I just got back from a therapy session, one of the most intense and powerful of them all. As I type this, my heart is still racing and my hands are still shaking from the meditation exercise Esther guided me in. She seems to think that when problems are brought to the surface by meditation, it is easier to let them go, to let them release from my mind and body and soul. She brought up something so powerful today, something that is always there in the back of my mind, something I don't let myself feel on a regular basis because of what I experienced a few minutes ago.
After a period of deep breathing, she asked me to find something in my soul that caused me distress. Not to try hard to find it--just to concentrate on whatever came up. Immediately, without a thought, I began to envision all the men in my life who've caused me to be afraid of love. I could see their faces and hear their voices, I could remember all of the moments I've been trying so hard to forget.
One by one, they started popping into my head: My grandpa, with his words of ugliness and incompetency. My dad, with his moodiness and violent streaks and how we needed to walk on eggshells to not upset him. Andrew, my first "love", who repeatedly told me he would give any girl a chance, but laughed at the thought of loving me (despite my confessed love to him.) Wil, my old therapist, with whom I'd had a major breakthrough, finally letting down my walls and trusting him, only to hear that he was leaving the office and couldn't be my therapist anymore.
As I sat there, hearing the voices and seeing the faces and reliving moments I so desperately wanted to forget, I could feel my muscles clench and my eyes water. I could feel my brow furrowing itself into a headache. I could feel my heart rate and breath rapidly increase as though I was having a panic attack. I felt confined in my body, as though I couldn't move. As I went on, the voices got louder and the faces got bigger. I was right back in those places I thought I never needed to revisit. All I could think was "get me away from here!" and yet I couldn't leave. I needed to stay and face it and physically push the memories away. It took me a good 20 or so minutes to really relax enough to even talk about my experience.
There are reasons why I can not open up to men and be myself around them. There are reasons why I put up walls and feel uncomfortable. These memories I faced today, and am still facing now, are those reasons. The feelings of incompetency, of abandonment, of trying so hard to please my grandpa and make Andrew love me, all of them spinning in my brain again and coming back to the surface. They need to go. They need to be free so I can let myself trust and love and share with another human being. They need to be let loose so I don't have to be afraid to trust and love and share with myself.
THIS is what I've been waiting for and working towards.
I didn't know it could be this hard, that I'd been suppressing these memories and feelings for so long. I know it is going to continue to be hard work to let all of this go. I want to say that I am 100% ready to take it all on, but I just don't know if I can handle it right now, in the midst of moving to NYC, starting over, going back to school.
But I can do it, because my soul needs me to. And because my soul mate--wherever he may be right now--needs me to.
I am mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. My head still aches from the pressure it was under. I feel the need for a good dinner, a good cry, and maybe a book or movie to take my mind off of everything.
I don't ask for this often, but if you pray, please pray that I will have the strength to let this all go like I need to.