If I’m being honest, I hate the new therapy course that I’m taking. Emotional rescilliance: delving into complex childhood trauma.
I know that it is a necessary evil – I get it. But it’s been messing with my head and I’ve been trying so very hard to keep a brave face. Other things in my life are going really well – I hit my target goal for yoga training and am headed to Kelowna just next week, I’m overwhelmed by family and community support, I’ve been reconnecting with friends and loved ones – things are looking up.
So tonight as I was thinking about what to blog about, and what positive spin I could weave into my post, I remembered that I’m blogging to be honest. To show the transparency of mental health, and what it is I truly feel in my heart.
So here it is : since I began the new therapy course, I have been having flashbacks. Memories of my childhood flood into my brain and drown my eyes – things that I had buried so deep down that I actually forgot they happened. Mostly about my mom and the way she treated me.
And it’s scary.
And it’s sad.
And it breaks my heart.