Time Heals All Wounds

For the longest time I didn’t believe that time would heal my wounds, physical or emotional/psychological. It’s been 11 years since the abuse ended, literally half my life has been lived without being raped or beaten. More importantly, half my life has been lived with experiences that were more positive and more recent, helping me to get to where I am now.

I no longer think I meet the criteria for PTSD, and that’s something I thought I’d never be rid of. I no longer have flashbacks or nightmares. Don’t get me wrong, certain things still bring up the memories and sometimes I dream about what happened, but they have a different emotional feel now. They are not scary or threatening, they simple are memories and dreams.

For the first time ever I talked about, not wrote, but talked, about seeing the girl killed in Prague. Hearing about people getting their throat cut not longer sends me into a crying ball of panic. Do I remember seeing the girl killed when I hear about other people getting their throat cut, of course. The thing is, it no longer effects me like it used to. I can remember it happening without feeling like it’s happening right now.

Which brings me to another change, I think I am finally learning how to allow myself to feel. I don’t think I’m nearly as emotional as others, but I think I am more in touch with my feelings than I ever have been in the past. When I cry, which used to almost never happen, I still may not know what exact feeling I’m experiencing (sadness, anger, grief, etc), BUT, I’m crying, which is a step in the right direction.

Time alone hasn’t gotten me here. I had a total of 10 days of intensive outpatient treatment. I went twice, 5 days at a time. Each day consistend of 8 hours of 1-on-1 therapy. The therapy would include talking about what happened, drawing what happened, labeling parts of the traumatic experience, etc. It was exhausting but I think it helped tremendously.

My childhood no longer holds me back from things. I no longer need to sleep with a light on, even though I prefer to. I can go outside at night without panic attacks. I can go down in the basement without dissociating. I am more comfortabe in my own skin and with being noticed by the opposite sex. I no longer worry about random men/women on the street assulting me.

Never did I think I’d be able to talk about some of the things that happened, or be free of flashbacks and nightmares. But I am. Life is completely dfferent without them. I am completely different. I know I will never forget what happened to me and what I saw. It has shaped who I am. I think that from now on, my past won’t be guiding me towards and away from things like it did in the past. I think I’m finally starting to live separate from it.