Recently in Healing Category

Last week was our family vacation to the beach. I had mixed feelings about going. One of the reasons was that I had been "off the healing track" for months and felt like I was just getting things back on track in the couple weeks leading up to the trip. I did not want to upset that. Another, is that these days I find it almost impossible to sleep away from home without huge difficulties. But, I also saw the trip as an opportunity to have well-deserved together time with my wife and girls away from the daily routine.

The trip was precisely the mixed bag I had anticipated. Every night I had nightmares or very weird dreams (something I had not experienced for a long time). My Healing Guide (therapist) was, for the most part, "out of sight, out of mind." And I flirted with what I guess was denial, wondering what I could possibly have to heal from or why it wasn't over with already? That was not really a bad thing. We all need a vacation from work or from our troubles. During the days, I was quite engaged with the family and had virtually zero difficulties. We played paddleball on the beach, made sand castles, got a tan, played harmonica, and cooked lobster. So, by any measure, it was a success.

When I came home, though, the vacation meant almost nothing. The experience was lost. Even though I have the pictures, they very much have a "newspaper" feel to them.

Then, yesterday, I realized that I was in "robot mode." I was not really connected internally in any meaningful way. I was "off the track," which was something I wanted to avoid. I know that is not good. It puts me at risk. It means that I am more vulnerable to triggers. I am more apt to deal with things in a more fragmented way. My safety becomes jeopardized.

Funny how that happens, huh? Vacations are meant to recharge you so you can resume life with renewed vigor. That like never happens for me! I know this is not the first time dealing with this vacation issue. In June, I wrote Is This a Vacation or Allowing? where I thought I was taking what I thought was a "healthy" internal vacation, but it was not good for me. Last October, after being completely functional while my wife went away on her own vacation, I had a huge collapse that I wrote about in The Boat is Sinking or Is There Even a Boat?

Maybe part of the problem, if you want to call it that, is that we came back from vacation to some big changes. This week is the unofficial start to Fall. And I recently discovered I have an aversion to seasonal changes. The kids started school today. And work officially "ramps up" now for me, as I am on an academic calendar.

I know I have to find my equilibrium. I just get so disoriented so easily it seems. I will try to take it easy on myself. I will try to shift things away from fragmentation. I will try to get on the track again. I know the types of things that I can do to help. They entail checking-in internally, journaling, not throwing myself completely into work.

It is all about balance you know. Of course, those of us who dissociate, know that balance is difficult to achieve. I usually say it is difficult because we are trying to do it while riding a unicycle on a tightrope, backwards, blindfolded, chewing gum, in hundred mile hour winds. But the funny thing is that we can actually do it!

In Trauma and Sexuality, I wrote about sexual healing being a taboo subject in both the literature and in therapy. Nobody wants to talk about it. Yet it is one of the main areas where childhood sex abuse victims were damaged. It is my contention that since the problem is not addressed directly in the literature and in therapy, we discuss the issues tied to sex in an unconsciously masked kind of way. We can talk about being hurt sexually and what was done to us (and think we are talking about sex directly). About being suicidal. Depressed. Triggered. Switchy. And on and on.

But, while all important, these are symptoms of what is a core issue in the present. What is our relationship right now to sex? How is sex in the present dysfunctional? How is sex in the present hurting us? Helping us? Recreating? Overcoming? And how do all these questions about the present relate to the past?

I understand, I think, the essential barriers to talking about sex, even in the "safe" confines of the therapy office. For those of us sexually abused as children, our lives were generally focused on hiding the fact that we were being hurt in that specific a way. It should not be hard to appreciate that this is fertile ground for creating shame and guilt; stains on our soul which stay with us through adulthood and whose purpose seems to be only to deny us from seeking healing (or even thinking we are worthy enough to heal).

Not to mention those of us who were sexually abused were generally taught (we call them "rules") to behave a certain way in dealing with sex, through a number of manipulative means. As with any kind of learning, neuronal circuits are formed. Sex abuse ties in with reward, pleasure and fear circuits in the brain moderated by powerful neurotransmitters like dopamine. Literally, there is an imprint on our brains. These imprints are terribly difficult to heal from. But we can heal from them if we deal with them directly instead of dancing around the perimeter.

I contend that the first step in sexual healing is acknowledging the original sexual injury. The second step is being able to break down some of the guilt and shame barriers to talking about the subject. But there is more.

