Past Trauma

 Most of you who read my stuff know that I've hired a more holistic doctor on the side of my regular medical doctors. Her name is Megan, and she's about healing the whole body, not just the cancer. In her approach, she tries to heal the rest of you so that your body is able to fight off and theoretically get your body to go into spontaneous remission.

 

Before I hired her, I read lots of good reviews on her and have done some research into spontaneous remission, natural cures, and just other treatments to see what's out there. In my brain, it makes sense to heal all of you because there's something going haywire in the body for cancer to start and grow. Like anything else, it needs to be fed, it needs a reason to live and to thrive in the body just like a cold/virus/bacteria or even your normal cells.

 

I like Megan, she's nice enough and well educated. I like that she shares her own experiences in life and is personable. She does a number of things with me. She provides educational videos that she herself creates explaining cancer in a number of ways, a list of supplements your body needs to help ward off cancer, and also deals with past trauma.

 

Megan says that most people with cancer are the "care-takers." You know those people, they're the ones that typically do too much and kind of run the ship at home, or bite off more than they can chew, and are maybe even a bit "up-tight." She also says that most people with cancer are those that have some big emotional trauma in their life that they haven't gotten over and haven't forgiven.

 

The thing that I like best that she does is the counseling sessions. I know from my life I have a lot of unresolved emotional baggage. She works hard with me doing "memory therapy" where we talk about and take damaging memories and try to rework them.

 

Those of you that know me personally, somewhat know my story. It's too long and complicated to fully get into now but I'll try to dip you into a bit. My step-mom was a sociopath if there ever was one. She would manipulate her way into getting anything she wanted. Growing up she drove wedges between me and others (along with other family members). As an example, she hated my real mother. So, if my mom would call the house and she (step-mom) would hand me the phone and I took the phone, afterward, I'd get screamed at for hours about how horrible of a person I was. I was a whore, a stupid kid who no one liked and why would they if I was a whore, right? BUT, if I took the phone and hung up on my mother without talking to her, my step-mom would laugh and praise me. So, I quickly learned to save myself by hurting my own mom.

 

Megan took that memory and had me go back into it and have my younger self (you could also imagine your adult self helping your younger self) stand up and say/do what I wished I had done at the moment. Eventually, the goal is to forgive your aggressor and in the end, yourself.

 

Another memory we are still working on is one that I didn't realize even bothered me so badly. I was about twelve years old, she was screaming at me for being a whore "just like my mother" she'd say. I was crying on the couch at our old house. She was yelling at me to answer her. I finally said through tears, "yeah, she is a whore." I felt so confused. Were the things she was saying true? Was my mom that way? Did my mom really not love me? Did my mom really not want me? I began to cry harder and harder. My step-mom walked over to me and kind of patted me on the back, finally getting what she wanted out of me. An almost like "good job" and simultaneously "there there, don't cry" pat on the back. I leaned over and hugged her around the waist. It was obvious it took her back a bit as I'd never so much as given her a high-five let alone a hug.

 

Through tears and gasping for breath, I said, "can't you just be my mom?" I felt her body almost stiffen. She was silent for a moment, then kind of pulled herself from my grasp, she leaned down and looked me in the face and said, "I would never want to be your mother."

 

All I can say is the sting of that moment broke something inside me. At the time, I had two mother figures in my life, and neither wanted to be my mother. What was wrong with me? Why was I so unlovable? Why did I have to be the way I was?

 

I immediately recoiled into myself on the couch. She walked away and sat on the other couch. I quietly and unintentionally whispered, "why?" Hot tears now silently rolling down my flushed cheeks. She looked straight ahead at the TV and said, "because if I raised you, you wouldn't be this way."

 

I pulled my knees to my chest and sobbed silently. I felt disgusting, dirty. My mind was whirling with "why's." I couldn't understand why I was horrible. I kind of decided right there that no one was going to know me. The real me anymore. Because the real me was bad. Around this time was when I started wearing all black and looking different. Though I genuinely did like that style, I also used it as a way to shield myself. Only the people that were kind enough to see past that would get to know who I truly was. It was like an indicator of whether the person was a good person or a bad person. Only a good person was going to see past my appearance. I learned most people, were not good. Most saw my appearance and made fun of me, mocked me, degraded me, all because I wore black and looked weird. The few good people (some I still have in my life today) were the ones who saw my shield and even though they didn't understand it, accepted it without a word. They didn't care what I looked like. They cared about my heart, my humor, my willingness to help others and laugh a lot.

 

If I hadn't found that band of misfits I don't know where my life would be. They never questioned my appearance. They laughed with me, tried hard to help me through my home life, and were there for a lot of dark times. The only part they didn't understand and probably still don't to this day, is when I started "cutting" or hurting myself. I never really did it where people could see, I didn't want that kind of attention but when the mental abuse at home became too much I needed a release. Physical pain was something I could handle, mental pain was not. That's the only reason I did it, not for attention, not to kill myself, but if I hurt myself physically, I focused on that and not the words she spits at me every day.

 

The second I walked into the house every day, she'd do all she could to break me. I did all I could to not let it show that it bothered me. I began to have a stone face while she screamed then I'd retreat to my room and burn, cut, or injure myself while I cried out all the toxic shit she told me I was. I felt so alone and so unloved. I felt like everything she said was true. No one loved me, no one would save me. I'd throw my life away and be a waste of space to society. I was an obligation, a nuisance to everyone in my life.

 

There's a lot more that I won't get into as it's not important but Megan has been working with me to overcome some of these past traumas. This last memory, of my step-mom, telling me she wouldn't ever want to be my mother, I'm kind of stuck on. I can't seem to move past it and forgive her. Nor myself. So we will continue to work on that one.

 

Most of the other memories we've worked on have gone over well. This one and one other involving my dad and a vow I made at the moment to never trust again are the two I'm hung up and can't seem to move past. I hope in the end I'm able to let them go and free myself from these stupid chains. I haven't seen her or my dad since I moved out in 2006 so I just want to let it go. I want it out of my life, my head, and my heart.

 

I truly do think Megan's work is legit. I know most people don't see healing one's whole self as a means to a cure. To me though, it makes sense. And in the end, even if it doesn't work, what's wrong with feeling better about me and my life? I might as well try to live my best life and be my best self while I'm here so I feel either way it's a win-win. I'm glad I found Megan. I'm glad she made me look back at my life and address the things that may be still hinder me to this day.

 

I'm excited to see what she can help me do. I think if I'm willing to put in the work (which isn't easy, it's very hard visiting those dark places in my life) I think she can help me achieve great things.