Need to stop and do a quick break down so you can see the progression of the fractures within.
Me, fragmented into Ste - who them himself fractured out into a slew of parts, but we will only be concerned with his part called, Alex.
Alex is key in this story as he held all of my anger. Not just some of it...ALL of it.
I used to be frightened of the anger in me. It seemed to be such a uncontrollable thing that I pushed it far from me. So far in fact I pushed it into Ste, who in turn further pushed it into Alex to keep it locked up and me safe from it.
I was afraid that if I, a mere girl, was in charge of , it would get away from me and hurt someone.
well to be perfectly honest...a lot of someones.
Richard and I discussed that I had compartmentalized my emotions to leave me a calm lake on the surface, but a swirling deep pool of strong under currents.
That wasn't the only thing I compartmentalized. I had/have pockets of missing memories in my head.
That is what a landmind in my head looks like. Yeaah, you don't want to step on any of those, trust me.
Have a clear picture of how messed up I was?
I was a whole new level of fucked up.
Richard looked right past the layers of barbwire and razor wire and reached out his hand to me. I bit it every chance I got.
He knew that anger was the key to healing. As crazy as that may sound to you, its true. For people to heal they need something to fuel the healing process. ANGER is an energy. A powerful fuel that can transform you.
Due to complete lack of privacy as a child I took to coding important things into my personal short hand to hide it. A practice continued into adulthood. The simple task of hunting for and finding my lost anger got boiled down to: ANGRISANNRG.
During the off days of therapy I would write that over and over again on what ever paperwork I was doing at the time. Pondering on the importance of it.
Wondering what would happen if I found the anger with me. What would I do with it?
We talked for weeks about it trying to track down the last time I truly felt anger.
The talk lead back into time and I stepped on what seemed like endless landminds in my head. I ended up bloody and bruised as we sorted thought them one by one. Each time we tore off a festering mental scab on my soul, and applied antibiotics to the wound and healed it, I would get more and more afraid. Each step brought me closer and closer to the anger.
I could feel it.
It felt dangerous and uncontrollable.
During this process the part of me I call Ste, stepped aside. He knew I was hunting Alex, as he held the anger.
When the hunt for the anger dead ended at Alex's feet, we still didn't realize I was dissociated to a point that I was fragmented. I had been living so long with a fragmented soul that I didn't realize that isn't the way one is suppose to be.
Richard and I went after reconnecting me with the anger.
He suggested visualizing the hidden emotions being sealed in jars on a fence post and when I was ready, to shoot them and set them free. I liked that imagery. We didn't really expect any sudden return of my emotions, just rather a tangible confirmation that I was ready for them to come back.
We were also working on this in hypnotherapy.
It was tag team therapy, where one session let up the other picked up. We went after Alex and the anger.
I visualized the healing journey as a climb out of a dark, deep pit. I climbed out and stood like a weak tree on the edge of the pit. I wouldn't have taken much to push me back in. So I visualized my feet becoming roots. An anchor to keep me from falling....AND jumping back into the darkness of the depression.
Alex kept climbing on my back and trying to get me to return to the pit. He was frightened that I might somehow heal him. I used all my healthy coping skills and remained neutral and calm. He was always behind me, much like a heavy presence of impending danger.
See my roots...see my left hand? that is the finger position that says to me..."Peace...calmness...control."
The hypnotherapists didn't want me to confront Alex/seek to find the bottom of the anger/turn to face him without them being there. So when we were ready we had a session where the intent was to confront him.
Under hypnosis and safe in their office I uncurled my hands and turned and confronted Alex. I was ready to face him. I was in control and grounded and hell bent on doing this. I originally thought I would turn around and beat the crap out of him for scaring me.
He was standing there in jeans and his "KILL ME" t-shirt, holding his knife with his customary sneer on his tan face.
I raised my hand to strike him and fight him for my anger. I heard one of the hypnotherapist softly remind me to offer a non-combative suggestion to opening up conversations with him.
My hand froze in space. I reached up and crossed out the KILL on his shirt and wrote "help" under it.
I thought it would piss him off and make him throw the first blow.
To my surprise, he staggered back and gasped and dropped the knife and tears welled up in his eyes and he started bawling.
I will never forget the look on his face.
Because it was on my face as I jerked up and out of the hypnotic state and found my self looking at the mirror on the door.
(continued)
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