Healing is Possible: How gaining self-compassion from trauma therapy helped me heal from past wounds
[Please note that the following post includes discussion of the topics of abuse and self-harm, so please proceed with caution if these are sensitive areas for yourself. – Editor]
When I was a little girl, I never dreamed that I would grow up to chronically hate myself by the time I was fourteen. My childhood was definitely not perfect, but overall I thought of myself as a fairly happy child, with a healthy degree of self-love. However, when my family started to rupture and my dad turned into an abusive, critical tornado of a man, all that started to change. It did not happen overnight. I did not wake up one day and hate myself when the day before I had been alright; it was much more subtle and gradual than that. Like poison slowly dripping into my heart, I began to believe the terrible things that were said about me and to me. I began to believe that the way I was treated meant that I was trash, dirty, unlovable, a burden, a mistake. And years later, I had gotten so deep in self condemnation and shame that I had no idea how to get out.
It was not only my dad who made the scars on my heart; many other family members had their share in abusing me. Nearly all of my family took my dad's side when the divorce became public and I was blamed, told it was my fault, told that my dad left because I was too much of a burden to live with, told that I needed to put on my “big girl pants” and fix the mess of a family which, according to them, I had created. At the same time as my family started to implode, I had just started high school and became the victim of my whole neighborhood of teens. They told me I did not count, that I was not wanted, that I was weird and not worth it. And I believed them, and because I did not think I deserved any better, I got trapped in an abusive romantic relationship for many years, which finally ended with me being totally rejected and violated, furthering my view of myself as not worthy of love.
On my twenty-third birthday, five months after my dad left, I found out something about him that proved that though I had not seen it, he had been an abusive man long before I was born. I also found out that although my mom had very much wanted another baby, I had not been wanted by my dad. My heart broke in a million pieces, like shattered glass that I thought could never be put back together. After that horrible birthday, I fell into self-harm. I never meant to do it; it just happened. It started out with thoughts, just thoughts, but they scared me and made me feel even more shame and I did not tell anyone. I started picturing red marks on my skin, started fearing anything sharp and never wanting to be left alone. Finally, the thoughts started to become actions, after another loss in my life that broke my heart even further, and slowly I started to crave the pain, started to feel a sick and depressing satisfaction in punishing myself in this hidden way. But the shame I felt for what I knew was so wrong only furthered my self-hate.
I finally told my mom, sister, and a few of my closest friends about what was going on. The initial telling was very hard. They were shocked and scared, and their reaction only made me feel more alone. But to anyone out there who is suffering from self-hate and self-harm, I can say that looking back, telling people who loved me was the first important step that I had to take to begin to heal. It will be hard, it will be scary, but you need to find someone safe who can help you carry this burden and to find hope.
Sometimes I hated it that people knew. They started to hold me accountable, and if I seemed to be more withdrawn, or more depressed than usual, or if they noticed nail marks in my hands and arms, or sores on my face, they would ask me straight out if I was hurting myself again. It was hard to say yes, but knowing that people cared and were looking out for me made me think twice before giving into the temptation. But still, the self-hate often overwhelmed me and I would fight against my addiction for a few weeks, or a month, only to relapse again and feel like a failure.
It went on like that for a few years. Then, just when I was at one of my lowest points, I went to intensive trauma therapy in Ohio. I slowly noticed my feelings start to change. The therapist I went to for a week of intensive care was Margaret Vasquez, who ran Culture of Connection (now called Sacred Heart Healing Ministries). She used an incredible combination of art therapy, the Catholic faith, and an understanding of mental health and trauma to help me work through what I had experienced from my dad's abuse, my family breaking apart, and various other traumas that I was still re-living in my mind every day. She led me through a healing experience that was life-changing. She showed me, in a very convincing and lasting way, the truths about who I really was, that I was not the horrible person I had come to believe I was, but that I had a good heart and was worthy of love. Many people had told me these things, and I tried to believe them but failed to do so, which made me feel even worse. Margaret, however, did not tell me that I “should” believe good things about myself; she just took me through the past traumas in a new light that made me see the lies I had been believing about myself and what the truth really was. I learned to connect with myself in a compassionate way and to change my self-hating internal talk to one of empathy and compassion.
After therapy, I had a break-through and began to reconcile with myself for the emotional and physical harm I had put on myself in the wake of the abuse. I realized that I had to work to repair the rupture I had in my relationship with myself, just as I would with a loved one who had been hurt by me. One day recently, I realized that I been clean of self-harm for almost three months - not because I had held back and fought against the temptation like I had in the past, but because the temptation itself had been healed. My life is still hard. I still have many aches and wounds and a lot more healing and growth left ahead, but I no longer feel at war with myself. I no longer think and say horrible things to myself, I no longer feel the need to harm myself, but instead I am able to see my struggles, mistakes, and weak moments with compassion, empathy, and truth.
So to all those who are feeling trapped in the battle of self-hate or self-harm, especially those whose struggles come in large part from family wounds, let me tell you, I am so sorry for your pain but I believe in you. You CAN heal. You CAN find hope again. Healing IS possible, if you just keep moving forward one step at a time.
Intercessory Prayer
Saint Germaine of Pibrac, patron of abused children, pray for us.
About the author:
Angela Winkeler is an adult child of divorce; her parents divorced when she was twenty-three. She loves animals and babies, and has been a nanny for many years. She also has a horse and two lively little parakeets. She is studying to be a counselor in the hopes of being a guiding, caring mentor to others who are hurting.
Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals
Did you ever feel not wanted by one or both of your parents? If so, what was that experience like? How did it affect your self-image and sense of worth?
Are you “able to see [your] struggles, mistakes, and weak moments with compassion, empathy, and truth?”
If your child came to you expressing a similar hurt, how would you help them?