Boy, we worked our butts off in therapy yesterday. We rescued the child stuck in a post physically violent situation that was emotionally violent in so many ways. And the child was SO glad to be rescued. She held onto me and ... kind of *melted* into me. At night while I lay in bed, I could still feel her tiny arms tightly around my neck. Yes, it was an almost physical sensation, even though it all happened inside my head.
But connected to that situation and this child we rescued, was another child. She was sitting up in the highest room of my grandmother's house, all alone. We found her a while ago. For decades I could always feel and see myself walking up the stairs covered in red carpet that led to the attic. And we eventually just continued walking up those steps in therapy and found her. It's another "aftermath" memory. She was sitting there in total isolation after a violent event, hiding and hugging her knees. Alone. Utterly and totally alone. The loneliness inside of her was absolute. But the house was in the quiet morning hours, the first light already streaming in from the slanted windows - and in that house slept several people: My grandparents, my great-grandmother, one or two uncles. But none of these people were helpful. None of these people would EVER come to her rescue. She was alone, thrown back on herself completely.
She is me. I was completely alone. No one helped me, no one protected me. I was only told "one does not talk about these things" while all the evidence was erased and a hush went over the house where so much violence happened on a daily basis.
But this child is not me at the same time. She is separate and has no intention of trusting me right now. While the other child melted into me, this one stayed distrustful.
We had to figure something out first. Her loneliness was filling every fiber of her being. And yet she was still loyal to the great-grandmother. So we talked to her, my therapist and I. We told her the great-grandmother was not well, in fact, she was severely ill. Inside of my Omi - my great-grandmother - things were split apart and separated but while our psyche was also split and separated hers was filled with a foreign, alien energy that made her dangerous. So while Omi could be loving and kind and sweet, she was also severely broken and not to be trusted.
This child looked at me with her distrustful eyes and didn't quite know what to make of me. In the end I simply asked her if this place was where she wanted to stay, or whether she'd like to leave and her first question was, "But where would I go?"
We gave her a room in our inner house with a window showing the inner goings-on of our system. She sits there, on a bed, with one of those lamps that reflect the light like a sea of stars on the ceiling, gently turning in a circle. And there she is, and I talk to her now, asking her how she likes our present life, showing her the beauty in it, showing her the humor and the love and the freedom.
I will continue talking to her and I will continue gently confronting her with our current life and hoping she'll come around.
Let's be very clear here: this girl's experience of utter loneliness and her experience of not being protected is the reason why we can't let anyone really touch us, can't let anyone close. She was so profoundly disappointed by people who should have cared for her, loved her and cherished her, by people who should have protected her, that she doesn't trust anyone anymore. Not even us.
So I do not only show her our outer life, I also show her our inside life and how we are all working together to build a more beautiful and stable life for ourselves, together, as a family should.
In time, I hope, she will come to trust us.
And then who knows where we can go?!
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