping against hope that he would wonder where I'd gone, and come find me. Hoping against hope that he would find me and say, "oh, baby, I'm so sorry for saying those mean things. I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry I hurt you. Please come home." Hoping against hope that I wasn't the person he treated me as. I would sit there with my baby, crying and thinking my husband was maybe wrong for screaming those poison words at me- at her, even- but also knowing that it would be I who would apologize. I used to escape to that park frequently when I felt afraid or betrayed by my husband and couldn't talk to him about it (because he yelled more when I did and turned it around on me, every time).

There's the little softball field where he screamed at me in front of his work friends, in front of his girlfriend, in front of our kids. And suddenly, I was there, unable to hold back the tears in front of his softball teammates as the kids and I cried and walked back home. Suddenly, I felt it all again.

Here's where I slid on the ice and spun into a parked car. And suddenly, I was in the living room, telling him what had happened, and he was yelling before even asking if the kids and I were okay.

There's the apartment. Okay, too many horrible memories to even list that happened in that 2 bedroom itty bitty space. But dozens of them flew at me last night. It was suffocating.

I was surprised. I didn't expect that to happen, at all. I thought I was over it! I thought I was over all the marital strife, over him, over the hell of being his wife that ended 7.5 years ago. I was so annoyed that the memories would affect me that way. I cried and cried on the drive home, and I was annoyed about that, too. Why? Why should it still hurt? I don't live there anymore. I don't love him anymore. I don't want him to be a good husband to me anymore.

I explained it all to my therapist and she explained trauma to me. She told me I was having flashbacks, and said that it indicated that I was in a healthy place.

Wait, what?

Apparently, feeling and acknowledging pain is healthy. OH YEAH! Marsha thrives when I don't acknowledge pain, after all.

So, we talked more about trauma, and what happens to our neurons during certain experiences which makes those experiences traumatic, and we talked more about pain. And I began to understand.

I'm still going to explore this more. I want to understand why God made us humans this way. I want to know what is the purpose in making our brains so that they experience trauma, and pain of an event or events years after they occurred. Because, He did that on purpose. He made our brains work that way for a reason, and I want to find the spiritual reason behind my trauma, and my pain.

I said, "But if I get my finger burned 7 years ago in a park at night, it wouldn't still hurt." and she said, "But, if someone held an iron to your skin and it burned through all the layers of your skin, through all your nerves, your skin might heal, but you'd have scars and nerve damage for maybe the rest of your life. And would you say to someone with that kind of wound, 'you shouldn't still feel that?'"

Well, no. Oh.

Then she suggested we visit those swings. What were my thoughts on those swings? What were the lies that I were believing as truths while I sat on the swing at the park at midnight? What were the lies my husband was telling me by his behavior toward me? I gave her a list.

• I'm not good enough
• Not a good enough mom
• Not a good enough wife
• A burden on my husband
• Stuck with my husband because I chose him
• Not worth an apology
• Not worth respect
• Worthless
• Not worth being heard

That's a portion of the list. And do you know what she did? She said, "What would you do if someone told your daughter, 'You're not good enough. You're nothing but a burden. You're not worth apologizing to. I'm stuck with you now, so you have to do all the things I want.  You're worthless.'?" Well, I instantly became furious at the very idea of someone telling my sweet daughter those awful lies. I was angry beyond description at the hypothetical loser telling my daughter those horrible things. I told her, with tearful eyes, "I would be so angry at whoever would tell my child that. And I would take my daughter to a safe place and tell her truths."

How I would so desperately try to undo the lies she'd been told! How I would enfold her and guide her to a safe and quiet room, and tell the truths about her, and tell her that the things she was told were not about her at all, but about the person saying them. 

And my therapist repeated softly, "I would take her to a safe place and tell her truths." And it hit me then that there were truths -- are truths -- to my ex's lies. And not only was he simply wrong, but the very opposite were truths! I was worth respect. I was worth an apology! I was not a burden on my husband, but a blessing to him. Not worthless; priceless. 

What if I'd known then? What if I could go to the me on the swings in the night and tell her truths? Is my worth any less than the worth of my daughter? Does God love me any less than I love my daughter? Impossible. He is God. I am mortal and have a finite vision. And you know what? I can take my own self to a safe place, and listen to Him tell me truths. And He will. He will because I am His daughter, and He created me to have pain and trauma, so He knows about my pain and trauma, and He can heal me. He wants to. He wants to heal me with His truths- the truths about me.

Now, as addicts, we tend to easily believe the lies. We believe we're not worth it. I mean, we really, legitimately believe that, don't we? We believe it so much that we know it to be true! Most especially in our most active times of indulging in our addictions. And our addictions, and our ease in "allowing" them, reinforce what we think we know to be true. In our darkest addicted points, we can see no other possibility of truth, can we? Just like when I look back to the me-on-the-swings, I remember that I just couldn't have even begun to believe that it was my husband who was wrong, not me. I couldn't have begun to believe that I had worth in that marriage or worth at all. 

I think we could all benefit, friends, from going to our me-on-the-swings (and don't we all have one?), and leading her or him to a safe place, and telling her or him truths. Telling her or him the truths that God tells us. As addicts, most (all, I think) of us have several moments in our pasts with people who were supposed to love us, who maybe even did love us, but who taught us and reinforced to us that we are worthless. 

It was a lie. It is a lie created by Satan. Don't you believe it! Oh, go back to your swing-self and tell him or her right there that it is a lie! And that you don't have to believe it anymore. Go back to those times and give yourself permission to identify those things as lies, and then also tell yourself the truths. We wouldn't be addicts if we weren't running from stuff and hiding. Turns out the things we run from are all lies. "I can't do that." lie. "It's too hard." lie. "I'm worthless." lie. "God doesn't care about me." lie. "No one cares about me." lie. "I can't do anything right." "I am a horrible person." "I don't deserve to live." "What's the point? I'm not good enough." Lies, lies, lies! "I can't do this by myself." Well, that's true, but not in the way we tell it to ourselves.

How interesting that addiction is all based on lies. I think that's true. My addiction is fed by and sustained by lies. If I believed the truths all the time, I would be free all the time. 

John 8:32-- And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.