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How I Managed to Finally Release Emotions Repressed for 50 Years

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JohnnyM53

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I promised many of you I was going to write a bit about a crisis I had a year ago in relation to my adult life long quest to find my feelings, my true self. Here it is.

Because of the length of the story, I will post it in two parts.

WARNING: What follows may sound frightening to some. That said, I survived whatever it was that happened and the event was, in retrospect, a very good thing. I feel better than I ever have. I feel again.

PART 1:
What happened to me a year ago only happened once before, around year 2000. I didn’t know what had happened back then and simply fell asleep and forgot about the event.

And it all came to a head in the summer of 2005. I just couldn’t do it or take it anymore: The anxiety, the traumas, the deep depressions and despair, chronic suicidal ideation and a few attempts, the hypomania, the sleep and concentration problems, life, relationship and work-related stresses – it had all become too much for me and my nervous system - and superhuman I was not.

I went off work and it seemed to take forever to get better. I went back but I just couldn’t cope, and so retired on medical grounds in 2007.

It was probably the first time in my life where I had the least amount of stress. And when I got depressed, I stopped fighting my feelings and just sat there like a veggie until either I figured out the answer or it went away (non-resistance).

Last year, I agreed to do a testimonial at the annual general meeting of a childhood trauma center. Thank goodness I didn’t then. What would have come out of my mouth would have sounded ridiculous. That’s how emotional I was.

Although I’d be fine doing it today (and have offered to do so), something foreign, something very emotional was brewing inside of me for about three months before that. And I didn’t know what it was, nor why it was happening. But I suspect "non resistance", or accepting my full feelings, even if I didn't like them, may have played a role.

My theory as to what led up to the event that I will talk about is as follows:


The energy of emotions associated with experiencing fourteen years of: multiple traumas, witnessing violence frequently, medical traumas, living in intense fear/terror and with extreme anxiety (for a child) that couldn’t be released inside had to go somewhere, as did all the stress caused by the long term “after-effects” of such experiences and brainwashing ie. verbal and emotional abuse.

According to my understanding of what I’ve read, the brain/body unconsciously responds to overwhelming situations differently from one person to the next. Some brain/bodies suppress emotions, some repress them, others compartmentalize neurologically, etc. And the younger one is, the more pronounced it can be because brain formation and psychological development are in early development.

In my case, no matter what or how much thinking, writing and analysis, no matter what book or what therapist I saw, nothing, including trauma and other type workshops, seemed to cure me of the general numbness I felt all my life at my solar plexus.

I was working very hard on my testimonial and it was making me think deeper than usual.

In Judith Herman’s book Trauma and Recovery (1992 - this is at the time C-PTSD was starting to be recognized), she stated that traumas should or must be integrated into the personal history of a victim.

And I was deeply discouraged because my first memory in life was a trauma that occurred when I was, according to my mom, 30 months old, when my dad threw his cup of fresh tea all over my mom’s bare legs. I was sitting next to her and she screamed.

So how could I possibly integrate that, as it was the beginning of my consciously remembered history?

Now, and this is going to sound funny to some, and a lot of people mock Dr. Phil, but he was instrumental in what follows!

He states in his book, Self Matters, “you don’t have to analyze every single event of your past to find your authentic self. It comes down to five to 10 critical people and events for age group 1 to 5, 6 to 10, 11 to 15, etc.

And although I analyzed to death the events in age group 1 to 5, it gnawed at me for years. I kept coming back to it.

To be continued in next post.

Please do not post under this thread until I post Part II, to keep the story flowing.
 
So I asked myself, what was I like at age 4? Answer: I loved everything: playing in puddles; puppies; people; pussycats; coloring; playing in the snow; toys; etc. But I couldn’t feel much of that joy anymore. And if I did, it was probably more of a symptom of hypomania than anything authentic.

So I asked “what else happened? Well, he was beating her again and I ran up on to his chair and held a knife close to his face. I remember I hated him. I wanted to kill him. He was forever criticizing us. We’d sit up straight on the couch, afraid to move, to breathe even, or go pee, because sometimes he’d grab us my our pyjama top, pull us into his face and bark angrily at us. And he had biceps the size of grapefruits.

And I hated my mom because she was abusive to me too. And I punched a kid in Grade One 16 times in the face. So I had a lot of rage. But eventually I couldn’t express it because of the fear at home and of kids at school. I felt that if I did get into a fight, it could mean getting hurt, which conflicted with my medical traumas (intense fear of hospitals, doctors, dentists, needles, and associated smells), so I believe my brain/body repressed most of my anger down first, especially due to these fears.