Obviously, each of us were affected in different ways sexually. Some of us become hyposexual and just run away from sex. Some of us become hypersexual. Neither of these extremes is necessarily bad as long as you are comfortable in them. But many are not comfortable with who they are sexually and simply do not know who they are sexually.

To further complicate matters, some of us use sex to recreate abuses, whether it be through fantasy or in real-life, though I do believe there is a marked difference between the two. In the literature, re-enactment (generally referred to as real-life) is a more commonly discussed sexual outcome. In these situations, we are continuing the cycle of abuse by placing ourselves in harmful psychological or physical situations (and, yes, even if in fantasy).

It can be understood in terms of neuronal imprints and in terms of being a way to manage overwhelming feelings. I believe it is probably likely that the degree of sexual re-enactment is correlated with degree of dissociation. With dissociative identities, parts were created for specific purposes and roles which are harder to move out of. Further, it is easier to realize how sex re-enactment solves certain problems (like being able to tolerate overwhelming feelings of "parts" of us) while isolating other parts of us (who are traumatized by the present-day behavior).

Those are explanations and not excuses. Since, in most cases, the original abuse is not happening anymore, we are responsible for our behavior. In this case, I think it is most aptly labeled as self-abuse behavior.

When one is able to label one's own re-enacting sex as self-abuse, then the third, perhaps the most important, step in beginning to achieve sexual healing is reached. We can achieve this only when we realize that the "positive" effects of recreating sex are dwarfed by the negative effects. And this takes a good deal of self-awareness and brutal internal honesty.

If we keep these three steps in mind—acknowledging original injury, overcoming guilt and shame, and labeling re-enactment as self-abuse—then we are making a great effort to heal. The prognosis, I think, is good.

While sexual healing may seem daunting, the good news is that once you have achieved all three steps, there is no going back. Yes, there are "setbacks", but once you gain awareness, you cannot lose it, you can only temporarily misplace it.

A huge disclaimer here goes without saying: I am not an expert. This post is based on my personal experiences and interactions with other survivors over the past 20 years. It is not meant to be a comprehensive, or even necessarily scalable view on the sexual effects of abuse. I think there is a good chance it may be quite scalable. But I do not pretend to assert that as fact.

How society views child abuse has changed dramatically over the years. In the 70s and before, there was nearly complete denial, a virtual "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. In the 80s, reports of abuse shot up in frequency, the pendulum swung in the other direction and survivors were often validated. In the 90s, there was an appreciation that memories are malleable and some cases called into question the whole abuse "movement." Survivors, as well as the mental health community, were put on the defensive. Consequently, it was unpopular to be a survivor in the 90s.

In the past decade, we have reached a sort of middle ground. While a final destination has not been achieved, there is momentum. In which direction are we moving? Are we moving in a direction that tends to help or hurt children? What about survivors? I think these are questions whose answers are outstanding.

The pessimistic view is that while children are technically protected by a slew of laws and safeguards, things may not really be that different now. Only time will tell, of course.

Yes, children are taught about safety in school. There is mandatory reporting. On the whole, those are good. But I do believe that one of the consequences of mandatory reporting is that child protection agencies are overworked and understaffed. As a result, judgment calls need to be made, and who falls through the cracks? Like many well meaning responses, we may not be giving the effort enough of a priority.

Another contributor, which effects survivors negatively, is that I believe collective societal denial is still as strong as ever. In my own hometown in 2007, as an example, there was a public case of child sexual abuse at a gymnastics school. Many young women came forward telling of abuse from a decade or more ago; their stories were consistent. There was also a visual confirmation of physical abuse in the present day. When the case hit the press, the reaction from many (but certainly not all) of the gym parents was: "Not true. They are lying. He's such a nice guy. It's all misinterpreted and taken out of context." What was most distressing was that the ones who were closest to the situation were most in denial!

For me, this was a tipping point in my healing journey. I suddenly broke my silence and spoke up publicly. I came out of the shadows. And learned that to heal you cannot be in the shadows. I learned that to heal, you have to validate your own experiences, else you will be continually seduced by denial.

I was not an activist. I simply wrote a letter in our local paper, stood up for the victims and said that I understood the pain that comes from child abuse. And I was not as shy to bring up the scandal when I talked in public. For this, I got a whole spectrum of responses from hate mail to support.

