Deciding to Heal: Side Effects and the First Trigger

Question from a reader: So you just “decide” to heal? (In relationship to dealing with the trauma of childhood sexual abuse and all of its side effects)

My Answer: I’m sure there are different schools of thoughts regarding the process of healing. I can only tell you what worked and is working for me. My methods may do you no good. But perhaps by writing about the process, maybe it can help at least one person dealing with any kind of trauma..whether that be from abuse & assault, grief & loss, sickness, injury & disease or just personal growth & evolution. My process of healing isn’t just tied up in my childhood sexual abuse. In the past I also had a very rocky relationship with my mother, I had unhealthy relationships with men and one too many of my close friends and family members have died.

What was the sickness that I needed healing from? I can’t give you the medical terms for some of the issues I suffered from but I will try to describe them as best I can. I wonder if anyone else can relate?

Depression

Suicidal Thoughts and Attempts

Self-Destructive Tendencies

Control and Manipulation Issues

Paranoia/Anxiety

Trust/Vulnerability/Intimacy Issues

Fear/Shame/Guilt

Mental and Emotional Issues…. ranging from social isolation to a lack of emotional bonding.

Lack of Self-Worth… I felt as if I was poison and had the “damaged goods” syndrome

Alcoholic Issues

Eating Disorder

Insomnia

PTSD

Perhaps this list surprises and shocks you. Or maybe you know me and you’re thinking, I never knew she suffered from depression or PTSD or an eating disorder. The truth is, at some point in my life, I have dealt with all of these issues. Sometimes it may have been just one thing and sometimes it seemed as if all of them were little demons dancing around me. And during college I started losing my mind unbeknownst to most people.

I knew that many of my issues had to do with my childhood…with most of it stemming from the sexual abuse I endured from my ex step father, Elder Daniel Young. Even though I knew it, during most of college I wasn’t ready to deal with what had happened to me. At that point, I hadn’t spoken to anyone freely about my past except for a counselor or two.

Slowly in college, I started talking to trusted friends about my past. And I found that in some ways it helped, but in other ways it was very painful.

A lot of my healing began in “non-healing” ways. Some of the first things happened during my experiences in the theater.

In the theater because we were artist and actors we were forced to always be in tuned with our bodies. I had spent most of my life separating myself from my body.

In the theater we were asked to trust one another, to work on vulnerability, to touch one another. I have spent years avoiding all those things.

We would do these different exercises to work on our scenes and actor craft and I remember there was one…

Mark Lewis asked us thirty students to walk about the room. When we were ready, we were to stop in front of someone, look them in the eye and say, “The Night is Dark. My name is Sheena Young. And I am far from home.” I found one of my closet friends and I said this too her and then I began to cry and that cry turned to sobbing and that sobbing turned to wailing. And that wailing lasted for hours..straight through the rest of the theater class. Straight through dinner. And straight through the rehearsal for the latest play.

A former friend held me the entire time. And when her body couldn’t hold my weight, another friend would hold me and then another. And finally Mark Lewis held me. “Sheena, I want you to know that you are here. You are in Arena Theater. Open your eyes and know that you are here,” he whispered lovingly.

I didn’t know it then but something about that phrase and something about finally looking someone in the eye triggered me. I had never cried for myself like that before. It was as if ALL the pain was finally reached and a damn broke and for hours I had left the present day and I was a child again lying in bed and all I could do was sob and wail. The night was dark and I was far from home.

I did not know it then, but this was the first part to my healing process. Having something trigger the pain to rise to the surface. I had been pushing it down, suppressing it, forgetting it, shoving it away and finally something touched the pain and I sobbed for hours.

Stay Tuned for Part Two.

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