Day 40 It's not the outcome that matters; it's the journey

I'm nearing the end of this program. I'd like to share my experience, even if no one responds, because I believe that "sharing of my true self" is key to my recovery.

First, let's start with the bad news:
Overall, my symptoms have not improved. I am able to reduce them when I do my daily affirmations, but they always come back. I must admit I have some disappointment about this. In a way, it feels like every other treatment I've tried—where hope eventually fades and leaves me feeling empty.

I am also looking forward to the program ending. After my initial increases in pain and the discovery of difficult emotions, the program became a bit of a burden. So I started putting increasing pressure on myself to finish. I wrote less and less each day—in part because I sensed that this internal pressure was problematic, and in part because I just had less to explore, so maybe that's okay. Either way, I think the reduced pressure of ending the program will be good for me.

Now, the good news:
This journey may has provided me greater increases in self-awareness than anything I've ever done. When I started my TMS journey, I was in serious denial—of my past, my present, and my future.

My past:
Throughout this journey, I learned to label what happened to me in words that are true to me. Even if my parents use different words, it's not up to them to decide how I feel. I am now able to say that I was abused and neglected and that, no, it's not okay and I'm not okay. Just because I am successful in life does not mean that I am okay. I am deeply wounded—so wounded in fact that I've made myself "sick". Before this program, I was in complete denial about this. Through this program, I realized that my past abuse still affects every sliver of my life.

This abuse has caused my "illness" both directly and indirectly. Yes, I do have a volcano of repressed emotions, but it's so much more than that. I have repressed everything. I repress (or suppress) my thoughts, emotions, beliefs, values, needs, and even my personality. I have no idea who I really am because the whole of my self-expression was designed to cope with the abuse.

I was taught that my needs don't matter so I have spent my entire life people pleasing and striving to meet the needs of others, completely unaware of what my needs are. I felt responsible for everyone because that was the role I was placed in as a child. I worked so ridiculously hard to achieve to make someone proud of me. But none of this is the true me, it's just the behavior that I was taught to engage in. The true me is repressed down there somewhere.

My present:
Journaling has brought my truth closer to the surface. A little bit at a time, I am beginning to learn and express who I really am. That person is still deeply wounded. I often feel like I don't matter or am invisible. I am terrified of what other people think about me (because I fear that people not liking me will lead them to mistreat me). So I neglect myself and exist in a state of constant fear of others.

Because these compulsions are so deeply rooted, awareness of these issues has not been enough to resolve my symptoms. I am working on accepting that and continuing to move forward.

I'm working on trying to "live" in spite of my illness. I have successfully eaten foods that I was afraid to eat, engaged in exercises that I was afraid to do, and spoke up about my values in ways that I never would have previously done. Now, note that these actions rarely result in an improvement in symptoms—they often worsen them, especially when people react badly to my truth and my anxiety goes through the roof. But I am starting to take my life back and I will continue to.

My future:
It's no wonder that my pain remains. So much of my truth is still repressed. I know I still have more work to do. So far, because of the specific nature of my emotional problems, seeking help has been hard. I've reached out to several therapists, but each time I do I experience massive anxiety and haven't yet had a single session—people just scare the hell out of me.

I have, however, joined a support group and am finding much comfort in knowing that there are other people who are like me and see me (I don't feel invisible with them). Each week, I share a little bit more of my truth. I believe sharing who I really am, instead of a façade, is what will help me clear out my unconscious and heal. And that's what I've aimed to do in this post.

So thank you for listening. Thank you for seeing me.

 

It sounds like you're on the right path now. While the program didn't cure all of your symptoms, it sounds like you have learned a lot about yourself and are continuing to do the work. So keep up the good work and I wish you all the best in your recovery!