I learned that there are basically two sets of people when it comes to child abuse. One with their eyes open and one with their eyes closed. For me, this helped me appreciate why we are at a crossroads now in our society.

We can only hope that more and more people are having their eyes opened. That the momentum is in the direction of increasing protection of children. And further, for those who are not protected, that the barriers to healing are not as high.

We can do our part, too. I am not narcissistic enough to think that my speaking up here will change the world. But I do believe that the more of us there are speaking the truth in whatever way we are most comfortable, the more we can help push things in the right direction.

When we keep our eyes open, when we seek healing, when we validate our experiences and the effects of our experiences, then we are unquestionably making a positive difference.

This post was partly written in response to the discussions in a recent post titled Pediatric Symptom Checklist.

Independence and dependence come with the territory of us as social beings. But as with many of life's properties, they exist in delicate balance. When we are very young, we long for a parent's care. Yet, it is in our biological makeup to seek independence as we grow older. And we all very quickly learn that there really is no such thing as unfettered freedom.

This is why boundaries exist seemingly wherever we look. Oftentimes we are not even aware of them since we are usually taught them from so young. Boundaries are the necessary "checks and balances" we learn if we receive a proper upbringing. The society we live in imposes a set of boundaries we generally must adhere to. Parents are supposed to teach us many of the other necessary boundaries. In doing so, they instill in us a moral compass. They are supposed to model good behavior. They are supposed to teach us how to properly treat others. They are supposed to correct our bad behavior and reward our good behavior.

If parents are smart, and we know many are not, they understand that boundaries are connected to independence when raising children. Being mature adults, they help us navigate these delicate waters by granting us increasing levels of independence while at the same supporting us in areas where we need it most. In this way, they help us develop awareness.

Even in the best of cases this is all hugely difficult. It is not easy for kids and it is not easy for parents. If you are a child that is being abused, the task becomes nearly impossible because the rules of the game are different for the abused child. Boundaries have new meanings. Needs (a measure of dependence) are unmet in various ways and to varying degrees.

I was not abused by my parents, not in the least. Being the oldest child, I was assuredly the most "over-protected." I seemed to be the last person in my neighborhood to be allowed to cross the street alone. My mother was, and still is, perpetually worried about safety and health. I think, for me, that I was somewhat smothered for a long while and was not able to practice the boundaries I was being taught by being granted any measure of independence.

For me, personally, as I was being abused over the course of many years, I was hugely conflicted. I was taught good behavior. But somewhere I must have known that the abuse was not good behavior. Given that much of my abuse happened in the context of religion, there were layers and layers of conflicts. It is no wonder, when you think about it, how parts of a child end up being stuck in the past. Frozen in time. In this way, dissociation makes complete sense.

Everything was conflicting because as I was granted independence, it meant I was more available to be hurt. And part of me longed for dependence and safety. I wanted my parents to save me, yet I could not form the words to say clearly what I was going through. I acted out. But was so dissociated that when asked what was going on, I believed the made up answer I gave them.

I ended up taking the hard route to learning about independence and dependence. In college, I used my independence and freedom from my abuser to act out and lead a somewhat reckless existence. Right out of college I got married. But it was a co-dependent relationship and did not last.

Then came the hard early 90s years. I worked on myself long enough in therapy to understand some of what was going on inside. That budding awareness led to some healthy attachments. When I got married to the mother of my children in 1997, things started to fall into place. When we had children, I somehow learned (I think through osmosis) how to properly raise children and strike the important balance between independence and dependence. I learned that the dependence children most need is emotional. They need parents to listen to them. Really listen.

I am still very much learning boundaries I was supposed to learn long ago. I am still mourning that I did not have aware parents. I am still mourning that I had to be independent in a dysfunctional way. I am still mourning that my needs for dependence were not met.

But the most cherished independence of all is one that we already have: the freedom to heal.

This post was specifically written for the July 2010 Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse with this month's theme being "independence."

Over a year ago, I began writing here, and trying to come to terms with, what dissociative identity disorder (DID) means, see related posts below. I have talked about the reality of dissociative identities. I have also talked about survivors being careful not to think it only means specialness, about there being a time and a place for using the dissociative language, and about personal responsibility.

In Dissociative Identities and Healing, I wrote that holding onto dual views of dissociation, both being an ingenious coping strategy as a child and a disorder as an adult, is a necessary step in healing. My case was simple: that one will not be motivated to change unless he or she sees that what has helped in the past is hurting in the present. I still stand by that basic stance.