Now I was raised as a Catholic. And everyone was told to pray to the little Jesus or some saint if we wanted help or something. So I remembered doing so, pleading with him over and over again in my heart to “please, please stop making him hitting my mommy”, or take me away, or something. But no answer ever came.

Now, we were told that you go to sleep on December 24 and Santa will deliver gifts the next morning, and sure enough we’d wake up there were toys were under the tree. Same was true of the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, but not the sand man and the boogey man (phew!). So in my 5 year old mind, my parents always told the truth.

So then I asked myself “what would a child’s reasoning be like in such a case?

Now while I was working on my presentation, I accidentally stumbled on the fact that C-PTSD was a disorder, and when I read it, BINGO! I knew that’s what I had. It’s what I lived!! So I did it! I did what said I would do at age 25 – seek out the truth about me and life with brutal honesty no matter what the answers, as long as it resonated like the truth. And here I had discovered my truth!

So what would I have thought then as a 5 year old?

Well, no wonder Jesus isn’t answering, I’m a bad boy! And where are five year Catholics told where bad people go? To hell! And that explains my recurring nightmare of an old witch waving me down a dark staircase with orange lights blinking from the top to the bottom. “Come on down”, she’d say.

So I was never really sick. I was traumatized, had suffered deep psychological injuries and my whole system got out of whack as a result, I thought.

“Hey wait” I thought! “It’s The Butterfly Effect! The man won a Nobel Prize in Physics for it and he said it also applied to humans!” And eagerly I searched the internet and found it:

  • A famous reference in chaos theory is the following: The flapping of a single butterfly's wing today produces a tiny change in the atmosphere. Over a period of time, what the atmosphere actually does changes from what it would have done. So, in a month's time, a tornado that would have devastated the Indonesian coast doesn't happen. Or maybe one that wasn't going to happen, does. (Ian Stewart, Does God Play Dice? The Mathematics of Chaos, pg. 141)
  • This phenomenon, common to chaos theory, is also known as “sensitive dependence on initial conditions”. Just a small change in the initial conditions can drastically change the long-term behavior of a system.
And now I was singing out loud fully emotional (in other word I was losing it! lmao) and felt what I had felt like when I saw and played in snow as a kid, which to me was magical.

And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks – the feelings I felt as a child weren’t lost. The little boy protected them from harm, just like a flower does in a storm – it folds inwards. Well that was my thinking anyways.

So now I had figured out why I was the way I was. Meanwhile, I was playing the song by by ABBA called I Have a Dream, and some of the lyrics are:
I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail...

I have a dream, a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I was elated!!

And the next day I was even more happier, and in hypomania mode.

But something else was happening…


[Part III (final) to follow]
 
PART III – FINAL
The next day I was super emotional.

And one symptom of C-PTSD is (source Wikipedia):

  • Affect or emotional regulation: poor affect regulation, difficulty identifying and expressing emotions and internal states, and difficulties communicating needs, wants, and wishes"
Something was wrong. I could feel it. I e-mailed and called a trusted friend: Please come over: something is happening.

I couldn’t reach her. I couldn't think. I couldn’t look at my presentation or a self help book. I was exhausted because I hardly slept. I had too much to drink the night before and normally I hardly drink. But it was Christmas soon and I had spent the night before with friends wrapping gifts and was super happy.

It was 7 p.m. but I went to bed. I couldn’t shut my mind or emotions off. I couldn't lay still, tossing and tossing. And the physiological sensation was getting stronger. And stronger.

And I must have remembered the event that happened around year 2000 because I said “Oh no, no, no I can’t go through this again! God please help me!

And now I was out of bed, crying so hard I couldn’t see, holding the phone crying out my sister’s name, then my friend’s name over and over, but I was too messed up to dial.

And I thought I was going to lose it or die right there and then. What was happening was as much physiological as it was emotional and psychological. And it was powerful. The feelings of terror I felt as a child finally came out after some 40 to 50 years of being repressed. In my experience and opinion, it was enough to give someone a heart attack or stroke.

And I don’t remember what happened in the next 20 minutes.

My phone rang. It was my good and trusted friend Walter.

He said, “I know you are not doing well, so just checking up on you.”

[Note: I seem to recall that Judith Herman’s book stated that what seemed to help traumatized Vietnam vets the most was expressing their traumatic memories and feelings orally or in writing.]

And that’s when the words just poured out on their own:

“Oh Walter…Walter…I was so scared. I was so scared. I was scared. That’s all came out for nearly 20 minutes. My friend had given me the greatest gift ever. To bear witness to words I could not utter with any accompanying emotion.

