Navigating Emotional Clutter: A Journey of Healing
Hey friend,
Do you remember Lamb Chop’s Play-Along? Lately, my days are like one of their most annoying songs. “This is the song that doesn’t end, yes it goes on and on my friends, some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they’ll continue singing it forever just because, this is the song that doesn’t end, yes it goes on and on my friends.”
Anyhow, that’s how I currently feel about therapy. There are too many painful memories, and it just feels like I started it not knowing what it was. I’m trying to press Command+Z to undo it, but it’s not working. I’m kidding. I know that it’s only for a season, but at this moment, I highly doubt it’ll be a favorite. And if I could, just like Adam Sandler in the movie “Click,” I would fast-forward right through it, and I’d skip right into the next.Â
Seeing an EMDR doctor is bittersweet. I keep reminding myself, just as Dr. M did, that sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. Yesterday, she acknowledged that with the free association approach, it’s as though all of the files were opened all at once. And I felt that. It reminds me of the cardboard accordion file I used to have, with its tattered edges and faded color. Dr. M has helped me undo that elastic band that was stretched so thin that it was barely holding on, and now it’s as though its contents are hanging out, on display for everyone to see. And that, my friend, feels more vulnerable than I would care to admit.Â
“It’s just like decluttering I remind myself; it gets messier before it gets better.” The work that I am doing in EMDR is essentially doing the same. With Dr. M’s help, we are sorting through each “file,” and as we sort through them, my brain is processing, reprocessing, digesting, discarding, etc. And little by little, my body is slowly unwinding. This week was especially rough. I stopped our session twice. We both knew I was stalling. “I forget to breathe,” I said as I looked at Dr. M; her “I know” was comforting. But not just because she’s intellectually aware of what’s happening to me but also because I think she’s been through it as well.
For the last two days, the word “deplorable” has been swirling around in my head. That’s a big word to digest, but it’s the word she chose to use. “Your childhood was deplorable.” I locked eyes with her for a second, allowing her eyes to search mine before I looked away as I tried to process what she was saying. “So that’s not normal,” I mumbled, immediately regretting my question because, intellectually, I know that it isn’t. I’m doing it again I thought; I’m looking for something, for anything, to be able to hang onto my mom.
“I keep looking for something to justify holding onto my mom,” I admitted.
“That is not your responsibility,” she said.Â
“The hardest part is facing that you would be motherless,” she acknowledged.
Instinctively, the words fell out of my mouth, “I’ve kinda already been.”Â
I find comfort in the book of Romans when it says, “Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered” (Romans 8:26, NKJV).
He is praying for me. I’m not alone in this and that’s reassuring.Â
But, the very next verse? Let’s say this one is a love/ hate relationship. “Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God” (Romans 8:27, NKJV).Â
“The will of God.”Â
Today, I am mumbling, yeah, the painful will of God. And rightfully so, because he made no mention of praying, interceding, and groaning for the sake of my comfort.Â
Hillary Scott’s “Thy Will” has never been more relatable.
“I may never understand
That my broken heart is a part of Your plan
When I try to pray
All I’ve got is hurt, and these four words
Thy will be done
Thy will be done
Thy will be done”
Is it painful at times for you too?
If so, you’re not alone.
Painfully yours,
(Pun intended)
iK