However, I would like to shed some new light on that view. Sure, one can say that dissociative identity disorder (or any of the dissociative disorders) or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are indeed disorders, a term that is used synonymously with mental illness and disease.

But, I offer a few different views, which have helped me, and which you may appreciate.

The first is that the term disorder is not as bad as one may think. Creativity is most often associated with being able to "think outside the box." The proverbial box is all about order. This one helps me a lot. But there is a big caveat. As long as you do not think this means dissociation is only helpful in the present, you can be okay with this. I am just pointing out that not all disorder is bad and putting disorder in context.

If that does not make you feel more comfortable, then consider the thermodynamic quantity of entropy, which is crudely thought of as a measure of disorder in a physical system. All physical systems have a measure of physical disorder and zero entropy can only be achieved at absolute zero, which can only theoretically be achieved. This one helps me a lot, but you may not like science as much as I do.

One arrives at perhaps the "trump card" view by accepting that dissociative coping as children is a common reaction to a physical, emotional or sexual assault. In that sense, all manifestations of dissociative coping and post-trauma stress could be easily viewed as an injury. In sexual abuse lawsuits or criminal suits, the language is all about injury. Injury is often defined as damage done to the structure or function of the body by an outside force. For me, this could not be more valid and this is the view I hold onto most often.

Hold onto any view of dissociation or post-traumatic stress that feels right to you. But it is important to make sure you do not use a more palatable view that serves to provide a reason to put a stop to your healing journey. Whether you call what you live with a disorder or an injury, we must all call upon ourselves to heal. To find peace. To find wellness.

Related Posts:

• Does Dissociation Make Us Special? (June 2009)

• Is Dissociative Identity Disorder Real? (January 2010)

• Dissociative Identities and Healing (March 2010)

In Is This a Vacation or Allowing?, I see I painted a certain picture which was not totally accurate.

In my defense, I believed what I wrote last week to be entirely true at the time. But, just a couple days later I seriously self-harmed.

I saw the warning signs. I knew I was not engaged enough or paying attention enough on the inside. But, I convinced myself I was doing things differently, that I was achieving the always sought after internal balance. I said I was being a hands-off CEO, but still "driving," to use a favorite term of "My Healing Guide".

I do believe that there is a lot of truth in what I wrote. Not micromanaging my entire system is unquestionably a good thing. Allowing myself to engage in soothing activities, like my landscaping project, and rekindle past interests, like playing the trumpet, are also positives. But I allowed what was going right to overshadow what was going wrong.

I am going to use what has happened as a learning opportunity. One solution, a natural and familiar one, would be to swing the pendulum and assert full control. I think I learned, though, and this is new for me, that such a solution does not allow adequate expression of parts of me. If I assert full control, I will achieve the same negative outcome as if I am completely disengaged. To be disengaged leads to parts utilizing dysfunctional coping. To be controlling leads to my being an enemy of many inside. Self-harm is the typical result for both solutions.

This is all about balance. I am convinced it is the key to everything, but I have almost come to think of it as a four letter word.

The concept of a really great CEO, in the truest sense, is all about balance. I am determined to do it better this time. I do not have to go back to the drawing board or give up. Instead, what I am going to do is just make some small adjustments. I should continue to do many of the same positive things I was doing last week.

But the adjustments must come by increasing my level of engagement. I have to be more mindful and pay more attention. I need to document feelings. I need to keep my eye on the ball and be a little more hands-on.

In short, I think it means I am not able to have a vacation. Maybe next time I will just call it a short break.

I will publish the first Expressive Arts Carnival this Thursday. This means if you have been meaning to submit, but have not yet, there is still time. I will need your submission by Thursday 9AM EST. So far I have 6 wonderful entries. Send submissions to paul@mindparts.org.

My last real post was a month ago from the hospital when there was a huge internal reordering (see: This is Change). In the month since, I have been on a virtual vacation. I have been somewhat disengaged from therapy and somewhat disengaged from paying attention on the inside.

I have seen this before. When I am disengaged in this way, it usually means I am also functional. But it also means I am less safe from self-harm. And then eventually I land myself in the hospital. I understand it all in the following way. When I am not actively paying attention and attending to what is going on inside, this does not really address the internal needs. There is then usually a push-back and acting out, which can sometimes become dangerous.

