It's funny how we carry trauma in our bodies. You might think you've worked through something, but damned if some body-centered trigger won't take me right back to the original apex experience. A couple days ago I received a massage and I had the therapist work a problematic muscle in my abdomen. Normally I don't let anyone touch my abdomen as I loath being touched in that area, but it was necessary that day. As expected it was an exercise in tolerating repulsion, and not losing my shit.
Whenever anyone touches my flank I always think, "I know why horses lose their shit when the have a bucking strap in their flank. But then having deep sustained pressure in my abdomen...fuck.
So many layers of ick in there. Ancient ick, slightly less ancient ick, moderately ancient ick. Awakening trauma ick during this particular massage because I'd never had such deep intense, pressure in my guts; pressure so strong that at times I couldn't draw breath...and I was taken back to a time of being crushed and trapped...unable to breath. Knowing I was fucked. Wondering how did I get here, how do I get out of this, how do I survive this?
Obviously I survived, but there is still a fractured bit of me, hiding in the depths, unaware that we did indeed survive. So then, how to bring all of those pieces together? How to create a place that is safe for all of the splinters to come together to talk, and support one another? I don't know that I'll find that place until I can let go of the need to judge myself, and the parts who experienced and endured.
