It is Tuesday morning and I am feeling good. Just read someone on this site her poems. Love to read poems from other people. It truly, as I see it becomes the voice of the child, the outrage of the child, the anger of the child, the sadness of the child. As long as I hold in what the voice of my inner child needs to express I feel I will not heal. Whatever way I can express the pain I will do it. The emptying of my soul has been very cathartic. Who would have known I had all that despair inside of me. Well, I chose not to hold it inside any longer. I see that some people here on DS are just starting their journey. I know I am at a different place in my journey, so I need to be a lot more understanding of those just starting this journey. I remember when I tried to be a counselor at the Rape Crisis center. Went thru the training in 1988, a year after I started therapy. I was in the militant, angry stage of my recovery. I could not understand that the survivors I talked to were not angry over what happened to them. Now I understand, it is a process. Everyone is at a different place in the process, and that process need not be pushed because I want to see them in a different place. So I respect wherever someone is in their journey. I eventually had to quit being a volunteer counselor, because I saw I was raw with feelings and was not ready to counsel anyone, but instead had to do my healing. I tried a few after to go thru the training and again found I was not ready to help anyone but myself. Even a 2 years ago I wanted to help in the Domestic Abuse shelter and after the second training and crying over a video I saw, knew once again I was not strong enough to help others. So I respect that about me. I can only be effective in my own life first before I even thing about helping someone else. All I can do here is tell of my story, my process and express the hope I now have that healing is possible. I see it in my life. I am assertive, and sense a balance in my life that I never thought possible. But to get here was very very hard. There are still memories that I do not remember, fragments of my childhood and not a very clear picture of those years and what really happened. I have one more week of my job and off on another adventure working in the clubhouse with mental health members. My hope is that I do a good job. I think I have the usual doubts when starting a new job. But I will go there believing I can do a good job.
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