I seem to be striking a balance, though, this time. I am disengaged, clearly, by some measures. But also engaged enough to keep myself safe.

I liken it to a hands-off chief executive (or coach, driver or whatever metaphor you want to use). Before my "vacation", I was a very hands-on CEO, which drained my energy and wore me out. Now, I am allowing everyone in my system to be themselves without me being so involved in the nitty gritty of day-to-day functioning. That requires trust.

That is a crucial aspect of the vacation, which makes me not even want to call it that at all. I, as the CEO, am not gone. For a long time, I have been regularly challenged by "My Healing Guide" to allow. What she means by that is to allow parts to have a voice and to be themselves. I think there has been a general consensus, internally and externally, that I am too controlling. I have been "micromanaging" for a long time now and I cannot do that forever.

The way things are now carries risks. It would be perfectly fine if parts were all self-sufficient and everything they did was safe and healthy for the rest of the system. But it is not that way. There have been internal threats to safety and struggles with eating. But no more so than when I was micromanaging. In fact, I almost think that the micromanaging made things worse.

Throughout all of this, boundaries are in place. Lines that cannot be crossed. Since these have held firm, I do not see any need right not to change things.

I am not even sure if it is within my power to do so.

It is like my system is relaxed a bit to a place that is more natural. And, on the flip side of the negatives, are very clear positives. For one thing, there is a life to live and that is happening. I have more time with my kids and family. I am outdoors working in the yard (doing a rather large landscaping project right now). I have been making photographs again. I have taken walks. I picked up the trumpet after nearly 30 years and it sounds quite good.

I think all of this is directly related to the internal changes that happened in the hospital last month. My system is in flux now. And it appears that the parts who are most active now are the ones who were the most quiet before. The changes were so dramatic that it is natural for me, and probably required, to take a step back and trusting that parts will reorder on their own terms.

So now you know what I have been quiet and not reading others' blogs or e-mailing those of you I normally keep in touch with. Please do not take it personally. I am just using my time differently for the time being.

I will publish the Expressive Arts Carnival in the coming days. If you want to submit, please send to paul@mindparts.org. The first edition, Summer 2010, of Trauma Recovery Highlights will most likely be published in July.

In my last post titled Inside from the other day, I wrote about how the Art Therapy work I did with My Healing Guide last week in the hospital helped us reconnect in a way that had been sorely lacking for a while.

That disconnection was really not the fault of either of us. I realize the whole post was meant to tell a story that led to an optimistic outcome of reconnection. That post, however, did not represent the complete picture. While the result of that process was one of reconnection to the healing path, that connection did not at all stick. Dissociation and inability to ground (as well as basic necessities like eating and sleeping) were constant battles.

Partly, the drivers that led to the disconnection in the first place were due to the fact that we had been through a really intense and emotional period of six months, most of which was documented here. In December, our system came together to create a Contract (which we also call our "Statements of Truth"). In March, My Healing Guide and I made a visit to the church where a lot of childhood abuse happened. This helped us deal with Easter in a more holistic manner, even though I spent that time in the hospital. There was also the worldwide Catholic Church scandal as well as a family crisis thrown into the mix.

On Monday morning in Art Therapy, the directive was to draw our relationship to treatment. As you can see from the image above, I felt quite split about that question. On one side, I felt as through there was this sense of blending of colors and views, held within a container of grounding brown. But on the other, there was pure black chaos. The two sides felt completely separate.

Fortunately, sometimes such tension can be a good thing because something had to give. The crux of my problem has been that there is a part of me, a seriously self-harming part, who has seemingly not been in any sort of alliance with the healing journey we have been on for the past couple years. I recently realized that the more progress we made on healing, the more this part was left out. I also realized that my words saying that I was open to meeting this part halfway were not really coming from a place of true meaning.

Well, all that changed, quickly and dramatically.

On Monday evening, I wrote a multi-page letter to this part ending in directed questions meant to learn more and open the door of collaboration and inclusion. On Tuesday morning, I discovered there had been several text messages sent from this part to My Healing Guide during the previous night.

On Tuesday afternoon, this part came out and met with My Healing Guide for most of our session. So much happened. Many perceptions were completely shattered. Amongst many other revelations, this part declared she was not evil like we all thought, but rather a hurt child. She wanted to be part of the healing.