I immediately made an appointment with a trauma specialist. Damn! Had I known, I would have went to one right away instead of a generalist.

We did tests and talked over six sessions and she told me that what happened didn’t kill me, and may or may not ever happen again.

Although I am still on meds for possible bipolar disorder, my theory’s conclusions are:

I thought I was a bad boy and was going to hell. And I had proof because of my actions and the messages I was getting from everyone. I truly believed I was bad.

So I think I unconsciously repressed my anger and rage and then I repressed my love of everything. I refused to love my mom, my dad, anything called Jesus or God and myself included, which led to more self-hatred and fear. And the continuing abuse simply reinforced all that and got piled on top.

Hence, the Butterfly Effect.

Today, I couldn’t be happier.

In retrospect, I used to be very angry that my whole life was affected by the abuse and by mental illness, but now I have come to recognize that "it is my life". And so I try to help and share where I can, and try to use comedy to bring some much needed laughter to people. And I try to make a difference where I can to those on a similar journey as I am.

Thank you to all who took the time to read this. I hope it helps and gives you hope that it’s not impossible to get better.

Dont' you know that I'm still standing better than I ever did...
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
And I'm still standing after all ths time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.

Elton
Love and hugs to all you survivors, carers and those maintaining this website.

Sincerely
JohnnyM53
 
Hi Johnny,

You are an inspiration to others J....really :)

I can't read all right now since I am at work but I can imagine what a long and hard journey this has been for you !

Continue doing what you are doing ! The strength, courage and attitude you now have will certainly give you the tools to continue on the road of healing :)


:Hug_emoticon:Be safe, be happy.....Frankie
 
Hello Johnny, Just wanted to quickly thank you here for Everything you've written and shared here today. Need to go pick up my children from school now, so I'm in a rush, but I have a question for you. Have you seen or spoken to Walter lately?

“Oh Walter…Walter…I was so scared. I was so scared. I was scared. That’s all came out for nearly 20 minutes. My friend had given me the greatest gift ever. To bear witness to words I could not utter with any accompanying emotion.


When you do, give that guy a big hug from me, because I too know how much of a magnificient gift this type of thing is to permit and give someone.

And, .......also it can very much have a lovely Butterfly effect.

Sorry, I can't say more here, but I better post and run out the door.

(((Hugs)))
 
Hi Going

Thanks for you very nice post

Oh a hug wouldn't have been enough. I gave him a personalized gift with a typed note in thanking him and saying he was a friend for life. And he and I talk or meet regularly.

Johnny
 
Hey, Johnnie,

We have talked so much about philosophy and what it means to you and your own life experience.

This has been an incredible journey for you. You have overcome so many obstacles and so much pain because of your innate intelligence and wisdom.

You have helped me understand so many things about my own life and I will always be grateful to you.

I know a lot of other people on this site would say the same.

An inspirational story from an inspirational man
 
That was very informative and hit home! I, too, believe I have had supressed memories! When I was a child, I forced myself to remember the feeling of being pulled to the ceiling when I was being molested! I only remember dissociating one time but there was multiple rapes, strangling and beating with belts!

My biological mother had schizophrenia and would allow me to be left alone with men who loved children! It was a hard time but I stayed tough for my baby brother! We were both taken away when I was 4.5 and brought to foster care! I can relate so much with you! There's so much I want to remember as well! But I'm having physical sensations of being choked! Is this possible? I have gone to the ER and they say I look fine physically but it only just started the last few months and has been scaring me and woke me up from sleep one night! It gets hard to breathe and talk and I don't know what's happening. I really don't want to get put back on psychiatric medication because they knock me out too strongly!!

Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for being brave enough to help in the long road of abuse we all have struggled to survive! It shows true heroism!!
 
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Thank you so much for sharing this. It helps others (including myself) to find a way to heal from trauma. I can't imagine what it must have been like to go through all of this but I admire how you've turned it into a way of inspiring others :)
Really glad I stumbled upon this today!
 
Hi so pleased you have had the courage to write, having been on a similar journey I find beneath anger lies fear the fear of the true feelings which as a child/baby where not possible to process, only when we are mentally stronger as an adult can we truly take time to process these feeling.

As so off tern happen when we are stressed these feeling come to the surface just out of the blue and may not be appropriate for the present event , yet are important to the self if we are to grown and become free of our child/baby feelings, we should love our-self nurture our inner child, we do have to feel these confusing feelings which is difficult.
keep on keeping on
 
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