I made a list. Throughout the week I added to it. I knew exactly what I wanted today's session to be about. I was prepared.
It started like normal. We do our quick catch-up: a rundown of the week and check in on my feelings. Somehow we got there - discussing a topic not on my list.
Mind you; I am not closed off in therapy. I welcome the process. Still, today, I released something that I did not realize I was carrying. I know trauma is stored in the body. And, through the tears and breath work, I felt this thing leave my body.
I gave sound and form to a silent asphyxiation.
Someone onced asked, "Where in your body do you carry that?" It's such a valid question. We carry all the things - even if we do not speak or acknowledge them. Our bodies know.
Solange sang:
I tried to drink it away
I tried to put one in the air
I tried to dance it away
I tried to change it with my hair
I ran my credit card bill up
Thought a new dress make it better
I tried to work it away
But that just made me even sadder
I tried to keep myself busy
I ran around circles
Think I made myself dizzy
I slept it away, I sexed it away
I read it away...
I tried to run it away
Thought then my head be feeling clearer
I traveled 70 states
Thought moving 'round make me feel better
I tried to let go my lover
Thought if I was alone then maybe I could recover
To write it away or cry it away...
Like the songstress, I know it doesn't just "go away." It must be released. This morning I did work for the little girl in me and the little humans that may one day come from me.
Last week, my Brotherman shared a reminder that every good gift is from above. For me, therapy is a good gift.
The things we do not talk about, those silent battles and unhealed wounds, are sinister as fuck.
Most of us have heard "the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." I think traumatic experiences have similar chicanery. It's not our jobs to devalue or reduce experiences through comparison. What happened to you is real. What happened to me is real. Even paper cuts hurt and heal.
P.S.:
(1) It is my job to value myself and reject outside evaluations. Maya Angelou said "Don't pick it up; don't lay it down...If I were to pick up one (the compliment), I have to pick up the other (the reproach). And, I still have my work to do!"
(2) My therapist has helped me realize how I hold my breath. She challenges me to breathe. Sometimes, I find it irksome, and box breathing is seriously hard. Still, a reminder to be intentional about breathing is so good.
(3) I wrote a note to Little LeKechia. The bulk of it is much too personal to share, but the ending I am comfortable putting out in the world. The little girl in me deserves my public acknowledgement and thanks.