Tuesday night I tried to write down what I remembered from the session. Clearly something enormous happened. That evening there was all kinds of internal chatter about what all of this meant. Many parts did not trust that she could be brought into our healing circle. Many saw it as some elaborate trick just to get out of the hospital. Some saw it simply as not being real.

Wednesday was spent trying to rest and regain strength, and have this huge change settle in our system a bit. That has continued through today. The aftershocks have been large. The chatter has persisted, as well as the doubt, and some parts are still very scared.

But there are signs of trust.

In Art Therapy today, the directive of "draw a nest" led to a very clear image, all done in charcoal. Balanced in the nest were circles representing parts coming out of the nest much the same as depicted in Towards a Model of Dissociation. But it was clear where the "new" part was. She was the furthest away from the nest, but still connected to all the rest.

Tomorrow, I will leave the hospital. Despite all the recent huge changes, which I could equate to an earthquake, I feel like I am finally on solid ground.

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One of the major obstacles facing me is that I have felt like I am not on the same healing path I have been on for the past two years. There are several reasons for this, some my own doing, and some external to me.

What do you do when you feel like you are not on the path? I have been struggling with this question for a while. For me, the time in the hospital has provided me with enough distance from normal life to effect a change and to let it stick.

The other day, My Healing Guide and I did a piece of work together in the hospital, meant to help us realign with each other and inside. It was the first time in a long time that I stepped out of my head or at least "over to the right" a bit.

The work we did was all about being in the process and experiencing emotions without many of the filters that get in the way. Basically, I trusted that I would be okay with the emotions, and things started to connect as I went along.

I started by choosing important oil pastel colors. Those being red, purple, black, brown, blue, pink and grey. I know what all those mean for me.

Not knowing what to do, I just started drawing blobs of color. At first it was red, blue, then pink. When I got to the pink, I knew they had to be balloons for a younger part of me. So, I started making more of them. And as I expanded the red, I started "feeling" that it should have jagged edges. As I was laying down the purple for another part, I eventually knew I had to somehow get a cross in there. The brown tree is another part. I can speculate that the red is anger or something that feels really big, like it was in my last image.

Adding the black came after all the other elements were in place. I knew I would have to get black in. Then it just came to me that the black would sort of border everything, providing compartments much like a maze with dead ends. I wanted to have a ground, and I wanted it to be gray. Ground wasn't meant to be the best place (otherwise it would have been green grass).

This piece was extremely emotional for me to do. I cried while blending in the colors at the end. The process of blending in elements already laid down was very important to me. I had the feeling that I didn't have to "do" any more to the image; just that I was allowing everyone inside to "feel" the image by the act of blending. I felt like I was really doing something with and for parts of me in a way that felt very much like what we used to do.

After, I felt that this was my work. I know that the path I have chosen is not only absolutely right and healing, but remarkable and awe inspiring.

From 1948-1975, Walt Kelly was well known for writing comics that were based on social and political satire. One of his main characters, Pogo, is a possum and was the smartest animal in the community of swamp animals that made up the comic strip.

One of Pogo's more famous quotes was "We have met the enemy... and he is us." The quote has its origins in war, but Kelly used it as commentary on how humankind was polluting the planet.

Now I do appreciate that when healing from child abuse, such a statement can rub many the wrong way. To many, the enemy is the abuser. But, for me, I am in a particularly challenging place right now. When dissociative coping massively escalates—and by that I mean dissociated parts become activated, start acting autonomously, and I lose large chunks of time which threatens safety—then I cannot help but come to the conclusion that the enemy is indeed myself.

Dissociative coping, splitting, and creating multiple personalities are all wonderfully adaptive when a child and into adulthood. But, when you have made that commitment to awareness and communication and healing, and then it feels like that has all been taken away, you cannot help but have a negative view about the underlying mechanisms that drive how we live our lives. That is where I am at now. So, I am not a big fan of dissociation right now.

I see myself squarely as the enemy. And I'm not talking about specific parts of me. I am really not out to pick fights with specific parts. I am talking about the "all of me." Right now, I'm having trouble seeing the healing path. I only see confusion as we ever so quickly move away from being a quasi "internal team" and leap into our own corners.

I have a huge fear that this shift in me is not the normal ebb and flow of healing. That it will be a permanent shift (or very long term shift).

Luckily, Pogo has another famous line. And that is: "Don't take life so serious, son, it ain't nohow permanent." Maybe that way of thinking will be able to keep me going.