Let me start by saying that I’ve been quiet because I have had an eye detachment. After a work day, all I want to do is drive home and close my eyes.
Anyway, last week I was in a session with Mrs. A and discussing one of my abusers. She was telling me that she would like me to leave my adult intellectual self out in the waiting room because my brain complicates my healing. My adult self is constantly telling me not to cry or feel. And inside I’m dying to scream or yell or cry.
As we are discussing, she asks me what my nickname was growing up. Immediately I began to cry. The name really triggered some awful memories and I just couldn’t say it outloud.
There are a few lifetime friends that still call me by that name and I have never told them how much it bothers me. I would never want them to feel bad for saying it.
I never put all this together until now. My little girl was broken down to my name.
I always thought about changing my name completely so that I could totally separate myself from my previous life.
And therein lies the problem. It’s not a separate life. It’s my life. My story. But I spend a lot of time in denial.
I’m suppossed to create a new nickname for my younger self so that I can start being kind to her. But the truth is that no name change can get rid of the flashbacks and nightmares.
I laid awake all night last night because I hate sleeping. I try to avoid the nightmares at all costs. That little girl can’t figure out why she was selected to be the child that doesn’t get protect. How did the abusers know that I was a safe target?
If I change her name will it change those awful feelings? I don’t know. You tell me?
I hate feeling so ambivolent about these ideas for healing.
What’s in a name anyway?
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.